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***A Standalone novel in The Pucked Series***

I’m NHL defenseman Lance Romero, AKA Lance “Romance."

I’m notorious for parties and excess. I have the most penalty minutes in the league. I get into the most fights. I take the most hits. I’m a player on and off the ice. I’m the one women with no inhibitions want.

Not because I like the notoriety, but because I don’t know how to be any other way.

I have secrets. Ones I shared with the wrong person, and she used them against me. Sometimes she still does. I should cut ties. But she makes it difficult, because she’s the kind of bad I deserve.

At least that’s what I believed until someone from my past gets caught up in my present. She’s all the good things in this world. She lights up my dark.

I shouldn’t want her.

But I do.

I should leave her alone.

But I won’t. 

Excerpt: 

Lance is sitting in the exact same place he was earlier today. He’s wearing a pair of jeans now instead of sweats, and a T-shirt with his team logo instead of a hoodie. His hair looks like his hand has been in it. He proves my theory correct when he looks up from his lap and runs his fingers through it again. No man should have the right to look this good, especially as beat up as he is. 

“Hi.” Wow, my brain is on point right now. 

“Hey.” His knee bobs a couple of times. 

“Holy Jesus,” says Debbie. She grabs my arm and does this swoony thing, falling into me for a second before she pushes away and flaps her hands in front of her face. “Oh my God! You’re Lance Romero! You play for Chicago!” 

I suddenly feel far less ridiculous about my reaction to this man.  

She takes three steps toward him and then two steps back. “I’m so sorry. I just—can I please have your autograph? I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t be this close to you and not ask.” The whole time she talks, her hands are flapping. She looks to me. “That’s Lance Romero. I’m in love with him.” I think she means to whisper the last part, but she doesn’t. 

The side of his mouth quirks up. “I’d be happy to sign anything ya want.” That hint of Scot drops. 

Once she’s done fawning over him, and talking to him about how much of a team player he is, and blah, blah, blah, she thanks him half a dozen more times for being so nice.  

As soon as she’s gone, Lance exhales a deep breath and taps on the counter. And I’m alone with him, again. For the second time today.   

“I’m so sorry, and thank you. You really didn’t need to do that, but I’m pretty sure you made her entire year.” 

“It’s cool. I’m used to it.” More desk tapping. 

I try not to fidget or touch too many of Bernadette’s things. “I’m sure you are.” 

“I didn’t mean for that to sound cocky.” 

“It doesn’t. I assume you’re here about your phone?” 

“Aye. The receptionist lady said you had it.” 

“Yes, I meant to leave it with her, but I forgot.” The lie feels thick on my tongue. Despite the awkwardness of this entire situation, I still wanted to be the one to give it back. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long.” 

“I would’ve waited to see you either way, so it doesn’t really matter.” The last part comes out heavily accented, sounding more like It does nae reee-lly mah-ter. 

“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say to that. I don’t understand why he’d wait to see me, unless he wanted to make sure I didn’t jailbreak his phone. 

He looks down and smoothes his hand across the counter. His knuckles look sore, and his nails are bitten to the quick, a bad habit I used to share, but have worked hard to curb. There’s nothing quite like wearing your worry on your hands for everyone to see. He makes a fist when he notices me looking and drops his hands to his sides. 

When he doesn’t say anything else, I shut down the computer and push up from the chair. “Well, I’ll just go get your phone for you.” 

I beeline for my massage room and try not to freak out on the way there. His phone sits where I left it: on top of my pile of towels, where I could see every message come in while I massaged my other clients.  

Lance is standing in the same place when I return with his phone. He has thirty-seven new messages, six missed calls, and two voicemails from DO NOT FUCKING REPLY. I only know because the tally appears every time the phone lights up again. 

I pass it over to him. “You missed a lot of calls.” 

At the quirk of his brow, I rush to explain. “I wasn’t snooping. It just went off a lot.” 

The phone buzzes again. His grin drops and his eyes go wide as he scans the screen and does some scrolling.  

“Fuckin’ell.” He jams the device in his pocket and shakes his head. “I, uh—thanks for holding on to my phone for me.” 

