I’m a huge L.A. Witt fan and I was so excited to read this book! It’s part of the Vino & Veritas series but can easily be read as a standalone story. I’ve enjoyed all of the books I’ve read so far in this series but this one is really special.

Brent suffered a life altering injury that ended his pro hockey career and nearly his life. He’s struggling to get to his new normal, part of which means living with chronic pain that will never completely go away. Jon is a newly divorced, single father also trying to come to terms with a new normal. Both of these guys have a lot of baggage that has greatly impacted their self-confidence and how they deal with their budding relationship.

I absolutely loved Jon, everyone should have a partner who is as understanding and caring as he is with Brent. Brent found out that there is an unforeseen consequence to his injuries but Jon is wonderful in dealing with it. L.A. Witt has tackled a subject that I’ve never read in a romance book before and I think she handled it with great care. You’ll have to read the book for yourself to find out what it is.

I loved the dogs in the story. I’ve been without a dog for nearly two years for the first time in my 60+ years and the dogs in this book made me want to visit the nearest animal shelter and adopt one stat. Shelter dogs make the best pets. ❤

I think every story usually has that one character who’s an a$$hole and Brent’s father is the one in this book. I’m sure it happens more than I’d want to think about, but I just don’t understand how any parent can act the way he did towards Brent. I wasn’t too thrilled with his mother either; I don’t think she stood up for Brent nearly as much as she should have. (This isn’t a criticism of the story, just the character’s behavior.)

I really loved this book.

Reviews for L.A. Witt

♥ Amazon US ♥ Amazon CA ♥ Amazon UK ♥

If there was one thing I was good at when I performed onstage, it was engaging my audience without being distracted by them. The lighting here at Vino and Veritas didn’t mask the crowd in shadows like bigger venues did—no blinding stage lights in my eyes obscuring the people beyond them—which meant I could make out a lot of faces. And there was usually a fair amount of activity, too. People came and went. Waiters brought out drinks and food. Bartenders poured drinks. Quiet conversations went on. Some loud ones, especially as more alcohol flowed.

I was used to it, and I was never distracted by it. The sea of motion and faces was easy to ignore.

Except for that guy’s face.

One glance at him, and thank God I’d been between songs, or I’d have forgotten what I was doing.

And it didn’t help at all that he’d been looking right back at me as if I’d caught his eye the way he’d caught mine. Not just like people casually watched a performer onstage, but like something I’d done had made him stop dead and stare. He was still, his eyes wide and his lips parted as he stared at me. I couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the lights, but I swore he blushed too.

As I played on, I kept my gaze down, or at least tried to only let it drift toward the side of the room where he wasn’t sitting. Otherwise I was going to go blank on every note and every lyric.

But then I was far enough into the music that I forgot, and I glanced in that direction again, and there he was, still looking right at me, and—

What song is this?

I only missed a beat or two, fortunately, and I recovered quickly. I doubted many people noticed, if any of them did. In a venue like this, a lot of people were only half-listening, as opposed to during an actual concert when they were all focused on me. I was background noise for most, even those who applauded between songs. Just as well when I was this distracted.

By some miracle, I made it through my set, and people didn’t mutter things like, “Oh my God, finally,” or “One more and I was going to stab my own eardrums” as I left the stage. Given that this hadn’t been my best or most focused performance, I’d take it.

In the back room where overflow books and promo items from the bookstore were kept, I put my guitar in its case and downed the rest of my water bottle. That had been, hands down, the hardest set I’d done since I’d started singing here. The first few had been tough because the emotions had been a lot more raw—because I’d been real smart, singing what I’d just written about my painful divorce-in-progress—so it had been rough for a while. But even during that period, I’d never actually struggled like I had tonight to remember lyrics and chords, or to keep my fingers from slipping or my tongue from getting tied.

And now I needed a drink. Not just water this time, either.

Vino and Veritas Series

♥ Amazon US ♥ Amazon CA ♥ Amazon UK ♥