Title: The Keeper Series: Fall River #1 Author: G.K. Brady
Genres: Contemporary Romance Tropes: Small Town/Opposites Attract/Forced Proximity/Grumpy-Sunshine/Black Sheep Release Date: May 23, 2024
BLURB
A mountain blizzard. An injured dog. A romance that caught them both by surprise.
Hailey Bailey craves safety. Raised by an alcoholic father chasing a dream of surfing superstardom, the down-to-earth health inspector just wants a comfortable salary and benefits. But when she attempts to save a lost dog in a blizzard and causes a pickup truck to crash, she’s awed by the handsome driver who protects her from the storm.
Noah Hunnicutt can’t catch a break. Struggling to keep his tavern afloat and impress his judgmental father, the twenty-eight-year-old family pariah is also fending off an obsessed hookup and his money-grabbing, two-timing ex-girlfriend. To top it off, he never expected he’d be rescuing the very woman who made him wreck his truck. But with the gregarious beauty now stranded in town, he can’t say no when she offers to help him out by waiting tables.
Enchanted by the tiny hamlet’s cast of quirky characters, Hailey begins to envision a life there … with the hunky bar owner on her arm. But a series of menacing notes has her rethinking that future. Meanwhile, Noah discovers his troubles aren’t only with vengeful exes when the lovely lady’s smarmy boss arrives to shut his business down. As Noah grapples with doubts about Hailey’s honesty, she contends with an increasingly hostile work environment that has her questioning her moral compass.
Can they overcome the outside forces working against them and cultivate a lasting love? Or will they be left to wonder what could have been?
She removed her puffy coat, folded it beside his, and shimmied into the nest he’d created. She lay on her side, making herself as narrow as possible, facing the back of the seat as he’d instructed her. Sliding behind her, he tugged the covers over his shoulders, and a woodsy man small enveloped her. She froze in place at the feel of his big body behind hers, luxuriating in his heat while trying to keep some distance between them. Doing so proved impossible on the narrow bench seat. He folded one arm under his head and draped the other over his hip, taking obvious care not to touch her more than he had to. “You warm enough?” His chest rumbled with the words. “Y-Yes,” she stammered. “What about you?” Was his back exposed? The blankets weren’t big enough to cover them both completely, and his frame was too long to stretch out. “I’ll live. We can switch it up if we need to.” His warm breath stroked her cheek. He tucked his knees behind hers and shifted his weight in the too-tight space, his limbs stretching, flexing, and finally softening. He was all hard angles and planes, and an unwanted thrill coursed through her entire body. She’d never lain beside a man who felt so … manly.
#2
Hailey leaned against a cluttered credenza Noah needed to clear. “Did you know they call you the ‘keeper’?” He shook his head. “Why?” He kept his eyes fixed on hers so they didn’t drift down to her neckline and all that skin. “Well, the most obvious reason is you’re their favorite bartender. But apparently you have a reputation for listening to everyone’s troubles and keeping them to yourself. Your female customers are especially appreciative of your ability to keep a secret. I wonder why?” She sent him a sly wink. “Oh,” came his witty response. While part of her statement gave him a warm flicker of pride, the other part made him squirm under her amused scrutiny. Or maybe the shots of whiskey sloshing in his empty stomach explained his sudden discomfort. “I can’t blame them. You do shake a mean martini, barkeep. And the way you toss those liquor bottles. Phew!” She faked a forehead swipe. For a breath-stealing moment, their eyes locked, and he couldn’t break it. What is really going through that beautiful head of yours? She cast her gaze down and pushed away from the credenza in an uncharacteristically jerky way, so different from her usual feline grace. A spray of greenery stuck to the hem of her skirt, and she plucked it off and held it in her open palm. “Oops, I hope I didn’t crush this. What is it?” He ate up the distance between them, leaving mere inches of space, and lifted the vegetation from her hand. “Mistletoe. I really need to organize that credenza.” Her pale blue eyes darkened as she scanned his face. “Mistletoe?” The word rolled out of her mouth in a breathless rush. Was it possible she was as hot and bothered as he was? “It’s left over from Christmas last year. We had it hanging everywhere,” he stammered. “Dixie thought we could save it and reuse it this year, but it’s looking a little ragged.” He held it over his head to see if it would crumble. “Barkeep, are you trying to get yourself kissed? If so, it’s the wrong time of year.” He yanked his gaze back to hers. “I thought any time of year was the right time,” his mouth said for him. A kiss wasn’t what he’d been going for … or was it? Hailey had been dancing in his line of sight and his mind’s eye, dousing him with hits of dopamine for most of the day, and the Jameson had dissolved his restraints into a mellow amber puddle. He wanted her. Despite knowing he shouldn’t, despite the sirens blaring in his head. It wasn’t only his libido talking, though. Something else was at work, an undercurrent that was as powerful as it was vague and elusive. For an electrified instant, he swam in the depths of those crystalline eyes, recording every fleck, every nuance of their shading, while a debate escalated in his head. He shouldn’t do this. It was a bad idea. The reason why was a little fuzzy, though, and the alarms faded to a dull noise. She probably thought he had lost it as he stood there, holding the damn mistletoe in the air while he stared down at her. But if she did, she didn’t show it. Instead, she tilted her chin up and glanced at the desiccated plant, murmuring, “So are you just going to hold it there all night?” Again, his mouth took over for his short-circuited brain. “Until I can invent a different reason why you should let me kiss you, then, yeah, I probably am.” Her eyes flared and lowered to his mouth before slowly leveling with his again. “Who says you have to invent anything?”
