Cover and Excerpt Reveal and Giveaway: Shameless Puckboy: Eden Finley & Saxon James
Feast your eyes on this SCORCHING HOT cover for SHAMELESS PUCKBOY by Eden Finley & Saxon James, created by Story Styling Cover Designs with photo credit to Wander Aguiar Photography featuring Camden!
SHAMELESS PUCKBOY is a steamy, forbidden love, M/M hockey romance standalone arriving on October 27th and is the third book in their entertaining and addictive Puckboys series.
NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER!
Don’t miss this tempting sneak peek excerpt, add SHAMELESS PUCKBOY to your Goodreads TBR and enter Eden & Saxon’s rafflecopter for your chance to get your hands on Oskar & Lane early here: https://geni.us/bB9fpr
OSKAR
After a little mishap in an alleyway with CCTV, my public image needs fixing. Oops?
It might have been a stunt to get the attention of Lane Pierce, San Jose’s new PR manager, but I didn’t realize what the consequences would be when I did it. I’ve got Lane’s sole focus now in all the wrong ways.
He has designated himself as my babysitter, and while it’s fun messing with him, being bound by curfews and rules has never worked for me.
The more I push back, the more I realize what’s really on the line. My career, my future, and maybe even my heart.
LANE
Being appointed head of San Jose’s PR department was a dream come true … until I met Oskar Voyjik.
He may be San Jose royalty, but with the stunts Oskar’s been pulling, the team owner is down to his last thread of patience. Which puts me in the firing line. If I can’t turn Oskar’s entitled party boy image around, we’ll both be shown the door.
I have free rein to do whatever it takes, and it turns out whatever it takes is Oskar.
Only, the more entangled our lives become, the more I see the Oskar he’s buried deep down. The one who hurts, the one who’s sensitive and kind, the one … the one I think I’m falling for.
I can’t have him and my career, and if rumors of the professional lines I’ve crossed get out, it’s not only my dream job I can kiss goodbye; I’ll be disgraced from professional sports completely.
It’s not my fault I was left unsupervised. Or that Lane’s guys trusted me to do as I was told. Everyone from the PR department has been really slow to learn their lesson.
But Lane’s certainly figured it out. Or figured me out. I’m not sure which it is yet, but living with him is going to be fun. So fun.
Starting now.
When my doorbell rings, I drop my sweats to the floor so I’m completely naked and then run a hand through my hair to make it look messy in that I’ve been fucked six ways till Sunday kind of way.
Yet, when I answer the door, I don’t get the reaction I expect. Or want.
There’s no exasperation, no large sigh. In fact, Lane’s not even looking at me.
He’s looking up at the house, which is only a few years old. It’s boxy and modern but lacks all the frills of what people expect a professional hockey player to have. I’m only renting because I’m not dumb enough to think my antics will be tolerated forever; I assume San Jose is only a short stop on the ever-changing trades the NHL like to do. I’ve been with San Jose for almost three years now; before that, I was in Texas, and before that, I was with Columbus. I get passed around more times than a bottom in a gang bang. And hey, I will never complain about being that guy.
I don’t want to lay down roots. It’s not me. I get antsy if I’m in one place for too long. My talent as a hockey player keeps getting me contracts, but my PR nightmares are what get me traded.
After an insulting amount of time, Lane looks at me, and there’s the reaction I wanted: a loud sigh, a set jaw that’s unshaven and has speckles of gray filtered through the dark scruff, and his intense brown gaze locked on my face. As if he’s picked that one tiny, singular freckle I have on my cheek to stare at so he’s not tempted to look anywhere near my junk. Or my full chest of tattoos that’s a fucking work of art.
“Your house is unexpected,” he says.
“My house or my dick?”
“Definitely the house. The dick is … typical.”
I act offended. “Excuse me, there is nothing typical about my dick at all. It’s a phenomenal specimen of masculinity and pleasure.”
“Uh-huh, sure. Is that why you had to tattoo a phrase that translates to orgasm above it? To remind your partners of what they’re supposed to do?”
“I didn’t realize you’d taken that much notice of my tattoos.”