“Of course.” I’m anxious now. His proximity does things to me that I don’t know how to handle. And he’s staring. “Did you forget anything else?” 

“You.” 

I blink a couple of times, certain I’m misunderstanding. My heart does this stupid fluttery thing. “I’m sorry. Pardon?” 

Lance shakes his head. “My teammate Miller says I know you, but I don’t remember, and I should.” 

“I don’t—” 

“I should remember someone as beautiful as you.” It sounds very much like a line, but he taps the desk again. He’s agitated, his frustration obvious. “I want to remember you.” 

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About the Author:

NYT and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She's writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

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"I can't stop thinking about this book...One of my favorite reads this year. Maybe ever. Kennedy Ryan took some of the most complex issues of our time and made them poetic, insightful, and deliciously sexy...5 massive, gripping stars!" - USA TODAY Bestselling Author, Adriana Locke

Keep reading for an EXCERPT of Grip by Kennedy Ryan

FLOW releases on February 25 and will be totally FREE!

GRIP releases on March 2nd straight to #KindleUnlimited!

➡Add GRIP on GR: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31207572-grip

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➡Check out more information here: http://kennedyryanwrites.com/grip/

GRIP Synopsis:

Resisting an irresistible force wears you down and turns you out.

I know.

I’ve been doing it for years.

I may not have a musical gift of my own, but I’ve got a nose for talent and an eye for the extraordinary.

And Marlon James – Grip to his fans – is nothing short of extraordinary.

Years ago, we strung together a few magical nights, but I keep those memories in a locked drawer and I’ve thrown away the key.

All that’s left is friendship and work.

He’s on the verge of unimaginable fame, all his dreams poised to come true.

I manage his career, but I can’t seem to manage my heart.

It’s wild, reckless, disobedient.

And it remembers all the things I want to forget.

*********************************************************

FLOW  (The GRIP Prequel) – Releasing FREE a few days before GRIP!

In 8 years, Marlon James will be one of the brightest rising stars in the music industry.

Bristol Gray will be his tough, no-nonsense manager.

But when they first meet, she's a college student finding her way in the world,

and he's an artist determined to make his way in it.

From completely different worlds,

all the things that should separate them only draw them closer.

It's a beautiful beginning, but where will the story end?

FLOW is the prequel chronicling the week of magical days and nights that will haunt Grip & Bristol for years to come.

GRIP is the full-length conclusion of their story.

EXCERPT:

I wanted to keep this pain locked away, private. Until now. Until Grip. His eyes rest on my face. I feel his compassion, and it weighs so much I want out from under it. I turn my head to escape the honesty between us for a few seconds. Just for a reprieve. As soon as I look over the side, I realize my mistake.

“Oh, God. We’re so high.”

Breath charges up my throat, panic pushing out the last few minutes of peace. My heart jackhammers. Blood rushes to my head, and the world spins. I grip my head to make it stop.

“Hey, hey.” Grip scoots closer, eliminating the distance between us. “Put your head down as far as you can.”

The safety bar keeps me from putting my head between my knees, but I don’t think it would help anyway. Nothing helps. It’s irrational. I know I’m safe, but fear mocks me and makes me its bitch. I hate it, but I can’t stop it.

“My mom used to tell me to recite things,” Grip says from above me. “Like to distract myself when I was scared. To give me something else to focus on.”

It only makes me more anxious that I have nothing I can recite. Fear jumbles all my thoughts together, so discombobulated that I can’t even assemble the digits of my phone number.

“I can’t think of anything.”

“Okay. Hold up.” He rubs my back in soothing strokes that don’t soothe. “I’ll do it. Just listen to my voice. Focus on what I’m saying.”

I can’t focus. I can’t stop the encroaching darkness, blurring my edges and knotting my interior. It’s never been this bad, and it would happen right in front of Grip.

“I’ll recite “Poetry” by Pablo Neruda. My favorite actually.” Grip’s voice is warm but disembodied as I press my eyes closed. “It feels like he was writing my life story. Like he knew there would be this kid who needed something bigger than himself, and he wrote this to guide that kid to a different path. This has always felt like more than a poem. It’s personal. It feels like my prophecy.”