AUTHOR BIO
Since childhood, all sorts of stories and characters have lived in G.K. Brady’s imagination, elbowing one another for attention, so she’s finally giving them their voice on the written page.
An award-winning writer of contemporary romance, she loves telling tales of the less-than-perfect hero or heroine who transforms with each turn of a page. She also writes historical fiction under the pen name Griffin Brady.
G.K. is a wife and the proud mom of three grown sons. When she’s not writing, she might be reading, traveling, drinking wine, listening to music, or gardening—sometimes all at once! She currently resides in Colorado with her very patient husband.
Title: Love Rinkside A Playmakers Series Standalone Novella Author: G.K. Brady
Genres: Contemporary Sports Romantic Comedy Tropes: Co-worker’s Brother/Secret Love Release Date: October 31, 2023
BLURB
She’s given up on men. He has no time for love. When a Halloween party turns into a night of outrageous costumes and police chases, can they score a forever goal?
Drew Foster is trapped in a one-man operation. Focused on building his small IT consulting business, the workaholic thirty-one-year-old has no time for close relationships except with his sister and widowed mom. But at a Halloween bash hosted by his brother-in-law’s hockey teammate, he hits it off with an unknown woman in an outrageous mascot costume.
Katie Denning is done with men. Burned by past boyfriends using her to get close to the professional sports team, the loyal dog-lover leaves the party with a guy dressed as a giant banana slug… only to be pursued by police. And after a night of adventure and fun with the cute guy running from the cops, she plucks up the courage to ask him on a date.
Though their romantic rendezvous is cut short by her Chow-mix attacking him, a determined Drew asks for a second chance. A cautiously optimistic Katie begins falling hard, but she fears Drew’s work demands could result in her facing another painful rejection.
Are they about to get stuck on the sidelines before they can score a forever goal?
The entire scene was hilarity on steroids. “Hmm, interesting offer, but let’s put a pin in it for now, shall we?” She tapped her forefinger against her chin. “I’d like to know a little bit more about the banana slug I’m contemplating taking on as my prison break buddy.” “Good call. My parents always warned my sister not to trust just any old banana slug.” A laugh rolled from deep in her belly, and the fact that he had caused it shot warm tingles through his bloodstream. He chuckled. “Tell you what. Hit me with twenty questions—no holds barred—so you can get to know me better.” “All right. Cats or dogs?” “Definitely dogs.” “Vanilla or cookies and cream?” “Mint chocolate chip.” “Thinking outside the box. I like that, Sammy. Beach or mountains?” “Mountains. That’s why I live here.” She paused a beat. “Women, men, both, or none of the above?” He didn’t hesitate. “Women. Always.” “Hockey or baseball?” “No contest. Hockey.” “Favorite season?” “Fall.” “Missionary or reverse cowgirl?” Her voice was suddenly breathy, sultry, and it made his dick go from semi to full mast in a nanosecond. “You just got more interesting.” “Clever, but that doesn’t answer my question,” she said in a school teacher voice. “Your go-to position?” “All of the above. In all variations. I’m flexible that way.” “Phew! It’s getting hot out here.” The snowflakes were turning to virtual bursts of steam as they hit the atmosphere sizzling between them. “Keep going. You have eleven more questions by my count.” And he couldn’t wait to hear every single one.
Since childhood, all sorts of stories and characters have lived in G.K. Brady’s imagination, elbowing one another for attention, so she’s finally giving them their voice on the written page.
An award-winning writer of contemporary romance, she loves telling tales of the less-than-perfect hero or heroine who transforms with each turn of a page. She also writes historical fiction under the pen name Griffin Brady.
G.K. is a wife and the proud mom of three grown sons. When she’s not writing, she might be reading, traveling, drinking wine, listening to music, or gardening—sometimes all at once! She currently resides in Colorado with her very patient husband.
The knight charging to her rescue is the last person in the world she wants to see. Now she owes him, and he’s ready to collect.
When Serena Lambert finds herself in danger, a knight in shining armor charges out of the darkness to her rescue. More shocking than his appearance in the nick of time is the knight himself: Wyatt Tompkins, the copper-haired star of her work nightmares. Just when the Colorado Blizzard’s PR director thought she was finally rid of the biggest pain in her butt and his outrageous tabloid shenanigans … But what’s the saying about bad pennies always turning up?
Being a famous NHL goaltender comes with a lot of perks, on and off the ice, and Wyatt has taken advantage of every single one. But when he becomes the NHL’s most infamous netminder, he loses more than the fringe benefits—he forfeits his roster spot. He wants back in. Sadly, the one person who can help him salvage his image and his livelihood has written him off, despite his heroics.
