“Kennedy Ryan’s writing continues to amaze and inspire. She is a genius wordsmith and a prose poet. And in Banner Morales, she has created the perfect heroine for this day and age. Don’t miss this read. It’s everything.” — Emma Scott, Bestselling Author
Block Shot, Kennedy Ryan’s enemies-to-lovers, second-chance standalone romance is LIVE and FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
If I had a dollar for every time Banner Morales made my heart skip a beat…
The heart everyone assumes is frozen over.
Her anger is…arousing.
Every glare from those fire-spitting eyes, every time she grits her teeth,
gets me…well, you know.
If I had a dollar for every time she’s put me in my place, I’d be an even richer man.
I’m a successful sports agent because I assume “no” means you’ll think about it.
I’m sure what you meant to say is “Coming right up.”
They say even rich men don’t always get what they want,
but those men don’t know how to play the game. The trick is to keep them guessing.
Take Banner. She assumes she’s winning, but this game?
She doesn’t even know how to play.
If I had a dollar for every time Jared Foster broke my heart, I’d have exactly one dollar.
One night. One epic fail. One dollar…and I’m out.
I’ve moved on.
I’ve found success in a field ruled by men.
Anything they can do, I have done better.
They can keep the field while I call the shots, blocking them when I have to.
And Jared has the nerve to think he gets a second chance?
Boy, please. Go sit down. Have several seats.
I’ll just be over here ignoring the man carved from my fantasies with a lust-tipped chisel.
Oh, I didn’t say the struggle wasn’t real.
But I’ve got that one dollar, and Jared won’t have me.
Ok, deep breath. Every single Kennedy Ryan book that I have ever read always makes me cry and makes me emotional. Kennedy has a way of writing stories that make you connect with the characters on such a different level. It’s inspirational and beautiful. She also has a way fo writing some incredibly strong, brilliant heroines that become my favorite part of her stories. Block Shot was both no different and so so much more. I thought that no book could ever beat out Grip and Bristol’s story, but I was very wrong because Block Shot did.
This was more than a second chance romance. It was more than an enemies to lovers romance. It was uniquely Banner and Jared’s romance. This story was very well written and made me feel every single emotion that the characters felt. I felt like I was living the story with them. This book hit some of my hard limits and pushed me out of my comfort zone a little, but it was all in the best way. I realized there are always exceptions to the rule and this one was one of them for me. The plot was phenomenal with all of the sports talk and the journey that each of the characters had to take both together and separately. It had a flow and an order that made absolute sense to get where Kennedy left us. It was beautiful, heartbreaking, and so very pure.
However, for me, it was the characters that pushed this story into the stratosphere. I am going to talk about Jared first because talking about Banner is going to make me cry. The entire book I kept thinking about how I wish to find my own Jared one of these days. Yes, he is ruthless, possessive, and selfish to the entire world, but not to those closest to him, especially Banner. Jared shows his whole self to her and gives no fucks what the world thinks. His pursuit of her is relentless and so damn sweet and so damn Jared. What I love most about this incredible man is that he takes Banner as she is. He sees her brilliant mind and her compassionate warmth, not the outside packaging that the world finds lacking.
Banner. Banner is who made this story for me. As a woman who has always struggled with her weight and body image, I connected with Banner in a way I have never connected with another character. I felt like I was reading some of my own thoughts and feelings that I have had while inside Banner’s head. The cruel words people say that stick in your head when they have no right to be there. Banner was such an inspirational character for me and her growth throughout this book was a comfort for me. She took back her life and she grew to love herself and her body. Yes, the barbs still hurt, but she was strong enough to not let them get to her. And when they did, she had one incredible man to lean on. Thank you for giving us Banner, Kennedy.
I can’t recommend a book or author more highly than this one. I promise you won’t regret it.
Overall Rating: 5+ Stars
I don’t think there is another writer out there in the realm of romance that writes books as epically as Kennedy Ryan. There is just something so distinct and amazing about her words and her characters. It’s why I keep coming back for more. It’s why I want to read every word she’s ever written. It’s why, despite the very serious topics, and hard to read scenes, that I’ve loved every one of her books I’ve had the pleasure of reading. Block Shot was no different.
