Sunday Snippet

 

Today's snippet is from my hockey/ice skater romance, Enforcing Emory. Available for purchase at AMAZON or a free read on Kindle Unlimited.

Blurb

Olympic figure skater Emory Lowe falls in lust the moment he lays eyes on his new neighbor, hockey player Nikolai Vetrov. On the surface, Nik is a typical badass enforcer, intimidating and dangerous, on and off the ice. The only son of Ukrainian immigrants, Nik has been groomed from childhood to fulfill his father’s dream of seeing him in the Hockey Hall of Fame. Igor guides his son toward that goal with a controlling—and oftentimes abusive—hand, steering him clear of anyone who might ruin his chances.

Although Emory is the US National Figure Skating champion, he’s in-your-face gay, and his audacious persona rubs Nik and his family the wrong way. Raised by supporting and loving parents, Emory is Nik’s polar opposite in every way but one—his desire to succeed. Underneath the feather boa, glitter, and makeup beats the heart of a fierce competitor, and this side of Emory’s personality begins to close the distance between the two athletes.

While the attraction is one-sided in the beginning, Nik finds himself responding to Emory’s flirting. But before the incongruous pair have a chance at any sort of relationship, they must survive the pressure of career, separation, and most importantly, Igor’s ruthless homophobia.

Snippet

“It was a beauty mark,” Emory said, shrugging his shoulders. “I put it there to match my outfit.”

“Are you sure you didn’t wear the inverted pink triangle as a form of protest?”

“Me?” Emory asked innocently. “I’m a figure skater, not a politician. It was part of my costume—that’s all.”

Emory was standing in front of the International Olympic Committee, who’d been gathered to decide the fate of his silver medal. As the judges got wind of the significance of the mark on Emory’s face, voices began to rise in protest, the Russians in particular. It was a double-edged sword for the Russians, however, because if Emory continued to deny the significance of the mark and the Russians continued to insist it was gay related, they would draw the world’s attention to their biased agenda. After all the controversy Putin’s policies had created pre-Olympics, they didn’t need another reminder that the host country was rampantly homophobic. However, the committee had to make sure there was no truth to the rumor that Emory had deliberately painted on the symbol to protest Russia’s lack of sympathy toward human rights and LGBT athletes.

“Tell us about that,” a committee member asked suspiciously. “Who or what were you portraying?”

“Why, Lady Gaga, of course,” Emory said, looking at the group like they’d lost their minds. “It was her music. And as the song says, we’re born a certain way and there’s no changing it. I was emoting her unflappable style—method acting, if you want to get technical. If I had skated to Puccini’s Madam Butterfly, I would have worn a kimono top and black-lacquered wig, or dressed like a swan if I’d done Swan Lake. Can’t you understand?”

“She’s a woman,” one of them pointed out. “Why would you want to wear a female’s outfit when you’re clearly a male?”

Emory lifted an eyebrow and made a moue of disgust before replying. “Men have portrayed female roles on the stage for eons. Why should we skaters be any different, or do you want to keep us in a gender box? If so, you should have stated it in the rules.”

“Do you deny that you were trying to send some sort of message?”

“Puh-leeze,” Emory enunciated dramatically. “This program won me the US Nationals, and if they didn’t have any objections, I don’t see why you people are making such a stink.”

“Did you wear the beauty mark when you performed this last?”

Emory pretended to think and finally said, “Probably not. I was wearing orange and the pink would have clashed. I happen to have great color sense, in case you haven’t noticed, and pink and orange just aren’t meant to go together.”

“I see,” the speaker said, looking visibly annoyed.

“Glad you agree,” Emory said breezily. “Although they have said that orange is the new black. Perhaps I’ll try that combination next time.”

“Mr. Lowe,” the speaker admonished, “you don’t seem to realize how serious this is.”

“Frankly, you’re making a big fuss over nothing,” Emory said flatly. “Let’s chalk this up to a misunderstanding, unless you people really are as bad as our host country and have issues with a man wearing pink and a ton of makeup. In that case, I’d have to wonder if I actually won the gold but lost because someone didn’t like my false eyelashes.”

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