Wyatt needs Serena’s seriously savvy PR skills, and he’s not beyond leveraging the payback. He’s even willing to overlook her prickly exterior to get her on his side. After all, she’s already familiar with his brand of crazy … and it doesn’t hurt that she’s easy on the eyes. Oh yeah, he’d love to get her between the sheets, but what begins to intrigue him even more is taking a deep dive into her guarded psyche.
Serena is focused on launching her career into the stratosphere and making herself indispensable to the team—as soon as she overcomes a conniving coworker. Helping Wyatt will only steal time and energy from her goal, but she can’t deny that more sizzles beneath his roguish smile. Bit by excruciating bit, Serena peels back the layers to reveal the real heart beating beneath the goalie gear.
Oil and water don’t mix, though … they merely leave an oil slick. Can these two find the right blend and net their happily-ever-after?
Giggles exploded from her. “Is this the masterful operator women have been making such a fuss about all these years?” He corralled a laugh of his own. “Glad you know women make a fuss. I assure you I’m usually much smoother than this.” “That’s not what I’m laughing at. It’s the fact that you’re a goalie who contorts himself in the net but somehow can’t get his pants off.”
#2
Voices sounded in the hall—one of them very familiar—and Wyatt took two backward strides in time to distance himself from Terry before Serena sailed into the room. She came to an abrupt halt, her eyes bouncing between them. Terry gave her a smug smile and turned toward her office but not before winking at Wyatt. “Don’t forget your promise, handsome.” Her hips swung in an exaggerated side-to-side motion, making her ass jiggle as she slowly paraded back to her office and shut the door. Serena swiveled her head to him and arched curious eyebrows. “Promise?” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and back. “She thinks I promised to … shit, I’m not sure what she thinks I promised, although I have a pretty good idea. And for the record, I didn’t promise a damn thing.” Serena crossed her arms over her chest, and his eyes drifted to the swell beneath her gray silk blouse. She wore a black pencil skirt and simple black heels that accented her trim waist and shapely legs. Today, she was professional Serena, but something about her getup was sexy as hell. Maybe because of what was hidden under those practical clothes. He took a quick inventory of the pearly buttons on her blouse and imagined popping a few to get a closer look at what he’d touched the night before. “Tompkins, would you please stop that?” He snapped his eyes back to hers. “Stop what?” “Stop looking at me like you’re a wolf and I’m a baby lamb.” Fire blazed in her aquamarine-colored eyes, drawing him in. “A lamb is a baby.” Moving closer, he fingered her loose hair. “And it’s also one of my favorite things to eat.” “Oh, for God’s sake! First, you’re canoodling with Miss Shiny Apples and now you’re trying to cozy up to me? Who does that? Never mind,” she grumbled. “I forgot who I was dealing with.” One corner of his mouth hitched in a smug smile. “Am I detecting jealousy, Lambert?” “Me, jealous? Ha!” He continued slipping the silk of her hair between his fingers. “Don’t deny it. I see that little green monster in those blue eyes. And you know what? I like it.” The few times he’d been the subject of women’s jealousy, he had found it annoying, amusing, tedious, or some combination of the three. But right now, he was warming to Serena’s version—assuming he was reading her right, and that was one big-ass assumption. She batted his hand away. “Well, don’t get used to it, buddy, because it’s all in your delusional, over-inflated opinion of yourself. We kissed last night in a moment of … lunacy. Shouldn’t have happened and won’t happen again because it didn’t mean anything.” She tossed an arm toward Terry’s closed door. “You’re a free agent, and I don’t care what you and Shiny Apples do. Have at her. You two should make a fine pair.” His hand, like his mouth, dropped like a hunk of hot lead. “Hey, wait a minute. First of all, I was not canoodling with her, whatever the hell that means. It was the other way around. She was getting friendly with me. Second of all—” Serena snorted. “And you, paragon of virtue that you are, resisted.” “No, I didn’t resist because resisting implies I was tempted in the first place, which I wasn’t. Contrary to my reputation, I do not take advantage of every opportunity that comes my way. And you know what else? She doesn’t want me. She wants what you have, like a spoiled kid would … and she’s gunning for it, so you better watch yourself, sweet cheeks.” Serena’s mouth turned down, her face contorting with an I-just-sucked-on-a-lemon look. “Are you implying I have you?” Oops. Had he just committed a Freudian slip? “Figure of speech. Although if you want me, I’m all yours.” He waggled his eyebrows.
ALSO AVAILABLE IN THE PLAYMAKERS SERIES
Third Man In (Book 2) is 99c for a very limited time!
Since childhood, all sorts of stories and characters have lived in G.K. Brady’s imagination, elbowing one another for attention, so she’s finally giving them their voice on the written page.
An award-winning writer of contemporary romance, she loves telling tales of the less-than-perfect hero or heroine who transforms with each turn of a page. She also writes historical fiction under the pen name Griffin Brady.
G.K. is a wife and the proud mom of three grown sons. When she’s not writing, she might be watching hockey, reading, traveling, drinking wine, listening to music, or gardening—sometimes all at once! She currently resides in Colorado with her very patient husband.
Book Loving Pixies 