Bombshells by Sarina Bowen is the 8th Brooklyn Bruisers book and delivers more of our favorite endearing characters and a sweet friends-to-lovers romance!

Bombshells

Review of Bombshells

When I’m in the mood for hockey romance, I can always count on Sarina Bowen to deliver. 

Her enduring Brooklyn Bruisers series is one of my favorite hockey romance series, so when I had the chance to read Bombshells before its release, you better believe I jumped at it.  

All of our favorites from the previous books are back, but with the bonus of the introduction of a women’s team sharing space with the men.  

As with previous books in this series, Bombshells features endearing characters, technical aspects of hockey players, and current issues in the sports world.

Bombshells Summary

Anton Bayer (aka “Baby Bayer” to his teammates) is trying to rehab his image after a year of debauchery, only planning to train, practice, and rock the stats this season.  

That is until he sees the goalie for the women’s team, then all bets are off.  Complicating matters for Anton’s situation is the long-term crush and one-sided relationship between said goalie, Sylvie, and one of Anton’s teammates.

Sylvie is still grieving the loss of her mother, so getting the call from the Bombshells is a chance of a lifetime and provides a welcome distraction.  She’s ready to move forward professionally and personally, but not everyone is on the same page—namely, Bryce, the guy she thought she was going to marry.  

Once she meets Anton, though, that childhood plan gets blown to smithereens.

Hockey Romance That’s Low on Angst, High on Swoon

Sylvie and Anton come together to make such an amazing friends-to-lovers couple.  Their banter and friendship are the highlights of the story, but there’s also a fondness and respect that shines through.   

They each have some personal issues to work through, but together, they make a great pair.

I loved the introduction of the Bombshells team, the supportive female friendships, and the focus on the pay gap that exists in the real-life hockey world. 

There’s lots of room to continue the series and I can’t wait to see what happens next!

Bombshells Audiobook

I was able to listen to this story on audiobook and it was such a treat!  I loved the narration of Patrick Zeller and Desiree Ketchum. 

Both did a great job with multiple voices, accents, and portraying the tone of the scene.  If you’re an audio lover, grab this one from your favorite retailer!

Excerpt from Bombshells

Long after daylight arrives, I lay stretched out in my bed, my eyes shut, fighting off the reality of morning.

My thighs ache, probably from yesterday’s workout. But I’m also deliciously sore in some places I didn’t know I could be sore.

Behind my shuttered eyelids, the night isn’t over yet. If I stay in this dreamlike place, I can relive each thrill that Anton gave me. Each stroke of his magic hands across my bare skin. 

As first times go, I realize I’ve hit the jackpot. His obvious skill and devotion to female pleasure make me a very lucky girl.

But that wasn’t last night’s biggest surprise. It wasn’t just the thrills and chills. It was the heady emotional journey that we seemed to take together. His kisses tasted as hungry as mine. His touch was reverent, his words desperate. 

Maybe it’s all in my head. A girl can imagine a deep connection that isn’t really there. 

I’m a pro at that, actually.

But it felt so real. Even after the last groan and gasp had passed, Anton’s kisses didn’t stop. As I floated down from the extreme high of sexual pleasure, his lips continued to trace my neck, and gentle hands smoothed over my hips and down my back.

That part—the aftermath—was just as beautiful to me. I’d never wanted it to end.

Eventually, he’d gotten up to visit my bathroom. I’d heard him running the sink and washing up. Then I’d braced myself for his departure. His team began an eight-day road trip this morning. It’s not like he had a lot of extra time to share. 

But he hadn’t thrown on his clothes and left. Instead, he’d come back to the bed, straightening out the covers we’d tossed around during our sex fest. 

Then he’d lifted the covers and slid in beside me.

Feeling blessed, I’d rolled to meet him in the middle, where strong arms wrapped me into the sweetest embrace. 

We hadn’t spoken much. I’d felt too dreamy for casual conversation. And I don’t know what I would have found to say besides wow and thank you and please feel free to do that again.

My silence had also prevented me from blurting out the news that the whole experience had been a first for me. That’s nobody’s business but mine. And Anton doesn’t need the burden of dealing with my strange life choices. 

I didn’t want him to know, because it would have changed everything. He didn’t baby me. His brand of aggressive, bossy, emotional lust was a real eye-opener. 

But only metaphorically, because I refuse to open my eyes. 

Although I’d already cheated once, when I’d rolled over to discover that Anton had left me a note—short and sweet and just as perfect as our night together.

Sylvie—you are a sleeping beauty. There aren’t words to describe last night. Except maybe “Wow.” I will call you tonight. —A.B.

And there was a smiley face. When I’d read the note, that smiley face had matched my own.

“Sylvie,” comes Fiona’s voice through the door, followed by a knock. “Are you still in bed?”

“Yes. So?” I cover my eyes with one arm, as if the extra barrier could prevent the day from arriving. 

“Get up. We have to go to brunch.”

I search my memory for anything related to brunch and come up empty. “Why? Shouldn’t you be at work?” I stretch lazily. 

“It’s Sunday. Get up. You have twenty minutes to shower and get dressed.”

“Or else?” I do not understand the urgency.

“Or else I will combust from all the questions I have for you.”

Uh-oh. Fiona seems to know that I wasn’t alone in my bedroom last night. Maybe she heard Anton leave. But I’m not about to tell the whole team about my wild night. “It’s just going to be you and me at brunch, right?”

“If you don’t get up, I’ll start inviting other people.”

“No!” I throw off the comforter. “Fine. I’m getting up.”

Thank you for the advanced copy of BOMBSHELLS by Sarina Bowen.  All opinions are my own.

Want more? Check out these posts!

About Sarina Bowen

Sarina Bowen is the USA Today bestselling author of 30+ books, including: the True North series, and the Brooklyn Bruisers. She's the co-author of Him/Us and the WAGs series with Elle Kennedy. She's the author of The Ivy Years series, and more!

Are you looking for a friends-to-lovers story or maybe even a secret baby book? You can read a list of Sarina's books broken out by trope and style.

Need to know what's coming next ? Get all the latest news on Sarina's website, and sign up for her newsletter so you don't miss a book or a deal.

About the Book

MY RATING:
4/5

date published : April 13, 2021

publisher : Self-Published

pages : 278

audiobook narrators: Patrick Zeller, Desireé Ketchum

audiobook length: 8 hrs, 13 min

Bombshells by Sarina Bowen is the 8th Brooklyn Bruisers book and delivers more of our favorite endearing characters and a sweet friends-to-lovers romance!

The women’s league is in the house! And Brooklyn will never be the same again for Anton Bayer and the team…

This is my last chance to ditch my playboy reputation and finally fulfill my potential. So I’ve made three rules for our biggest season yet: no boozing, no women, and no scandals.

Especially that last thing.

So who do I befriend on the very first day back at the rink? An amazing female hockey player. I want Sylvie in a way that’s more than just friendly. I crave her. But I have a championship to win, and so does she.

Then she gets her heart broken by my teammate, and I make the foolish mistake of comforting her in the best way I know how. Our night together sets off a string of sins.

Nobody can know about our affair, especially my overprotective teammate. I can’t let anyone see into my greedy little heart. Not even her.

The things I want from her, and the things we’ve already done? If anyone knew, there’d be bombshells.

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