**New Release & Review** I Pucking Love You (Copper Valley Thrusters #5) by Pippa Grant

 
 
 
Title: I Pucking Love You
Series: Copper Valley Thrusters #5
Author: Pippa Grant
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: April 8, 2021
 

 

BLURB

 

You know those stories where an adorably misunderstood clumsy girl needs a fake date to a wedding so she asks her brother’s best friend and they accidentally fall in love?

 

 
I wish that was the kind of life I lead, but it’s not.
 
I don’t need a date to a wedding. I need a date to a funeral.
Clumsy sometimes fits, but then, that’s true for all of us, right? But adorable? No. Misunderstood? Nope again. I’m just your average girl, standing in front of a funeral invitation, asking it to be a winning lottery ticket instead.
 
And I don’t have a brother, or a best friend with a brother available, which means I’m stuck with Tyler Jaeger.
 
Sure, he’s a professional hockey player who also knows advanced calculus, but let’s say we’re not compatible and leave it at that. I should know. I am a matchmaker.
 
Not a very good one, but that’s beside the point.
 
I know a mismatch when I see one.
 
Still, Tyler’s what I’ve got, and I am not going to this funeral solo, so he’s what I’ll take.
 
After all—what could go wrong at a funeral?
 

 

I Pucking Love You is a hilariously wrong romantic comedy about the world’s worst matchmaker, a hockey player with a problem he doesn’t want to talk about, and an awkward date-of-convenience that everyone would prefer to forget. It comes complete with a cat working his way through his nine lives, all the sexy times, fish and chips, and a swoony happily-ever-after.

 

 

 

 
 
 

 

 
 
PURCHASE LINKS
 
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
 
Free in Kindle Unlimited
 
 
131384520_893496754789638_8492834268917831318_n
 
Review by Nancy
 
This was my first book by Pippa Grant and I was freaking cracking up the entire time! My family thinks I’m a loon – whatever. A fake date to a funeral is a bizarre premise, but it TOTALLY works. This book may have had me in stitches, but it really made both Tyler and Muffy expose their heart issues, their vulnurablity to one another. Muffy is nerdy and has so much empathy for others. She’s holding onto hurt, though. Tyler has some… ahem, physical issues, but maybe Muffy holds the key to that. You’ll have to read it to find out. I Pucking Love You was fabulous in so many ways! Grant really knows her way around witty dialogue. I can’t wait to read more by her.
5 billion stars!
 
 
 

 

 
EXCERPT

 

Tyler

 

 
We all have to be at practice tomorrow morning—check that, this morning, as it’s shortly after midnight—but I don’t want to go home.
 
I don’t want to drink. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to screw.
 
I want—
 

 

Dammit.

 

 
I want a bucket of greasy fried fish and chips, because it’s what my big brother used to take me to get every time he came home on leave from the Marines and got annoyed at being hen-pecked by the four sisters between us.
 
My car’s cold, thanks to the early November weather, and no, I’m not telling you what kind of car I drive, because yes, it very much feels like compensation tonight.
 
It gets me where I want to go.
 
That’s all that matters.
 
That, and getting my ass to Cod Pieces before they close for the night.
 
Could I stay at the bunny bar and get fried fish and chips?
 
Yes.
 
Will I?
 
No fucking way.
 
I’m still stewing in my own misery when the bright neon sign with the armored cod and the storefront that looks like a medieval castle comes into view at the edge of a strip mall four miles the wrong direction from my downtown condo. I roll the window down, letting in a blast of chilly air and the scent of fries.
 
Just in time.
 
I holler my order over the sound of my engine, then pull around to the window to get my fish.
 
Debate calling my brother in Miami.
 
It’s one AM. He and his wife recently celebrated their kid’s first birthday, and I think they’re working on baby number two.
 
If I call him in the middle of the night to bitch about how I can’t get it up, he’ll probably hang up on me, then tell our sisters.
 
And Mom.
 
She’s a professional comedienne with her own popular Netflix special. There’s no damn way I’m bothering West in the middle of the night for this.
 
I’ll talk to the fried fish and call it even.
 
Has as much personality as West had before he married Daisy.
 
The window swings open. “That’ll be fourteen seventy-three, please.”
 
My car lurches forward before I remember to put it in park, and I gape up at the woman staring down at me. “Muffy?
 
My brain is playing tricks on me.
 
It has to be.
 
Because there’s no way the curvy, clumsy, smart-mouthed goddess who’s haunting my dick is standing there wearing a Cod Pieces polo and hat.
 
But she is.
 
And I swear to god, her long brown braids are recoiling in horror as her whole face twists, her lip curling, her left eye squeezing shut, before she snaps herself together. “For the hundredth time today, I have no idea who this Muffy person is. My name is Octavia Louisa Beaverhousen.”
 
Fuck me.
 
There are two of them? She looks exactly like Muffy. I’m not seeing things, and I’m not projecting just because I want my dick to work again and the bunnies made me think about screwing Muffy in the walk-in fridge at the bunny bar.
 
“Fourteen seventy-three, please.” She turns away as she holds out a hand, twitching her fingers like she’s waiting for cash or a card.
 
And that’s when I see the tattoo.
 

 

Rufus.

 

Her cat’s name. It’s on her wrist.
 
Octavia Louisa Beaverhousen, my ass. This is Muffy.

 

 
 
 

 

 
 
ALSO AVAILABLE
 
 
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
 
Free in Kindle Unlimited
 
ALSO AVAILABLE
 
 
 
 
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
 
Free in Kindle Unlimited
 
ALSO AVAILABLE
 
 
 
 
AMAZON 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s