Posted by Amanda

https://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/2025/12/fantasy-a-recommended-read-more/

https://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/?p=163813

Not Safe for Work

Not Safe for Work by Nisha J. Tuli is $2.99! This is a standalone contemporary romance with workplace rivals. I really like this cover too!

Two workplace enemies find themselves in close proximity on a tropical company retreat that challenges their assumptions—and just might make them to fall for each other—in this romcom by a beloved TikTok author.

Engineer Trishara Malik once dreamed of being the first woman of color to smash the glass ceiling at WMC Purcell, but after years of dealing with white male privilege and blatant nepotism, she watches her hard-earned promotion go to her nemesis, Rafe Gallagher—the boss’s son. Teetering on the edge of burnout, Tris is stunned when she’s picked to attend WMC’s corporate leadership retreat in Hawaii. It’s a chance to revive her stalled career and compete for a coveted spot in an executive training program—plus, three weeks in paradise! The only downside? Rafe is her co-attendee.

Tris plans to avoid Rafe entirely, but when she arrives in Maui, a booking error has them stuck sharing the honeymoon suite. Sure, it’s not all torture. Rafe is a smoldering ten—okay fine, an eleven—but after years of competition, they can barely stand being in the same time zone. As they vie against each other during aptitude tests and team-building exercises, Tris begins to realize Rafe might not be the villain after all. With her dreams at stake, can she learn to trust the man who might have been standing in her corner all along?

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You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

Loving You Always

Loving You Always by Kennedy Ryan is $1.99! This is book two in The Bennett Series. This was released in 2014, but I believe is having a resurgence from the publisher due to new cover designs.

Secrets emerge and romance sparks in this irresistible suburban romance from the USA Today bestselling author Kennedy Ryan.

The man she can never have . . .

Kerris Moreton should be the happiest woman in the world: She has a successful business and is about to start the family she’s always wanted. But the man of her dreams-the one whose green eyes see straight into her soul and whose gentle hands make her body hum with pleasure-is not hers.

Each secret moment with Walsh Bennett serves to remind Kerris of what she’s missing. And every stolen hour makes it harder to see her future without him. But being with Walsh would betray a sacred promise and upend her perfect life. When tragedy strikes, the razor’s edge between love and loyalty grows sharper than ever. And Kerris must decide where her heart will fall . . .

Don’t miss the first installment in The Bennett’s Series…When You Are Mine.

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You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

The Woman from the Waves

RECOMMENDED: The Woman from the Waves by Roslyn Sinclair is $3.99! Tara reviewed this one and gave it an A:

This is a book that got under my skin and left me flailing for a few days after I finished it. As much as I loved and believed in the romance, the character arcs and exploration of religious trauma stole the show for me.

Love and hunger are not the same.

Six years ago, on a remote Scottish island, a mysterious woman saved Sister Madeleine Laurent from drowning. Now, after leaving her convent, Madeleine crosses the ocean again to find the rescuer who changed her life. Instead, her search is disrupted by Hæra North, a brazen, provocative local who stirs Madeleine’s repressed desires—and keeps a secret out of legend.

Hæra has one dream: to become the first female Stormhorse, a powerful leader in her clan of fearsome ocean horse spirits. To do so, she must capture, drown, and eat a worthy human. When she first saw Madeleine, she knew she’d found the one. So why did Hæra save her instead?

Now Madeleine’s back. All Hæra has to do is remain in human form, earn her woman’s trust, then devour her.

But Madeleine is awakening another kind of appetite…

The Woman from the Waves is an epic sapphic romantasy about the power of unleashed desire, the courage it takes to change, and a love so vast it spans the sea, earth, and sky.

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You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

Kings of the Wyld

RECOMMENDED: Kings of the Wyld by Nicholas Eames is $2.99! Queen Beverly Jenkins recommended this one on a previous podcast:

The book is amazing! It’s laugh-out-loud funny in some parts. The writing is wonderful.

Clay Cooper and his band were once the best of the best — the meanest, dirtiest, most feared crew of mercenaries this side of the Heartwyld.

Their glory days long past, the mercs have grown apart and grown old, fat, drunk – or a combination of the three. Then an ex-bandmate turns up at Clay’s door with a plea for help. His daughter Rose is trapped in a city besieged by an enemy one hundred thousand strong and hungry for blood. Rescuing Rose is the kind of mission that only the very brave or the very stupid would sign up for.

It’s time to get the band back together for one last tour across the Wyld.

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You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

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https://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/?p=163813

Posted by Candy

https://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/2025/12/heated-rivalry-the-unbearable-lightness-of-having-a-dump-truck-ass/

https://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/?p=163632

So right now I have a number of non-romance community friends coming up to me and saying stuff like:

“Oh hey sounds like some hockey fic finally made it onto TV, huh?”

“Yo Candy have you heard of the gay hockey romance TV show?”

“How excited are you about the gay hockey smut on TV?”

“Candy why is your entire Tumblr dashboard filled with naked asses?”

