Ice Hockey Booktok Novels & Stories

I was late morning when Tristan entered the room pulling my head of the book, I looked at him in slight amazement. “We have the conference call in twenty minutes.” He greeted stepping into the room as I looked up. “What?” He asked and I held up the book. “Tristan, this book.” I stated not really knowing how to explain it. “It’s a novel, just a story that I found in the library, but it’s based on a family of werewolves, the two daughters, twins, were born with a special gift, they could produce fire and ice.” I uttered and watched as his brows rose. “They later became joint alphas of the their pack. Do you think this could be the story of the alpha twins that we were looking for?”

Like scoring was the most normal thing in the world. “What the hell?” I muttered. Leah barked out a laugh. “He's so good, it's unreal” I folded my arms quickly, forcing my face to stay calm. “Erm… he’s okay,” I muttered, even though my chest was still buzzing from the goal. “You’re literally standing.” I immediately sat down. Leah snorted. The game continued. Then Knox scored again. And again. And somehow, despite knowing absolutely nothing about hockey, I found myself leaning forward every single time he touched the puck.

“I see you are reading a book.” “No, not really,” she muttered. “The book is just for show.” I sat down on the bed too and watched her closely. I took a deep breath before calling her name. She looked up, “What is it?” “I have been thinking…” I muttered. “How about you start playing hockey again?”

Three… Two… With a sound like a gunshot, the puck flies into the capitals net. The force is too much even for the goalie to stop it. Milliseconds later, the buzzer sounds. The audience explodes into rocks. Cheers. Phase of the freezer beside themselves with joy. I feel adrenaline pumping through my veins, almost as if I had been the one playing hockey. Aiden’s team skates toward him and pulls him into an aggressive group hug each cheering for him. The capital players watch with vitriol for a moment before skulking back to the locker room.

"I'll make it interesting." "Can you?" He looked genuinely curious. Not condescending curious. "Do you actually follow hockey or is this a you got assigned a hockey player and now you're figuring it out?" I considered lying. I considered citing the video I'd watched three times as research. "The second one," I said. He nodded slowly. "Okay. What do you know?" "Goals are good. Ruts in the ice are bad." "The rut thing again." "The rut thing is load bearing," I said.

“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.

Roman Thorne is the invincible team leader of college hockey. He is large, aggressive and a nightmare to the media. The press, however, does not know what makes the Briarwood Ice Devils so feared. They are not just players. They are ruthless, blood-swilling offspring of the most formidable crime business in the city. Trying to keep a small scandal which is about to blow up their small business, the Thorne family appeals to the service of Sloane Mercer. She is 24 years old and a brilliant ruthless PR fixer. Her task is easy: to improve the image of the team, to work with press, and not to put Roman in the prison. But Sloane has not come to save them. She is here to ruin them. Sloa

Ice Fire Puck drop boomed like a thunderclap. Alex exploded from the faceoff, deking the Oiler goalie with a filthy five-hole snipe, sending the arena into a frenzy. Edmonton countered rough—elbows late—but Alex absorbed and dished, assisting Brody for the second. Jake watched the stream, pulse thundering despite the rival city divide—their bond tauter than any contract.

I asked and he stepped in, dropping his laptop on the desk. I sighed before closing the door behind me and returning to the desk. He played a video and I could feel the hairs on my skin raising as I watched the video. It showed evidence and the list of the coaches and players who had been flagged as invalid and banned. I swallowed hard, looking towards Kelvin. He looked equally nervous as he spoke. "It might get to you." He said. I paused, running my hand through my hair as I paced the room. Everyone in that list that had been removed all had serious issues to their name, I had none but who knew whether those crimes were true or fabricated.

I told him things I hadn’t even told anyone and the way my body felt off, alive with a buzzing energy I couldn’t explain. He listened, nodding, his gaze soft. Then he said, almost shyly, “Can I tell you something? Something I’ve never told anyone?” I looked at him, curious. “What?” “I used to hate hockey,” he admitted with a laugh. “Crazy, right? Everyone thinks I was born with skates on, but when I was a kid, I wanted to quit. My dad wouldn’t let me. Said I’d thank him someday. I guess I did. But… I’ve never told anyone that. Not even the guys.”