It’s a jock blog hop! With prizes!

It’s my pleasure to participate in this blog hop with not one but two of my books. I do love jocks and have been labeled one myself. That must have been because I earned a 2d degree black belt and used to play ice hockey. These days, being older and smarter, I do yoga. But when I played hockey, I wrote a murder mystery with hot pro hockey players, Puckheads. I’ll give a digital copy away to a lucky commenter.

Here’s what it’s about:

How far would you go to win your lifelong dream?

When Zoë Whipple agrees to make a documentary about a hockey team’s season, she doesn’t sign on for scandal, crime and murder. But she discovers that players, rabid to win the championship, don’t let

Jocks in July

morality or the law stand in the way of their ambitions.

When a rookie dies from cardiac arrest, Zoë is saddened but not suspicious until another player, in the grip of ’roid rage, goes berserk on the ice and ends up in the hospital. Digging into the mess reveals illegal painkillers and steroid abuse among most of the team. Zoë, whose reputation for honest filmmaking is at stake, threatens to expose the scandals.

Is her new lover, team captain “Crash” Crasseau, responsible for the harassment and vandalism meant to scare her into silence? When Crasseau’s ex-wife is murdered and Zoë’s daughter is threatened, Zoë must choose between her career ambitions and her child’s safety.

Here’s an excerpt:

Puckheads

Excerpt from Chapter Ten

Fingers entwined, they walked back to the hotel together in the chilly November night. Daniel stopped at her door and held out his hand for the key. Zoë handed it to him.

He asked, “Do you want me tonight?”

She looked at his craggy, unpretty face, and said, “Yes, I do.”

He nodded and opened the door.

Her room was dark and cold with the close, dank scent of hotel rooms everywhere. Crasseau lit the bedside lamp. Without a word, he turned to her, opening his arms. In two quick strides, she went into his embrace, snuggling, allowing the warmth to turn to heat and passion.

He slid big hands into her hair and tilted her head so he could kiss her mouth with a patient thoroughness that left her breathless and hungry for him.

Denying her want had been a lie. Worse, it had been a waste of time. In the foolish belief that they’d have forever, she’d thrown away so much time that she could have spent with Paul. Now she swore to herself she’d never again make the same mistake.

She began to tug at Crash’s clothes and he at hers, leaving coats, scarves, hats in a pile on the floor.

Easing her onto the bed, Daniel knelt to take off her boots. “Are you sure about this, Zoë?” He didn’t know why he’d asked because he’d jump out the window if she said no, she wasn’t sure, and could he please leave while she decided?

A moment passed during which he died twenty deaths before she said, “Yes, I’m sure. If only to get you out of my system.” She gave him the kind of apologetic smile that girls give when they really aren’t sure.

He shoved aside his insecurity and laughed softly. “I’ll take you any way I can, but this is somewhat more than putting Part A into Slot B, eh?”

She went pink. Or was that from the chill? Then she whispered, “Yes, it is.”

Her boots off, he removed her socks and began to rub her cold, narrow feet.

Zoë gazed at Crasseau’s dark blond hair. The entire event had taken on an atmosphere of unreality. From the moment he’d whirled her out of her hotel room to experience Montreal on a November night, she’d been separated from her ordinary life.

The commitment she’d made crashed down on her. She was going to have sex with this man. She was going to let him strip her naked, take away her defenses, and then put a part of himself inside her.

Puckheads, romantic suspense from Ellora’s Cave

She began to shake, and he rose to embrace her trembling body. He kissed her, using lips and tongue and teeth until she shook not from fear but from pleasure.

“Take my clothes off, please, Zoë.”

That he’d said please meant everything. She tugged at his sweater, unbuttoned his shirt, unbuckled the odd belt he liked to wear. She ran the strip of badly tooled leather through her fingers and wanted to ask him about it, but decided to leave the question for a better time.

The zipper of his trousers rasped loudly in the room, quiet except for their harsh exhalations. Naked, he reached for her, holding her close again, kissing her mouth as though he never wished to stop. But she was ready to move on. She pulled away, and at the sudden hurt on his face, said, “Too hot,” and yanked her sweater over her head. She’d skipped a bra, and her breasts, now free, bobbed and swayed, crinkling at the tips in the cool air of the hotel room.

He tumbled her onto the bed and hauled at her jeans, getting them down to her knees before he buried his face in her muff. “Ahhh.” His sigh was that of a happy man.

“Do you like…”

He raised his head, eyes gleaming in the soft bedside light. “Oh yeah. I like. I like a lot.”

She laughed with relief, knowing that it would be all right, probably much better than all right. He tugged at the hems of each pant leg, taking off the jeans.

Her skin prickled. She flung the spread down to the foot of the bed and hauled at the sheets and blankets. Burrowing under the bedclothes, she reached for him.

They cuddled together in bed, letting body warmth fill the space before they began to make love.

She touched and explored and kissed. Crash’s body was a wonder. She couldn’t evade comparisons with Paul, lean and tanned, who’d been a Southern California beach boy before he’d attended med school. Crasseau was the opposite, pale and bulky, but shapely in an aggressive, male way. Learning his body would take more than one short night.

At the thought, she tensed. She hadn’t considered a continuing relationship with Daniel Crasseau. Did she want that?

He stroked her breasts, and asked, “What?”

“There is so…much of you.”

He laughed. “And so little of you, ma petite Zoë. I could eat you up.”

“Who’s stopping you?”

So he did, and when she was wet and quivering and satisfied, he pushed into her. She was deliciously tight, almost too snug, and he guessed that he was her first since her husband had died. He wanted her all the more but managed to control his savage urge to take her hard and long. He wouldn’t pound on this delicate creature. She’d honored him with her trust, and betrayal was unthinkable.

He held back, moving slowly inside her until she cried out again, clutching his shoulders with a pure, feminine greed.

Author Sue Swift

Then he let go and fell into the bliss of Zoë’s love.

Like what you read?

You can buy it at Ellora’s Cave, and at a reduced price of 99 cents! 

Happy reading!

If you want to continue the blog hop, go here for a list.

 And here’s a little about me.

Best-selling, award-winning author Sue Swift, a.k.a Suz deMello, has written over fifteen novels, plus several short stories and non-fiction articles. She writes in numerous genres including romance, mystery, paranormal, historical, contemporary comedy and erotica. She’s a freelance editor who’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, Liquid Silver Books and Etopia Press. She also takes on private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in PW, Kirkus and Booklist, attained the finals of the RITA and reached the top ten on a bestseller list.
A former trial attorney, she resides in northern California. Her passion is world travel, and she’s left the US over a dozen times, including stints working overseas for many months. Right now, she’s working on her next manuscript and planning her next trip.
Her blog is at http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com. Find her reading picks @ReadThis4fun on Twitter, and befriend her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/SueSwift ). Her sites are at http://www.sue-swift.com and http://www.suzdemello.com.