The emotion, the honesty in his voice compels me to hazard a glance at him. In the faint light of the moon and the bright lights of the carnival, I see his face. Beautiful and bronzed, a sculpture of bold bones and full lips. His eyes are intent, never looking away from mine as he begins.

   His deep voice caresses Neruda’s sentiments of how poetry called him from the street and away from violence. Of how writing saved him from a certain fate and opened up a world he’d never imagined. And Grip’s right. The poem could have been written for him . . . could have foretold the story of a boy called, not from the streets of a Chilean city, but from the streets of Compton.

   Passion weaves between his words and conviction laces every line. He means these words. He loves these words. Amazingly, as he’s reciting a poem I’ve never heard before, someone else’s words illuminate Grip to me. I see him clearly. A man deeply committed to his craft and who views his gift as a miracle of circumstance. As cocky as he is, I see him humbled by the means to escape a path so many others never leave. And if the poem tells his story, his eyes are a confession, never straying from mine, holding mine in the moonlight, his voice liquid poured over something sweet. As he approaches the end, my fears are forgotten, but I’m still stuck on a Ferris wheel under a darkened sky, and nothing has ever been more fitting than the final words, in which the poet says he wheeled with the stars and his heart broke loose on the wind.

There are too few perfect moments in this life. Far too few of us get them, but I am privileged to have this one with this man. When he empties his chest of his heart and empties his body of his soul for me under a starry sky on a Ferris wheel. And I know. In this moment, I know that I’m lost to him. It has been a matter of days. It has been a string of moments. It has not been long enough to tell him, but in my heart, I know I am lost.

“Did that help?” he asks.

He searches through the dim light for my fear or my panic, but they aren’t there anymore. He leans closer, so close his breath whispers over my face. I don’t know when he realizes that fear has gone and that something else has come, but I see the change in his eyes.

I think he might be lost in me, too.

The inches between our lips disappear. At the first brush of his mouth on mine, I know this kiss will never end. It will live on in my memory for the rest of my life. His lips beg entry, a tentative touch that blazes through my defenses and hastens the rhythm of my heart. I clutch his arm, skin and muscle, satin over steel. A thousand textures collide. The hot silk of his mouth. The sharp, straight edge of his teeth. The firm curve of his lips. The taste of him. God, the taste of him makes me moan. He cups my face, fingers spearing into my hair. I press so close the heat of his body burns through the thin fabric of our shirts.

“Bris.” He says it against my lips before trailing kisses down my chin. His mouth opens over my neck, hot and wet, and I arch into him, the pleasure like a train in my veins. Rushing. Vaulting. Exploding.

“Oh, God.” I’m a panting mess. My hands venture under his shirt, desperate, nails scraping at his back. “Keep kissing me.”

He’s back at my lips, devouring, our tongues dueling, dancing. This kiss has a cadence, his head moving to the left and then right, on beat, a syncopation, a simultaneity of lips and tongues. His mouth slants over mine, hot and zealous, and I link my fingers behind his head, clinging, afraid this will end. Afraid to lose the enormity of this moment. At the top of the world, so close we could almost touch the sky and with only the stars watching, I found out what a kiss should be.

About the Author:

Kennedy loves to write about herself in third person. She loves Diet Coke...though she's always trying to quit. She adores her husband...who she'll never quit. She loves her son, who is the most special boy on the planet. And she's devoted to supporting and serving families living with Autism.

And she writes love stories!

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GIVEAWAY - $25.00 AMAZON GIFT CARD & SIGNED PAPERBACK - Read an exclusive excerpt of Finding Mr. Wrong by A.M. Madden & Joanne Schwehm.  This book is seriously one of my top recommendations.  I don’t like this book; I LOVE IT. Giveaway details below.  Check out my spoiler-free review!!

BOOK INFO:

Title: Finding Mr. Wrong

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Authors: A. M. Madden & Joanne Schwehm

Release Date: February 20th

Cover Designer: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative Covers

Model: Kevin Luetolf

Photographer: Nadia Von Scotti

ADD TO GOODREADS:

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Finding Mr. Wrong

Copyright ©2016 A.M. Madden & Joanne Schwehm

All Rights Reserved

His eyes focused on my plate. “Don’t you eat meat? Please tell me you eat meat.”

