


Today we are celebrating the release of LUCA by Brenda Rothert. This is a contemporary romance, standalone, and it is the second title in the Chicago Blaze hockey romance series. Purchase your copy now!
Add the book to your TBR Pile now!
Purchase on Amazon | Nook | Kobo | Apple Books
Follow Brenda’s newsletter for exclusive details!
Luca by Brenda Rothert
Now Available
Chicago Blaze, #2
Purchase on Amazon | Nook | Kobo | Apple Books
Book Blurb:
Abby
I only have one love nowβthe home furnishings business Iβm building into an empire. Maybe money and success canβt love me back, but they keep whatβs left of my heart safe. One-night stands are my way of scratching the occasional itch I get for something more. And no oneβs better for that than a sexy as sin hockey player Iβll never see again after one very hot night together.
Luca
I used to love two things: hockey and women. But now my nieces and nephew are my top priority, because Iβm raising them after tragedy stole their parents. Somehow I balance single parenthood and my career as a forward for the Chicago Blaze. Thereβs no time for women, until I get knocked on my ass by Abby Daniels. Sheβs everything Iβve ever wanted, but her devastating past may end us before we even get started.
Add the book to Goodreads
Excerpt:
βHold still, Uncle Luca.β
My niece Emerson gives me her best glare, but sheβs five and cute, so it makes me smile.
βIβm trying,β I tell her, checking out the dark purple polish sheβs trying to brush onto my nails.
Itβs not my inability to hold still that has more nail polish on my skin than my nails; itβs her technique. My βMANicureβ, as my two nieces like to call it, started with my ten-year-old niece Cora and was then passed off to Emerson.
βI found yogurt!β Cora says as she breezes into my bathroom. βItβs got strawberries in the bottom, but thatβs okay. This face mask will make you smell good, Uncle Luca.β
I try not to roll my eyes. Itβll be better than the last face mask they whipped up in the kitchen, which had butter in it and was a bitch to scrub off in the shower.
βI have to leave for practice in twenty-five minutes,β I remind the girls. βAnd I still need a shower. So you have ten more minutes to beautify me.β
βWill you paint my nails, too?β Cora asks me.
βSure.β
I was shit at painting nails when I first became the legal guardian of my two nieces and one nephew a little over a year ago. With practice, though, Iβve gotten pretty damn good at it.
βHow long βtil Gram and Gramps will be here?β Emerson asks, still painting my thumb nail even though sheβs looking at me.
βAbout four hours βtil their flight lands, then maybe an hour for them to get to the house.β
Her toothless grin of excitement makes me ignore the nail polish I can feel on my knuckle.
βEmerson!β Cora yells. βYou ruined it! That looks awful.β
Cora picks up the bottle of purple nail polish and Emersonβs happy expression drops away.
βGive it to me,β Cora huffs, holding out her hand for the handle to the polish. βI never should have let you do it.β
βHey, now.β I give Cora a sharp look. βShe was doing her best.β
Coraβs eyes flood with tears. Emerson edges closer to me, because she knows what happens when Cora gets upset.
βHe wonβt let us do spa days if you mess it up!β Cora cries, glaring at her younger sister. βYou ruined everything!β
βYou didnβt ruin anything,β I tell Emerson. βAnd Cora, I never said we wouldnβt do this again. We can do a big spa day after my road trip, okay?β
Cora wipes her eyes and nods, still crying. It kills me to see her like this. As the oldest, she carries more of the weight from the deaths of her parents than her siblings. Weβve been in counseling for more than a year now, transitioning through the death of their mother, my sister-in-law Danielle, to the kidsβ new life with me as their guardian. The clinical terms for what Cora struggles withβanxiety and controlling tendenciesβare easier for me to handle than her breakdowns.
The tension leaves the room and Emerson starts my massage, which is pretty much just her karate chopping my shoulders, while Cora slathers strawberry yogurt onto my face.
βIs your shoulder better?β Cora asks me.
βYep, itβs all good.β
βThink my mashage helped?β Emerson asks from behind me.
She canβt pronounce some words, and I kinda hope thatβll last longer, because it gets me every time.
βIt definitely helped,β I tell her.
I tweaked my shoulder at practice yesterday, and Cora noticed me wince when I was taking out the trash last night. She worries about every sinus cold and bruise I get. I canβt blame the kid. Her dad, my brother Matt, died serving in Iraq and her mom passed away from cancer a year later.
βHey, letβs get your nails painted, Cora,β I say after glancing at my watch. βIβve only got five minutes til I have to hit the shower.β I turn to Emerson. βCan you go get the nail polish remover, peanut?β
βOkay.β She races from the room, brown curls flying behind her.
————–
AUTHOR INFORMATION:
