Sometimes it's the fight that proves your worth.
Porter Prescott spent years fighting to be his own person.
His goal of playing for a hockey club not associated with the Prescott name finally comes true.
But just as he's leaving for the next chapter in his life, he meets her.
Asher Spence spent a lifetime learning she was worthless and unwanted.
She learned that sometimes the only person you can count on is youself, and even then, you can fail.
What starts out as picture perfect can only come crumbling down.
No one listened to her pleas before,
Why should they listen to them now that she's found a place to finally call home?
But sometimes, it's the fight that takes you out of the game.
This DUET can be read as a standalone from the Prescott Family series. However, please note that this is book one in a duet. Book two, Holding, will be releasing within three weeks of Altercation's release, concluding the duet.
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Mignon is a twenty-something (…getting awfully close to thirty-something) who resides in Wisconsin. An avid reader since her preschool days, she ‘blames’ her mother for teaching her to read during that all-important time during a forming brain. Some of her earlier memories of reading include her mother buying her a book at the mall — and finishing the book before they even returned home.
Writing happened soon after the reading started. Her first writing piece can be found in a box of other important papers from growing up. It’s about an apple who was her friend, but she had to eat.
The first series Mignon started to write was about a close family of one brother and his three younger sisters. She started writing this family and their friends in 2005, but as soon as the Prescott family took over her mind, the Ashbys fell silent. Maybe someday we’ll all hear from the Ashbys, but those Prescotts…. The Prescotts are excited to have their stories told.
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I didn’t see what happened, and even if I did, I wouldn’t have a clue what it meant.
All around me, fans were talking, laughing, shouting.
Goddamned zebra, didn’t you see…?
The announcement was made—hooking being the infraction. Again, I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but whatever it was had Porter cursing as he was led to the penalty box.
I watched on the Jumbotron as he angrily sat down, throwing his gloves and helmet to the side. He lifted his jersey to wipe at his face.
I found my eyes dropping to the box to watch in real time. What the Jumbotron failed to show in its angle was the bare expanse of Porter’s stomach.
I bit my bottom lip and forced my eyes back up on the Jumbotron, where they were replaying what had happened.
A whistle was blown again and now everyone was set up in front of the Rockets’ goal, only four Rockets on the ice and five of the visitors. The puck was dropped and suddenly there were six of the visitors.
I glanced over at their net to see that they had pulled their goalie.
My eyes went back to the clock.
There was a fight going on in front of the net as the visitors tried to put the puck in the net.
Even if they succeeded, what was the likelihood that they could get another goal in less than a handful of seconds?
Apparently, they were going to try.
With so much happening in front of the net, I had a hard time keeping an eye on the puck, but suddenly the red light was flashing.
Across the way, the penalty box was opened, and Porter skated out, still looking pissed as he put his gloves back on, his stick trapped between his arm and side, and his helmet on but not secured.
He looked a hot mess, and I found myself grinning.
Which, of course, he caught.
The pissed off look on his face quickly morphed into a cocky grin and a shake of his head.
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