“I try to eat healthy.”

He snatched a piece of bacon and his jaw worked in small, meticulous circles as he chewed. “Why? Your body is incredible.” The slow perusal over my breasts caused my heartbeat to quicken.

“Um . . . thank you, but it’s because I do that it is.” I pointed to his abs. “Don’t you work for those?”

“If I’m in the mood, I’ll run. Otherwise, I rely on my sex life for physical activity. Just thirty minutes of fucking burns almost one hundred and fifty calories. Did you know that?” On my eye roll, he nodded. “Truth. As long as you put in some effort, that is. In fact, with you on top, you could probably burn double that. Would you like to know how many calories you can burn giving a blow job?”

SYNOPSIS:

Here’s a tip: never trust a jackass in preppy clothing.

The phrase “trust me” should have been my first clue to hightail it out the door, but hindsight is always 20/20.

So there I was, on a stage with two other men, being asked ridiculous questions by a woman I couldn’t see, but whose voice made my pants tighten—and not around my ankles.

Before I knew what was happening, I'd signed up for six weeks in paradise, isolated on an island for forty-two days with a complete stranger. And when I finally laid eyes on the sexy brunette who belonged to that voice, a part of me thought this wouldn’t be so bad.

I’ve always been a levelheaded guy. I am a successful, smart, and shrewd business man. But that was when I was listening to the head above my shoulders. Once the blood traveled south, I always ran into trouble.

She called me Mr. Wrong, and that was fine with me.

Lesson learned: lust always trumps logic.

Review of Finding Mr. Wrong:

Finding Mr. Wrong by A.M. Madden

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Mr. Wrong is so RIGHT! I loved everything about this book. Get ready to meet your next book boyfriend. Full review closer to release ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Update:
There is nothing wrong about Finding Mr. Wrong by A.M Madden & Joanne Schwehm. Without a doubt, Finding Mr. Wrong will be one of my top recommendations of the year. This incredibility sexy, heartfelt and hilarious romantic comedy will melt your heart and steam up your e-reader screen. Finding Mr. Wrong is absolute perfection and must be your next one-click book purchase. You will thank me later :)

AUTHOR BIOS:

A. M. Madden:

A.M. Madden is a USA Today bestselling author, as well as 2016 eLit Gold Medalist for Best Romance Ebook, and 2016 Ippy Award Silver Medalist for Best Romance Ebook. 

A.M. is a wife, a mother, an avid reader of romance novels, and now an author. 

"It's all about the HEA."

A.M. Madden is the author of the popular Back-Up Series, as well as several other contemporary romances. She also writes the True Heroes Series for Random House. 

Her debut novel was Back-up, the first in The Back-Up Series. In Back-Up, A.M.'s main character Jack Lair caused readers to swoon. They call themselves #LairLovers, and have been faithful supporters to Jack, as well to the rest of his band, Devil's Lair. 

A.M. truly believes that true love knows no bounds. In her books, she aspires to create fun, sexy, realistic romances that will stay with you after the last page has been turned. She strives to create characters that the reader can relate to and feel as if they know personally. 

A self-proclaimed hopeless romantic, she loves getting lost in a good book. She also uses every free moment of her time writing, while spending quality time with her three handsome men. A.M. is a Gemini and an Italian Jersey girl, but despite her Zodiac sign, nationality, or home state, she is very easy going. 

She loves the beach, loves to laugh, and loves the idea of love.

Joanne Schwehm:

Joanne is a mother and wife and loves spending time with her family. She’s an avid sports watcher and enjoys the occasional round of golf.

Joanne loves to write and read romance. She believes everyone should have romance in their lives and hopes her books bring joy and happiness to readers who enjoy modern day fairy tales and breathless moments.

She is an independent romance author and has written several contemporary romance novels, including The Prescott Series, Ryker, A Heart’s Forgiveness, The Critic and The Chance series which she has recently sold the screenplay rights to and will be adapted into a movie which is currently titled, Accidental Hearts.

Joanne looks forward to sharing more love stories in her future novels.