To which I say: excuse me, these are not just “naked asses.”

These are triple-platinum certified, AAA grade dumptrucks. Can dumptruck butts even be certified platinum, Sisqo hit notwithstanding?

Fuck you, they can now. These asses can do anything. These asses can fly you to the fucking moon. These asses were sculpted by the hand of God, after which God cut their own hand off because it had achieved perfection, so why sculpt anything else ever. Connor Storrie’s ass in particular is a mesmerizingly perfect hemisphere. He could never sneak into an enemy base because he is dummy thicc and the thunderclap of those asscheeks would absolutely alert the guards for miles around. Do you understand what I’m saying?

A | BN | K | AB

It’s because they inhabit their characters to a degree that is frankly eerie.

Like: the way Connor Storrie holds his body as Ilya Rozanov in every scene. Man doesn’t stand like an American, though he very much is. (Storrie is a Texan. A Texan.) And what does “doesn’t stand like an American” even mean? Look, I can’t fuckin’ explain it, OK, but white American dudes tend to hold themselves A Way, and he doesn’t do it. It’s like porn (which this show delivers on, by the way). I just know it when I see it.

That’s not even going into Storrie’s near-impeccable Russian (which he apparently acquired over three weeks), or the things he’s able to do with his eyes, or the curl of an upper lip, or a flick of his eyebrow.

And then there’s Hudson Williams as Shane Hollander. Shane, the lawful good muppet to Ilya’s chaos gremlin freak. Williams nails every microexpression, especially in the scenes in which he’s texting Ilya: vulnerability, frustration, reluctant amusement, endearment—they all flicker across his face. He’s stiff and awkward, which you might initially mistake for bad acting, except no, that’s Shane: Shane is an awkward motherfucker! Shane Hollander has zero grace until you strap skates on him, or until he’s confronted by Ilya Rozanov’s dick.

Sure, sure, my friends say. Watch it for the acting. That’s what you say. That’s not what you’re reblogging on Tumblr, you thirsty bitch.

I mean, yeah. I’m mostly posting gifsets of dumptruck butts because I need everyone I know to watch this show, and while I honestly find this image of Ilya giving Shane the once-over when they first meet theee actual hottest thing, who the fuck cares about that who hasn’t seen the show already?

That’s not going to grab people’s attention. Oh, look at this attractive white dude giving someone the ole bedroom eyes. Boh-ring. NEXT.

Ilya Rozanov, naked and glistening with water, jorkin’ it in the locker room showers while maintaining hideously uncomfortable eye contact with Shane? That’s an attention-grabber. And I’ve sold three different people into watching this show because of it.

So anyway, I’ve had to talk to several friends about this show, and about why I, a person who has worked hard all their life to achieve the perfect body (potato-shaped) care about sports romance, and I’ve come up with this Heated Rivalry explainer of sorts. Maybe you’ll find this helpful as you navigate conversations with other people in your life who are like, hey, I hear you like smut! What do you think of that smutty hockey show? Or, like, if you haven’t checked out either the book or the show, and somehow have avoided learning anything about either of them, maybe this will finally push you over the edge? In fact, I hope it does. Consider this me kicking you down a well lined with bare chests and fake team logos of dubious quality and screaming This! Is! Heated Rivalry!

What the hell is Heated Rivalry?

It’s not a fic, it’s a hockey romance novel by Rachel Reid. The two main characters are Ilya Rozanov, Russian hockey wunderkind, and Shane Hollander, Canadian hockey wunderkind. (And yeah, Shane bears a physical resemblance to Sid Crosby, and Ilya being Russian and playing for a rival team immediately raises the spectre of Alexander Ovechkin, but as far as I know, this isn’t scrubbed Sid/Ovi fic, even if, uh, the inspiration seems pretty clear.)

Shane and Ilya meet rookie year, find each other infuriating yet irresistible, rapidly hook up, and then continue to hook up over many, many years, only to slowly, excruciatingly, fall in love. It’s somehow both slow-burn and bangs immediately. You know U-Haul lesbians? These guys are the exact opposite. (Move-away gays? I’ll have to workshop that more.)

Anyway. The book is mostly sex scenes by volume, and not a single one is repetitive or wasted, because it’s how the character and relationship development happen.

It’s now a TV show, adapted by Jacob Tierney. That’s the same guy who brought you Letterkenny and Shoresy, neither of which I’ve watched, but which I’ve been aware of for years now because people whose tastes I trust have watched them and loved them and told me I should watch them. Sorry, guys, it took the power of gay hockey idiots to drag me into the Tierney-verse. I’m here now, and I love it!

The thing you need to know about this show is: it leans in. It fully commits to the bit. Look, I know I keep talking about how this show is worth watching above and beyond the sex and the beefcake, but the fact of the matter is, you can’t extricate the show from the sex and the beefcake, because it’s a show. About hockey players. Who fall in love because they fuck. A lot. Over many years. So yes, I’m going to talk about the sex.

