Excerpt from Sure Shot by Sarina Bowen

I’ve already read Sure Shot by Sarina Bowen and I can’t wait to share my review in a few weeks! In the mean time enjoy this excerpt 💕


The driver looks over his shoulder, and then unleashes a torrent of fan-boy ramblings. “Holy fuck! I got Mark Tankiewicz in my cab! You play for Dallas, da?”

“Yessir. Recently.”

“You know my countrymen, Sergei and Igor Petrov?”

“Of course,” Tank says. “Good guys. I was taking care of Sergei’s dogs this summer. He keeps vodka in the freezer that will scramble your brain.”

The cab driver laughs uproariously and demands an autograph.

Tank agrees. He isn’t even looking at me, but his naughty hand slides slowly up my thigh and under my skirt. I hold my breath.

The cab pulls up to the hotel, and Tank’s hand vanishes as the bellhop opens the cab door. Tank pays the cabbie and autographs his newspaper. I’ve almost recovered my wits when Tank hops onto the curb beside me and tucks an arm around my waist. 

“Spasiba!” the cabbie calls. “Thank you!”

Tank doesn’t bother responding. He’s following the bellhop into the hotel lobby, tugging me along. He marches me toward the elevator, and the doors part as if he’s commanded them to.

“Well, you have one fan in Brooklyn,” I say, trying for nonchalance. 

“Only one?” he asks. Then he takes my face in his hands and gives me a smoldering look. 

I gaze back at him in wonder. I’d forgotten how it feels to have Tank’s undivided attention. The heat in his eyes gives me a high like no drink or drug ever will. I stare at him until he says, “The elevator is here, Bess. Get in.”

Jesus. My heart is racing. I have to get a grip. “Look…” I clear my throat as we step inside. The doors slide shut as he punches one of the buttons. “I’m sorry about the party. I’m sorry I implied that I didn’t remember you.”

“Oh I know you remember me.” He smirks. “That was never in doubt.”

Right. “Here’s something you don’t know, though. I remember something you said to me the first night I met you. And I never forgot it.”

“Was it, ‘Oh baby, don’t stop’?”

I’m trying to make a point. So I step forward, squaring my shoulders to his, and look directly into his eyes. “Shut up a second, would you? I’m trying to pay you a compliment.” 

His eyes widen. 

“That night we met at Sparks, I was new to the city and new at the agency. I read your file before dinner so I could memorize facts, but I didn’t know what the heck I was doing. I was terrified of screwing up. But you sat across the table from me with that fifty-dollar glass of wine in your hand, looking as comfortable as a king…” I can still picture the whole scene like it was yesterday. “And even though I knew you were just a rookie in a strange city, you didn’t show any fear. In fact, you told the whole table that your motto was: ‘What can I get away with?’”

His smile turns wicked. “That sounds like something I would say. Not that I remember saying it.”

“Well, I never forgot. And I’ve been saying it to myself on and off for the last nine years. When I don’t know what to do, or I don’t understand the rules, sometimes it just comes to me. ‘What can we get away with?’ So…” I clear my throat. “Thank you for that.”

His expression softens. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, feeling a little more rational. A little more like myself.  

But when the elevator doors open on the twentieth floor, and Tank waits for me to step out, I’m back to goosebumps and a fluttery tummy. At the end of the hallway, he pulls out a key card and swipes us into his room. Against my better judgment, I follow him inside. 


On the eve of her thirtieth birthday, successful sports agent Bess Beringer is ready to make some changes. Armed with a five-year plan—indexed and color coded—she’ll tackle a few goals in her personal life.

A big, tall, ripped hunk of hockey player who’s just been traded to the Brooklyn Bruisers is not a part of that five year plan. Mark “Tank” Tankiewicz has a lot of baggage. He’s a ride-or-die loner. He’s on the rebound. He’s also the sexiest thing on two legs, and for some crazy reason it’s Bess that he wants.

She knows better. But then she falls stupid in love with him anyway. And for a while it seems like maybe he’ll do the same.

Until she asks him for the one thing he can never give her…


All Links in one spot →  https://shor.by/SureShot 

Audio →  https://geni.us/SureShotAudio 

Amazon →  https://geni.us/SureShotAmazon 

Apple →  https://geni.us/SureShotApple 

Kobo →  https://geni.us/SureShotKobo 

Nook →  https://geni.us/SureShotNook 


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