“A book that tells a story … a beautifully brilliant, powerful story about love and pain; trauma and forgiveness and discovering your truth while finding your place in the world.” ~Denise, Shh Mom’s Readingยฎ
Bitter Sweet Heart, a forbidden hockey romance from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting, is now available!
From the outside looking in, I live a charmed life: hockey legend for a father, my own promising future in the league, a great family, awesome friends. Itโs not untrue, but itโs not quite that simple either.
My dadโs advice has always been to make hockey my number-one priorityโat least until I make it to the pros. So, going into my senior year of college, I have a plan. Iโll put in the effort required to pass my classes, play hockey like my life depends on it, and avoid relationships. All I have to do is stay focused on the end game, and Iโll walk away with a degree and into a career in the NHL.
It should be easy.
But when a woman literally floats into my dock, just before summer ends and my senior year begins, I canโt resist one last hookup. What harm could a one-night stand do? Itโs not like we even exchanged numbers.
Everything is fine until I run into her on campus.
Itโs a big school. I should be able to avoid her.
Except she happens to be in my class.
And sheโs not a student.
Sheโs my professor.
Read today, exclusively on Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3MofZDk
Amazon Worldwide: https://geni.us/BitterSweetHeart
Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/3xt69KT
Amazon Worldwide Paperback: https://geni.us/BitterSweetHeartPB
Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3xaMYFn
You can read our review of Mav and Clover here.
Keep reading for a look inside Bitter Sweet Heart!
When seven oโclock arrives, I introduce myself and explain that Iโll be taking over for Professor Connelly. I field a few questions and reassure the students that heโs okay. I also brought in a get well soon card for them to sign. I pass it to the student directly in front of me, then pull up my attendance list and start calling names.
The door opens when Iโm halfway through, and a student straggles in. It happened in my English class earlier, but in a class of three hundred students, itโs easier to slip in the back door and quietly find a seat. Thatโs what I expect this student to do.
Except his phone starts ringing. And itโs not a normal ringtone. Itโs a song blaring through the room at full volume.
โFuck. Shit.โ Heโs standing in the middle of the room, facing the back of the class, every single student staring at him in wide-eyed horror.
He rummages around in his pocket and pulls out the offending device as Justin Bieber croons โIโm so fucking lonelyโ to the entire class. Instead of silencing it, he answers the callโon speaker.
A male voice that sounds like an angry father starts yelling. โWhy the hell am I getting calls about you being late for practice, youโreโโ
He spins around, gaze moving over the class as he takes in their looks of horror. Heโs wearing a baseball cap, and the lights above cast a shadow over his face. โOh, fuck me,โ he mutters. โHey, Dad, Iโm in the middle of class. Iโll call you back later.โ He rushes the words, so it all sounds quite garbled. Then he drops into the closest empty desk and slams his elbow on the edge on his way down. He sucks in a groan.
I give the student a look that I hope conveys how unimpressed I am. โAre you quite done?โ Iโm ready to go off on him, but he raises a hand and knocks his hat off his head.
โUh, sorry, Professor. I think I might be in the wrong class.โ His eyes dart around the room. โOr maybe not?โ
โProfessor Connelly is out for back surgery. Professor Sweet is taking over the class,โ the student beside him says.
โOh shit.โ His vibrant green gaze, ringed in hazel, meets mine.
All the air leaves my lungs on a whoosh. The room tilts, and Iโm suddenly light-headed. I can tell instantly that he recognizes me, and the silence in the room is deafening. Fortunately, he fills it by rambling out an explanation.
โSorry about the phone call. And for being late. Coach kept me after practice and my dadโs on my ass because I had a bad game. Iโm so sorry, Clโโ He clasps his hands in front of him and bites his lips together.
โDonโt let it happen again.โ
My mouth feels like itโs full of cotton, and the rest of me feels disconnected from my body. Because this student, sitting in the middle of my sophomore class, is my summer fling.
My one-night stand who left behind an origami crane and a lot of memories I wish I could now erase.
About H. Hunting
NYT and USA Today bestselling author, Helena Hunting, writing as H. Hunting, lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She started her writing career with new adult angsty romance and branched out in sports romance and romantic comedies that will make you laugh and swoon. But sometimes she likes to serve up a little heartache on the way to the happily ever after.
Connect with H. Hunting
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3NVxqwe
Instagram: http://bit.ly/2kN5wdZ
Twitter: http://bit.ly/2mloUim
Facebook: http://on.fb.me/Zt1xm5
Facebook Fan group: http://bit.ly/2kN5yCD
Website: https://bit.ly/3x2H8WI
Never miss an update! Subscribe to H. Huntingโs mailing list:
http://bit.ly/2MlRKq6
