book one of the Sleet Series
Mr. Sin
I should have run the other way. Paid my tab and gone back to my room. But he was there. And he was… everything. I figured what’s the harm in letting passion rule my decisions for one night? So what if he looks like the Devil in a suit. I’d be leaving in the morning. Flying home, back to my pleasant but predictable life. I’d never see him again.
Except I do. In the last place I expected. And now everything I’ve worked so hard for is in jeopardy.
We can’t stop what we’ve started, but this is bigger than the two of us.
And when his past comes back to haunt him, love might not be enough to save me.
book two of the Sleet Series
Sleet Sugar
My friends have convinced me. No more hockey players.
With a dad who is the Head Coach for the Minnesota Sleet, it seemed like an easy decision. My friends have also convinced me that the best way to boost my fragile self-esteem is through a one-night stand.
A dating app. A hotel bar. A sexy-as-hell man... who’s sweet, and funny, and - did I mention? sexy-as-hell… I fortified my courage and invited myself up to his room.
Assumptions. There’s a rule about them.
I assumed he was passing through town. I assumed he was a businessman, or maybe an investor, or accountant, or literally anything other than a professional hockey player. I assumed I’d never see him again.
I assumed wrong.
book three of the Sleet Series
Sleet Banshee
Mother-freaking hockey players. My friends found their happily-ever-afters with a couple of sweet, doting, over-the-top, in-love athletes. They got nicknames like Kitten and Sugar. But me? I got stuck with a dickhead who riles me up on purpose and calls me Banshee. Yeah, he might have a voice made explicitly for wet dreams. And he might have a body and face carved by the gods. And he might have a level of Alpha-hole that gets me all hot and bothered.
But when he presses my buttons, he presses ALL my buttons. And I’m not the type of girl who takes things sitting down. I mean, I only got caught on my knees that one time. In the museum.
But when my decisions get one of my friends hurt… I can’t stop blaming myself. And him.
Except he can’t take a hint. And I can’t keep my panties on.