***GIVEAWAY***

GIVEAWAY - $25.00 AMAZON GIFT CARD & SIGNED PAPERBACK - Read an exclusive excerpt of Finding Mr. Wrong by A.M. Madden & Joanne Schwehm.  This book is seriously one of my top recommendations.  I don’t like this book; I LOVE IT.

To enter for a chance to win:

➜LIKE this post; Kindle Crack Book Reviews.

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Check out my review and read an excerpt from Fake Fiancee.  I binge read this book! This football romance won my book super bowl.

Pretending never felt so good….

Fake Fiancée by Ilsa Madden-Mills is NOW LIVE! 

Free on Kindle Unlimited.

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2kCtxiw

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2lfrSjw

Amazon Paperback:  http://amzn.to/2kKIxNR

Blurb

A new standalone romance from Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author Ilsa Madden-Mills...

They say nothing compares to your first kiss,

But our first kiss was orchestrated for an audience.

Our second kiss…that one was REAL.

He cradled my face like he was terrified he’d f*ck it up.

He stared into my eyes until the air buzzed.

Soft and slow, full of sighs and little laughs,

He inhaled me like I was the finest Belgian chocolate,

And he'd never get another piece.

A nip of his teeth, his hand at my waist...

And I was lost.

I forgot he was paying me to be his fake fiancée.

I forgot we weren’t REAL.

Our kiss was pure magic, and before you laugh and say those kinds of kisses don’t exist…

Then you’ve never touched lips with Max Kent, the hottest quarterback in college history.

Get ready for breathtaking kisses and dreamy football players…

When I met Donovan Kincaid, I knew he was rich. I didn’t know he was filthy. Truth be told, I was only trying to get his best friend to notice me.

I knew poor scholarship girls like me didn't stand a chance against guys like Weston King and Donovan Kincaid, but I was in love with his world, their world, of parties and sex and power. I knew what I wanted—I knew who I wanted—until one night, their world tried to bite me back and Donovan saved me. He saved me, and then Weston finally noticed me, and I finally learned what it was to be in their world.

Because when dirty, filthy, rich boys play, they play for keeps.

Read Dirty Filthy Rich Boys FREE on February 27th. 

Pre-order Dirty Filthy Rich Men now: March 27th release!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2khKZgc

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Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/8srGAR

iBooks: https://goo.gl/t4gkrJ

Nook:https://goo.gl/eMVqP5

Kobo: https://goo.gl/fhALyt

About the Author:

USA Today and New York Times Bestselling Author Laurelin Paige is a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn’t seem to complain, however. When she isn’t reading or writing sexy stories, she’s probably singing, watching Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She's also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn't do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio. She is represented by Rebecca Friedman.

Connect with the Author: 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LaurelinPaige/

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I loved this book!  Check out my review below.
MACK DADDY

(A standalone)

Release date: 2/13/2017

A Contemporary Romance Novel

New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author Penelope Ward

Synopsis:

From New York Times bestselling author, Penelope Ward, comes a sexy, STANDALONE second-chance romance.

They called him Mack Daddy. No, seriously, his name was Mack. Short for Mackenzie. Thus, the nickname. Perfect, right? 

So was he: perfect. The perfect physical male specimen.

At the private school where I taught, Mack Morrison was the only man around in a sea of women.

Everyone wanted a piece of the hot single father of the sweet little boy. 

I was riddled with jealousy, because they didn’t know that—to me—he was much more. 

They didn’t know about our past. 

He’d chosen my school for his son on purpose, because Mack and I, we had unfinished business. 

As my friend Lorelai so eloquently put it: “Unfinished business between two people who are clearly attracted to each other is like an eternal case of blue balls.” And I was suffering in pain from my case.

I was still intensely attracted to Mack. I tried to resist him, immersing myself further into a relationship with another man just to protect my heart. 

Not to mention, getting involved with a parent was strictly against school rules. But seeing Mack day in and day out was breaking me down.

And soon I might be breaking all the rules.

Author's note – Told in alternating points of view, Mack Daddy is a full-length standalone novel. 

Buy Links:

iBooks: http://apple.co/2iNrIPj     

Nook: http://hyperurl.co/aiypfj  

Kobo: http://hyperurl.co/r3hv19 

Review of Mack Daddy
Mack Daddy by Penelope Ward
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Do you know that feeling when you get lost in a book and, look at the clock and it's 2:00am, and you thought you were only reading for 15 minutes? Mack Daddy is that book. Mack and Frankie's story is heartfelt, sweet, sexy and made me shed a tear or two. This second chance romance is everything I hoped it would be and more! Once you go Mack you'll never go back ;) I loved everything about this book. I binge read Mack Daddy and I'm sure you will too! Mack Daddy will earn a top spot on my best of 2017 list! Thank you for creating another book boyfriend Penelope! 

Pucked Off, an all-new STANDALONE from Helena Hunting is coming February 21st!

Pucked Off by Helena Hunting
Publication Date: February 21^st, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance

***A Standalone novel in The Pucked Series***

I’m NHL defenseman Lance Romero, AKA Lance “Romance."

I’m notorious for parties and excess. I have the most penalty minutes in the league. I get into the most fights. I take the most hits. I’m a player on and off the ice. I’m the one women with no inhibitions want.

Not because I like the notoriety, but because I don’t know how to be any other way.

I have secrets. Ones I shared with the wrong person, and she used them against me. Sometimes she still does. I should cut ties. But she makes it difficult, because she’s the kind of bad I deserve.

At least that’s what I believed until someone from my past gets caught up in my present. She’s all the good things in this world. She lights up my dark.

I shouldn’t want her.

But I do.

I should leave her alone.

But I won’t. 

Excerpt: 

I’ve agreed to go out with Lance. On a date. Two actually. I don’t even know what to think. I grab my purse and slip into my jacket. As fall settles in and the temperature drops, layers are becoming necessary.

When I return, Lance is standing at the desk, checking his phone. He’s smiling.

“Ready to go,” I say.

He hits a couple of buttons, pockets his phone, and turns that grin on me. “Cool.”

I lock up the clinic, and Lance walks me across the lot. This time he doesn’t leave the usual space between us, and the back of his hand grazes my hip.

I’m nervous when we reach my car. His Hummer is parked right behind my Mini this time. I adjust the strap of my purse and look up at him. Strangely, he looks as nervous as me.

He scans my face and takes a small step closer. I can see his hand lifting in my peripheral vision. My hair is in a ponytail, which is sitting on my shoulder. He fingers the end of it.

“Why do I always want to pull this?”

I don’t have the opportunity to answer, because he drops his head and his lips skim my cheek.

“I want to kiss you.”

“You just did,” I whisper.

“I want do it again, but here.” His thumb touches my bottom lip.

“Oh.”

He’s so close. His lips almost touching mine as he asks, “Can I do that?”

“Yes, please.”

His lids grow heavy, and he kisses the corner of my mouth. Lance strokes my cheek and rests his palm on the side of my neck. The other hand skims the length of my arm until he reaches my fingertips.

He leans back a little, and for a second I think it’s over before it’s even begun, but he takes my hand in his. Uncurling my fingers, he lifts it and presses my palm against his cheek. A full-body tremor runs through him, and his eyes drift closed. He turns his head toward my palm, and I smooth my thumb along the contour of his bottom lip. A deep sound comes from the back of his throat, making my skin prickle and heat blossom in my belly.

When he opens his eyes again, the fire in them matches the heat flooding my entire body. “Can you keep yer hand right here?”

“If you want me to, yes.”

“I definitely do.”

He leans in and brushes his lips over mine again. It’s soft and warm. The next time he takes my bottom lip between his, he releases it slowly, and then does the same with the top one. When his tongue flicks out, I might whimper. Light fingers cup my head, and I tilt it back farther.

I part my lips, and his tongue sweeps my mouth. His groan is low, sending a shiver down my spine. He drops the hand that’s keeping mine pressed against his cheek. His arm winds around my waist, and he pulls me in tight against him.

I expect the kiss to grow in intensity. It doesn’t, though I can feel the heat building inside me. That feeling I’ve been searching for all these years is finally back.

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About the Author:

NYT and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She's writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

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