Release date: November 24, 2014
As the new head of public relations for the Las Vegas Sinners hockey team, Saralynn Reese wants to leave behind the frivolity of her popular girl image. Unfortunately, her first big assignment is to clean up the media messes of the team’s assistant general manager, Madden Vaughn. He’s flirty, impulsive, and self-centered; he also happens to be drop-dead gorgeous. Could there be more to Madden under the Ralph Lauren surface?
Having struggled with a gambling addiction since his early twenties, Madden’s finally moved past it and into a secure, corporate job working for his sister, the one person who means the world to him. When rumors fly and the team and his family both doubt his word, an unlikely ally pulls him out of his funk with a manicured hand: Saralynn.
He’s tired of chasing the same type of unattainable girl, and this up-and-coming publicity dynamo fits that mold perfectly. But she also challenges him and believes in him like no one else. Can they help each other keep their feet on solid ground…or will these twin hearts find themselves skating on thin ice?
by Katie Kenyhercz
Sensuality Level: Sensual
Katie married the military man of her dreams, so home is wherever the Air Force sends them. She likes capable heroines who bring out the vulnerability in their tough guys.
An excerpt from Winning Streak:
Wednesday, February 19th
Few things were manlier than eating with your hands and watching guys fight gladiator-style in suits of armor. It was the perfect way to kick off a friend’s bachelor party and almost good enough to distract Madden Vaughn from the fact that his ex was getting married shortly in Excalibur’s chapel. Yep, his brother-in-law, Carter, decided Shane Reese’s bachelor party should have a medieval theme. On the same day as Linden’s wedding. As a part of the Las Vegas Sinners brotherhood—albeit in management and not on the team—not to mention a groomsman, Madden couldn’t exactly beg off.
Was there something in the air? Everyone he knew was settling down, but the thought made his skin itch. Thanks to Linden’s particular brand of manipulation, the single life suited him just fine. Okay, not every woman would use him as a pawn to get at his sister because she owned the Sinners hockey team, but in this case it was once burned, ten times shy. So why did he even care if the evil reporter was getting married?
People around him cheered as the good knights defeated Mordred, the fire wizard, and Madden licked the gravy off his fingers before clapping along. The arena lights came up as the smoke cleared, and the crowd started filing out.
“All right, boys. Let’s go to Octane and really get this party started.” Carter slapped Reese, the groom-to-be, on the back and led their group out of the arena. Madden brought up the rear alongside his best friend and roommate, Sinners captain Dylan Cole.
Newly twenty-two, the kid was hardly typical for his age. While his teammates were loud and rowdy, Cole was quiet and a little shy, which made him a great secret-keeper. He lowered his voice as the others walked ahead. “So, how you hangin’ in?”
Madden shrugged. “I’m trying to focus on the positives. We just ate Cornish hens with our hands, are about to indulge in some top-shelf alcohol at a motorcycle-themed bar, and we’re celebrating our friend.”
“You held up pretty well in the casino. Proud of ya.”
That part hadn’t been easy. The others wanted to take in some craps games before the tournament, which was fine for them. They weren’t recovering gambling addicts. Had his brother-in-law gotten there earlier, he might have tried to talk them out of it, being the only one who understood how deep Madden had gotten into that world, but Carter got stuck in traffic and Madden didn’t want to hold the group back.
He’d white-knuckled it as casually as he could for a half hour and walked out of the room of flashing lights and rolling dice unscathed. Kevin Scott won big and divvied up his chips with everyone. Accepting a few might not have been the best idea. They’d burned a hole in Madden’s jacket pocket through the entire medieval experience. But he didn’t have to go back to that casino, and he wouldn’t. No way was he tossing aside the last two years of not placing a single bet.
On the way into the bar, a few guys huddled around a pristine motorcycle in a glass case under the glowing Octane sign. Madden went straight to the counter and winked at the sexy bartender in a leather bustier. “Hey, beautiful. How about a Corona?”
Cole stepped up beside him. “Make it two.”
The woman smiled at Madden, then gave Cole a once-over. “Can I see your ID, sweetie?”
Poor kid. He’d get carded into his forties. Women might enjoy that, but for a man, it was embarrassing. It didn’t seem to faze Cole though. They took their beers, and Madden tipped the tender a twenty.
“Hold on there, stud.” She wrote her number on a napkin and tucked it in his hand. “Call me sometime.”