Kate Willoughby & Chirping

KateWCover

Please welcome guest author Kate Willoughby to the Cafe!

I am so excited to be here again to celebrate my new hockey romance, OUT OF THE GAME. It’s the third book in my In the Zone series from Carina Press and I’m thrilled with the early reviews. Readers are responding to Alex Sullivan, the snarky man-whore who has honed his chirping skill to a fine edge.

What is chirping you ask?  Chirping is what they call trash talking in hockey. You insult the opposing players in various ways and get under their skin so that maybe they don’t play as well as they might have. Or you do it just because it’s fun. (Guys love to goad each other, don’t they?)

Anyway, Alex is a master chirper, so it makes sense when he tries to give Claire, the object of his desire, a lesson in how to chirp, as seen here…

Set-up: Claire and Alex are attending the wedding of a teammate. There is a synthetic ice rink there, like the one in this picture, but much more romantic and a lot bigger.

Ice Skating Rink

Photo credit: XTRAICE Synthetic Ice Rinks, via Creative Commons License

Alex noticed the direction of Claire’s gaze and stopped walking. “Hey, let’s go check out the rink.”

“Okay, but I’m not skating.”

“Don’t be such a pussy. We’ll have the whole thing to ourselves.”

“Did…did you just call me a pussy?” First he said “fuck you” to her, and now, this. One thing was for sure. If she was going to spend time with Alex Sullivan she had to accept his lack of a verbal filter.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I thought we went over this already. First rule of hanging out with a hockey player. You have to be willing to take chirps, especially if you’re going to dish them out.” He started walking again. So did she. “So, you have two choices when someone chirps you. You can either protest, which will just invite more chirping, or you can fire one back. For example, when someone calls you a pussy, you could say, ‘I am not a pussy,’ but I don’t recommend that. You sound like a whiny five-year-old if you say that.”

“What do you do?” she asked.

“Assuming it was a guy calling me a pussy, I would probably say something about the size of his dick. That’s always good. ‘At least my prick’s bigger than a mini carrot.’ Or ‘At least a woman notices when I stick my dick inside her.’ Something like that.”

Claire bit her lip, not wanting to encourage him, even though she wanted to laugh. He was so unequivocally male.

The attendant manning the skating rink perked up at their approach.

“You got a size 12?” Alex asked him.

The attendant went to one of the cubbies. “Yes, sir.”

“Cream Puff, tell him what size you wear.”

“Alex, I told you I’m not skating.”

“Pussy.”

“Pencil dick,” she blurted.

Alex beamed. “That’s my girl! I taught her that,” he said to the attendant.

“Well done, sir.”

She had to laugh. “That’s the first time I’ve ever called anyone a pencil dick.”

“Hopefully, it won’t be the last,” Alex said. “You should call someone a pencil dick at least once a month. Now tell the man your shoe size.”

Have you ever called someone a pencil dick? Have you ever wanted to? Either way, comment below and you’ll be entered to win copies of the first two In the Zone books, On the Surface and Across the Line. Please leave your email so I can notify you if you’ve won. Deadline to comment March 31.

And if you’d like to read about what else Alex teaches Claire (and perhaps more importantly, vice-versa), try Out of the Game.

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Kate Willoughby happily writes her hockey romances in Southern California. She is married and has two sons, a dog, and a betta fish. When she’s not writing, she’s watching hockey. When it’s not hockey season, she whines a lot.

If you’d like to keep up with Kate’s new releases visit her blog or better yet, subscribe to her newsletter. You can also watch her succumb to her Twitter addiction, laugh while she flails around on Facebook, or ogle the man candy, among other things, on Pinterest.