He does the grown-up version of rolling his eyes—directing a derisive, unimpressed look my way, gaze still firmly set on my face. “I’m your PR manager. You don’t think I had to approve those naked shots you did at the beginning of the season? We actually had issues finding one that hid that specific tattoo.”
“What’s wrong with my tattoo? It’s advertising what to expect.”
Outside, a neighbor walks by and glances up as Lane follows my gaze and turns. His shifting means I’m no longer blocked from view and ends up giving them an eyeful.
I wave. “Hi, Mrs. Huxley!”
“You might want to put some clothes on for once, Oskar. It’s a bit cold out here.”
My mouth drops, and I ask Lane, “Did she just say my dick is small? She obviously needs glasses. Poor old bat can’t see properly.”
“I can’t believe she didn’t even blink at you being naked.”
“Oh, they’re used to it. There’s one rule in my house, and that’s no clothes allowed. Welcome.” I step aside to let him in. “You may enter once you get rid of that awful sweater and suit pants.”
“Not going to happen.” Lane pushes past me. “And while I’m here, your rules are void. I make the rules from now on.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Rule number one: no calling me daddy.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He already looks like he wants to kill me.
“Okay, fine, I won’t call you daddy. But I’m not calling you Mr. Pierce either.”
“Lane is fine. If you put some goddamn clothes on.”
Puckboys - Book One
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EZRA
Partying, dudes, and hockey. What more could a gay NHL player want?
If it weren't for Anton Hayes, my life would be perfect.
Not that he affects my life in any way. At all. That would imply I care what the winger from Philly thinks of me.
Which I don't.
Not even a one-night stand with him can thaw his misplaced animosity toward me.
He says I'm the one with the ego, but he can talk. He rivals me for most egotistical puck boy in the league.
I hate him as much as he hates me. Even if I crave a repeat.
ANTON
When it comes to hockey, I'm all about the game.
I've worked for years to be one of the best in the league, and l've done it without splashing my orientation all over the tabloids.
My hockey image is one I've carefully cultivated, and after one night with Ezra Palaszczuk, I risk it all.
He's cocky, obnoxious, and has an ego bigger than Massachusetts. And okay, maybe he's the sexiest man I've ever known.
We'll never get along. Not when we sleep together. Not even when my possessive streak awakens.
That doesn't stop us from falling into bed together over and over again.
IRRESPONSIBLE PUCKBOY
Puckboys - Book Two
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TRIPP
The worst part of being in love with my straight best friend is the fact he’s too oblivious to see it.
Years of pining have left me exhausted, and I need a break from Dex. I need space to get over my feelings. But when his relationship falls apart and he turns to me for comfort, I cave immediately.
If there’s one thing I hate more than being hurt, it’s seeing Dex struggle. I can’t leave him in a time of need, even if my friends say it’s my biggest downfall.
They say Dexter Mitchale is my weakness, but if that’s true, I don’t want to be strong.
DEX
I’ve always been the dumb one. It’s what I’m known for, and usually I don’t let it get to me.
I have hockey, and I have my best friend, Tripp. What more do I need?
To settle down? No thank you. Marriage? Hard pass.
According to ex-girlfriends, that makes me “irresponsible.”
But the solution I come up with to get over my fear of commitment might be my dumbest idea yet. Not only does it have team management breathing down my neck, but it puts a strain on my friendship with Tripp.
This PR nightmare could lose me the only person I’ve ever loved.
Losing girlfriends is nothing. Losing Tripp? It’s not an option.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him.
Eden Finley
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She doesn't take anything too seriously and lives to create an escape from real life for her readers. The ideas always begin with a wackadoodle premise, and she does her best to turn them into romances with heart.
With a short attention span that rivals her son's, she writes multiple different pairings: MM, MMF, and MF.
She's also an Australian girl and apologises for her Australianisms that sometimes don't make sense to anyone else.
Saxon James
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Saxon James unapologetically writes happy endings for LGBT+ characters.
While not writing, SM is a readaholic and Netflix addict who regularly lives on a sustainable diet of chocolate and coffee.
Member of SCBWI.
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