Review: Pucked by Helena Hunting

Format: ebook, trade
Pub Date: 2015
Publisher: Self Published
Length: 382 pages
POV: 1st. PRESENT
FTC: Borrowed from a friend

If you've followed me on Twitter or read this blog at all, you'll know that I hate, LOATHE, despise first person, present tense. It's all over NA and YA and has been creeping into contemporary romance and I. Hate. It. But after nonstop urging from a friend who knows my sense of humor, I gave this hockey book a try. And for some strange reason, the 1st person present tense did not make me want to gouge my eyeballs out. It's a first.

I think what makes this tense combo work is the sheer outrageousness of Hunting's book. It is CRUDE. Like, in your face, no holds-barred, I-can't-believe-she-wrote-that crude. And funny. So, so funny.  The book starts with Violet masturbating. There are beaver jokes. And beaver clip art. I started this on the plane ride back from RT, with my ereader angled away from fellow passengers, because ... it's pretty explicit.


This is from the very beginning:

"I’m right there, teetering on the brink of heaven. Every nerve ending is on fire in
the best way possible. My muscles are tight, fingers moving at a furious pace, the
vibrator—God bless the damn vibrator—is hitting the s-s-s-spot, and everything is
about to go blissfully white.

And that’s the moment my mother’s shrill voice breaks all orgasmic magic, destroying
my morning jill-off. She must have let herself in again, as is typical,"

I guess this could be New Adult, since the main characters are a little on the young side, but I'm placing it in contemporary romance. New Adult is often about self discovery, whereas these characters are already in their careers.

Violet is someone with zero filter. Zero. And a messed up sense of humor. You spend most of the book rereading her dialogue because it's so hilarious.

This is Violet discussing her first encounter with Alex:

"I sigh. “Fine. He has a monster cock.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Charlene sputters.
“It’s a monster.”
Her nose scrunches in disgust. “You mean it’s deformed?”
“No. I mean it’s huge.”
“How huge?”
“Unnaturally huge.”
“Like a porno dick?”
“Exactly.”

It probably surprises no one, but I'm not much of a sports fan, either. But the friend who lent me the book IS a hockey fan, so I'm assuming there are no major goofs with that aspect of the book.

Now, at times, I wished the outrageousness faded back a bit to let in more emotion. There were scenes that I suspect were supposed to be sad, but they just didn't resonate for me.  I'm still anti-1st/present, but this is one book that I feel needs that immediacy. Hunting does a good job with it. If you're anti-present tense like I am, try a sample. See if it works for you.

The Blurb:

With a famous NHL player for a stepbrother, Violet Hall is well acquainted with the playboy reputation of many a hockey star. So of course she isn’t interested in legendary team captain Alex Waters or his pretty, beat-up face and rock-hard six-pack abs. When Alex inadvertently obliterates Violet’s misapprehension regarding the inferior intellect of hockey players, he becomes much more than just a hot body with the face to match.

Suffering from a complete lapse in judgment, Violet discovers just how good Alex is with the hockey stick in his pants. Violet believes her night of orgasmic magic with Alex is just that: one night. But Alex starts to call. And text. And email and send extravagant—and quirky—gifts. Suddenly, he's too difficult to ignore, and nearly impossible not to like.

The problem is, the media portrays Alex as a total player, and Violet doesn’t want to be part of the game.

My Grade: A-