Block Shot is the story of Jared and Banner. These two went to college together, and had developed a strong and wonderful friendship. However, one night things go very awry and rather than friends, they leave college as enemies. But like Charli said, this story goes well beyond a second chance romance or an enemies to lovers trope. This story is a lesson in kindness, and the power of words, and how words really are weapons. You know that old saying “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me?” Yeah, it’s wrong. So very, very wrong. And in Block Shot, Kennedy Ryan shows us exactly why it is.
For me, Banner was probably one of the most relatable characters I have ever read in a romance novel. She’s had some of the same struggles that I’ve faced throughout my life, and it felt refreshing to understand first hand what she was up against. It was also refreshing to have an author recognize the types of struggles that Banner faced in her life. And it was done in such a powerful way, that I was brought to tears by the words on the page. It was all too much, but not enough at the same time.
In conclusion, the only thing I can say about Block Shot is to not let this one pass you by. If you haven’t read any other Kennedy Ryan book (why???), please read this one. I promise you will not be disappointed in it.
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I stretch my arm toward the wall and turn out the lights.
With the light snuffed out, my other senses rise, hunting for her in the dark. The smell of her hair and her quick, shallow breaths. My sight adjusts until the heavy black curtain completely obscuring her fades to gray. Light from the outer room spills under the door, revealing just the shape, the outline of her, but still camouflaging details. I cup her cheek, taking a moment to appreciate the softness of her skin, the silky hair brushing my knuckles. I’m not an idiot. She wants the lights out because she’s self-conscious, but from my perspective, she has nothing to be ashamed of.
“I think you’re beautiful, Ban.”
“You do?” she asks, her voice hushed.
My words surprise me as much as they seem to surprise her, because I don’t say shit like that to girls. The prettiest ones usually seem to already know, which makes any admiration I’d express redundant. But Banner . . . she’s so beautiful, and I’m not sure she knows.
“I do.” I push the hair away from her face.
“Uh . . . thank you.” Her laugh isn’t much more than a breath. “The lights are out, so I’m not sure that compliment counts.”
“I know your face by heart. You have seven freckles here.” I swipe a finger over the straight bridge of her nose and drift down to caress her full lips and the tiny dent in her cheek her smile displays. “And a dimple right here.”
I explore the smooth skin of her nape, under a heavy fall of hair.
“Now I want to know your body, too,” I say softly. “Take off your clothes for me, Banner.”
After a sharply indrawn breath, she raises her arms. The rustle of her clothes—the sweatshirt, jeans, socks, shoes—being discarded whisper in the dark. I approximate her by touch, reaching for her arms and closing my fingers around the softness, the velvety skin. I lower my head and run my nose along her neck, discovering.
“You always smell so good.” I’ve wanted to tell her that since the first night we studied here.
“Pretty Pastel,” she replies, her laugh low, nervous.
“What?” I pause.
“The smell. It’s my dryer sheets. The scent is Pretty Pastel.”
“I like it.” I resume my exploration, running a palm over her shoulder, her collarbone until I find the soft, full weight of her breasts, testing them in my hands, cupping them, holding them, brushing the nipples with my thumbs until they pebble and her breaths come harshly.
“You like that?” I ask.
I see her head nod in the semi-darkness. “Yeah. It feels good.”
Her touch startles me in the best way, her hand finding my face, traveling over my mouth, eyes, and hair. I sense her approach, feel tiny pants of breath on my lips, and anticipation has me panting, too, shortens my breath and sharpens my senses. Her mouth seeks mine, eager and sweet when she kisses me. Her pleasure, her excitement matches, answers, fans mine.
I guide her back down to the couch, and with a hand at her shoulder, urge her to stretch out. I’d shave points off my GPA for a glimpse of her, but she doesn’t want that. I get it, so I settle for a taste.
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A Top 30 Amazon Bestseller, Kennedy Ryan writes about women from all walks of life, empowering them and placing them firmly at the center of each story and in charge of their own destinies. Her heroes respect, cherish and lose their minds for the women who capture their hearts.
She is a wife to her lifetime lover and mother to an extraordinary son. She has always leveraged her journalism background to write for charity and non-profit organizations, but enjoys writing to raise Autism awareness most. A contributor for Modern Mom Magazine and Frolic, Kennedy’s writings have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul, USA Today and many others. The founder and executive director of a foundation serving Atlanta Autism families, she has appeared on Headline News, Montel Williams, NPR and other media outlets as an advocate for families living with autism.
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