Booktok Ice Hockey Novels & Stories

"Well, from what I'm hearing, you're in the game tomorrow, and since you don't know a thing about hockey, I figured we could use this power outage to study something fun for once." "What's that?" I asked, trying to peer at the book in his lap from where I was sitting. Adrien grinned, flipping a few pages as if it were a magazine. "Hockey for Dummies," he said with a wink. "Thought it might be useful for you, seeing as you've missed a couple of practices." I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks, I guess. So, what are we studying tonight? Penalty shots and checking?"

Same rink. Same stands. Same seat. I was in the third row from the glass, laptop open on a document I wasn’t going to work on because the two people on the ice below me were making it impossible to look at anything else. The rink was empty – Rhys had booked it through some favour Cole owed the facilities manager, an hour of private ice that was supposed to be for his recovery skating and was currently being used to teach a thirteen-year-old how to shoot the puck like a professional.

I so want to punch his face. “Pass.” Shouts out Calli. I take a quick look to my left and see that he is currently not marked. My choices are to pass it over to him, he could pass it off to Nolan who will hand it forward to Atlas, whilst I try to skate through their defense line, it’s going to be a push but it’s possible. Timing on the ice is everything. I pass. We don’t have time to dilly-dally, we have to make split second decisions, we have to think on our feet. As you know, ice hockey is an extremely fast game.

NOAH'S POV The private indoor lake house was silent, lit only by the moody, dim blue lights reflecting off the sheets of ice. I stood by the edge of the rink, my skates already laced tightly, leaning against the glass. The chill in the air usually calmed my head, but tonight, my chest felt like a ticking bomb. The doors at the entrance finally creaked open. Calix stepped inside, clutching his hockey bag tightly against his chest. He was shivering from the midnight air, his black curls messy, his eyes darting around the huge, dark facility with defensive panic.

I'd say, and she'd melt. One afternoon, she was in the living room, reading on the couch. I came up behind her, massaging her shoulders. "What's this one about?" "A princess and her guard. Forbidden." I leaned down, nibbling her ear. "Like us." My hands slid to her breasts, cupping them over her sweater. She dropped the book, leaning back into me. "Jake, what if someone sees?" "No one's here." I pulled her sweater up, exposing her bra. I unclasped it, letting her tits spill free, perfect handfuls with pink nipples. I pinched them, rolling until she moaned.

Made the ice look like a big sheet of glass. I took a breath and tasted the cold air. I could smell the wintergreen flavor from the ice. My hand went to my hockey shirt. I felt the tight band of my compression gear. I was feeling the pressure. I adjusted my stick in my gloves. I made sure my grip was firm. Orion skated past me. He is a guy and he can move really fast. He did not look back at me. He did not need to. He knew what he was doing. His shoulders were. His jaw was tight.

A book suddenly appeared on ivory’s hand it looked old but it was surprisingly in good shape. ‘What is this?’ ivory asked curiously. ‘It’s a technique book’. Ivory eyes lit up and she opened it, on its first page the title was written it was called Ice fist. The book contained images and writings. It involved enveloping your hands with ice such that, the ice looked like gloves. It had the ability to freeze and shatter anything punched and it could even harm those who were just a phase higher than the user. Ivory quickly sat down and immersed herself in the book. Anita finally lifted her head and smiled when she saw ivory reading. Anita suddenly looked up in worry but she wasn’t looking at wh

“Fine. Let’s watch a hockey game and I’ll teach you.” I grabbed a bag of popcorn, poured it into a bowl, and then grabbed a couple of cans of soda from the kitchen. Then I pulled up a video of a hockey game on the TV. I pulled her between my legs to sit and then pressed play. “So the fundamental thing you need to know about hockey is it’s just like regular soccer, but instead of a ball, it’s a puck, and you need to get it into the opponent’s net more than they get it into yours. Two teams, six players each. There’s a goalie that guards the net and five other skaters: forwards—they score goals—and defensemen, who stop the other team from getting in and protect the goalie,” I explained.

We didn’t go to the trial grounds where they were already building the pyre for Lucian’s sentencing. We went up to the ridge. The wind hit us as soon as we cleared the tunnel. Cold enough to burn. The shrine was half-buried in snow. Stone pillars older than the Council. Older than the Blood Crown. Moss and claw marks and old blood frozen into the cracks. And below it, stretched out like a scar, was the lake. Frozen solid, white and perfect. The pack’s rink. That’s what we call it now; Hockey. But 26 years ago it wasn’t a sport. It was a treaty.

I saw the side of his lips twitch after Eli turned his back to him. Eli stood tall and proud, like he owned every inch of the rink. I hated that I couldn't look away. Ice hockey was chaotic. Fast. Violent. Beautiful. The puck moved so quickly that I could barely track it. One second, Eli was near the blue line. Then, suddenly he was racing toward the goal post. The entire arena rose to their feet. I found myself leaning forward. Just slightly. Eli dodged one defender. Then another. The goalie moved to block the shot. For a split second, everything seemed slow, like time was gradually passing.