Anyway, yeah. The sex scenes. They skirt just shy of pornography, but oh my god they’re hot and beautifully shot, and while they show you neither hole nor hog, they do so so much with facial expression, and bodies in motion, and, crucially, soundscape. You don’t just hear people moaning. You hear them kissing. You hear the very distinct wet, rhythmic sounds of a mouth sucking on dick. You hear skin slapping against skin. When Ilya swallows a load, he makes a horny little humming noise.

These sounds, more than anything, make the sex scenes feel earthy and real. How many sex scenes have you watched in which the soundtrack takes over just as the action heats up? You hear some kissing noises maybe, and some panting, and then as soon as Boning is Imminent, the violins or synths soar and drown almost anything else out; there might be some tactically deployed ah’s and ooh’s, timed to sync with the music, but nothing else to tie the writhing actors to the tactile reality of sex.

That doesn’t happen here. Don’t get me wrong, there’s absolutely background music. But that takes a back seat to the sounds of two men having wet, messy, frantic, mind-blowing sex. And that’s honestly amazing and radical, because we don’t get a whole lot of movie or TV depictions of queer sex that end well for the people involved. Jacob Tierney put it best in an interview with Evan Ross Katz:

These are people learning about each other and their relationship by fucking. That’s how they’re understanding each other. It’s how they play out their dynamics. It’s the only time, especially in the first two episodes, that they’re not lying to each other, that they’re not doing boisterous dumb boy stuff and being like, “Fuck you, fuck you.” This is when they get vulnerable with each other. This is when they get real. And then the other thing that was important to me is that like… why shouldn’t we get some horny good sex for gay people on TV? Like sex that we know is not going to end in misery or AIDS or punishment. We often get punished for getting sex as characters in queer storylines. So I think you’re weirdly in a safe, nurturing space to watch people fuck.

So yeah, this story is about sex—gay sex, specifically, by people who fall in love, stay in love, and make it work—and I’m super thrilled about all that, ackshually.

But underlying all that glorious sex are two main conflicts that animate the plot, such as it is:

First of all: Shane and Ilya are people who talk past each other for years—at first because they’re not really interested in talking to each other because they’re both hyper-competitive buttholes, but after a while, because they simply lack the context and means of understanding each other. Their cultural gulf is immense. There’s a scene in episode 2 in which Shane tries to make some post-nut small talk with Ilya about his annual summer visit to Russia, and things skate perilously close to the personal. Shane asks Ilya whether he likes it there; Ilya doesn’t even know how to process that question, because that’s not the fucking point—that’s never the point about going home. The quiet bafflement that ensues is excruciating; these guys just don’t know how to express some deeply important things to each other. Not yet.

Secondly, and perhaps most importantly: the homophobia that’s the background radiation of professional men’s team sports played at the very highest levels are warping the two of them and their burgeoning love. (This reality—not just for these fictional hockey boys, but for real-life hockey boys, and football, basketball, and baseball boys—feels even more painful now than it did when I first read the book in 2020 and it sure makes me feel some kind of way!). Shane and Ilya are both keeping a secret which, if exposed, has immense implications for their career, their friendships, and possibly their personal safety, and the story makes you feel it by taking the bone-deep fear as a given from the very beginning.

They can’t be out. They must always be each other’s dirty little secret. And that’s the real killer, isn’t it? The first problem is personal: something they can work out with communication, empathy, and commitment. Maybe some therapy, too.

The second problem, though? That’s systemic, baby. No amount of therapy is going to conquer an entire society’s worth of homophobia. It is an issue that has ruined careers and ended lives.

And, okay, fine, the fact that they’re playing for rival teams is also a big deal. Kind of a conflict of interest. Oops? But, look, the lesbians have—as always—shown us the way: not once, but twice, a hockey player from Team America has married a hockey player from Team Canada. If the lesbians can do it, boys, so can you. I believe in you!

All of which to say: this story looks like a pretty standard enemies-to-lovers or rivals-to-lovers setup, but scratch the surface and you’ll see that it’s actually about trying to fight for enough space to let your love breathe, and then carve out even more space so the love can grow. If you’ve watched episode three, that particular story makes it even more clear that this is the thesis of the show. It’s beating heart.

Read the book. Watch the show. The show, in particular, is exceptionally well-made, which is high praise coming from me, a legendary hater of romance novel adaptations — I’ll spare you my opinions on Bridgerton and the Red, White & Royal Blue movie.

Watch what Storrie and Williams do with their faces and their postures.

Pay attention to how the camera frames shots and lingers for exactly the right amount of time to convey desire and longing.

Delight in the jokes, and in the moments when these two hockey boys act like the adorable idiots they are.

And yeah, this is important, too: revel in some of the best gay sex scenes to ever grace your TV screen.

We’ve had enough queer tears. Let’s have some queer orgasms.

Big massive thanks to Candy for this banger (lol). You can stream Heated Rivalry on HBO Max and on Crave.

https://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/2025/12/heated-rivalry-the-unbearable-lightness-of-having-a-dump-truck-ass/

https://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/?p=163632