Two for Charging Preorders + Two for Roughing Sneak Peek

Exciting news: Preorders are now open for Two for Charging! If you order via NineStar Press, you can get the book four days early on May 22nd. Otherwise, check out the series here on Amazon or here on Smashwords.

To tide you over and/or entice you, here comes a sneak peek of book four: Two for Roughing. The line edits are done, which means there are only two more rounds of editing to go before it goes to formatting and then to ARCs!

The following section is from Chapter Six of the book and in it, you get to know a whole new team: the Chicago Firecrackers.

Enjoy! (And don't read this at work, it's a little bit NSFW)

Two for Roughing

Chapter Six

“Okay guys, hit the showers,” Coach Simmons said, concluding the Firecrackers’ end-of-practice powwow.

Topics had included the PK being shit, the second PP unit being shit, and their five-on-five stats being, while not quite shit yet, at least in the vicinity of a suspiciously wet fart. They might have won in San Francisco, but that game constituted a rare fluke in their season record, and the messy, chaotic practice they’d just completed bore witness to the team’s manifold issues.

They were due to play Columbus tomorrow. The good thing about facing Columbus with the team in such a mess was that Columbus was so much better that no one expected Chicago to win. The bad thing was the team not expecting themselves to win. Half the group entered the locker room in a crisis of confidence and the other half in the alpha male shutdown of having been yelled at by an authority figure who had the temerity to be right.

Damir headed for the showers with a sense of trepidation.

His gut feeling proved accurate. Lissy held a rousing speech, stalking up and down between the shower stalls heedless of everyone’s nudity.

“And so what if we are tied for last in the standings?” he demanded, passing by Damir’s stall with his cock swinging wildly.

Damir snorted. “So we’re not making the playoffs again.”

Lissy rounded on him. “It is November! Would you lose faith so early?”

“I’m not losing faith.” It wasn’t a lie if he’d never had faith to begin with, right?

“Do you need me to turn the helicopter on you?”

Damir groaned. “How would that help?”

“Boys, Denisov needs to be lifted up!” Lissy called. “What does this call for?”

“The helicopter!” at least three teammates chanted, which had to be against the Geneva convention.

“If he doesn’t want it—” Henderson tried. A kind gesture, but ultimately futile.

Lissy advanced on Damir, rotating his hips in jerky circles, causing his cock to spin around, reminding Damir of a propeller made of skin and meat.

Damir fixed his gaze firmly on the tile wall. Why were straight men like this? Did women enjoy this? It seemed unlikely. Damir, as a decade-long verified enjoyer of dicks, could not see the appeal of Lissy’s grotesque gyrations. He had no idea who this production was for.

“Come on, Denny!” Lissy cried. “Our top goal scorer has to believe!”

“This isn’t Peter Pan.” Damir turned his back on the obscene display, shampooing his hair. “I won’t click my heels and magically land us a playoff spot.”

“Pretty sure that’s the Wizard of Oz,” Ketchup called from the opposite side of the showers, the traitor.

Damir braved a glance over his shoulder to glare. Thankfully, Lissy had stopped his gyrating, meaning his cock now rested against his thighs where it belonged. “I apologize for not remembering which strange American children’s film is which.”

“I think Peter Pan is British,” Henderson mused.

Damir shot him a betrayed look. If there was one person who could be relied upon to be seminormal in the locker room, it was Henderson.

“Nah, man.” Ketchup shook his head. “Disney made the movie which makes it American.”

In the ensuing debate about whether the book or the movie ought to count in determining the nationality of children’s media, Damir finished his shower in relative peace and got dressed while considering what he could do to improve the special teams.

***

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