All for Game Series by Nora Sakavic – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

All for Game Series by Nora Sakavic – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Mon, 10 Mar 2025 19:25:39 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png All for Game Series by Nora Sakavic – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 The Golden Raven (All for Game #5) Read Online Nora Sakavic http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-golden-raven-all-for-game-5-read-online-nora-sakavic Mon, 10 Mar 2025 19:25:39 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-golden-raven-all-for-game-5-read-online-nora-sakavic Genre: Contemporary, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Sports, Tear Jerker, Young Adult Authors: Nora Sakavic Series: All for Game Series by Nora Sakavic
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Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)

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I do not care what they think of me. I can’t. It only matters that I play.

Jeremy Knox is no stranger to damage control, but his last season on an Exy court is off to a disastrous start. The relentless crusade against his newest teammate threatens the haven he and his friends have worked so hard to build. He promised Jean a fun senior year, but tragedy and ugly truths make every step forward an uphill fight.

Jean Moreau promised the USC Trojans a championship trophy, and he intends to deliver. Granted, it would be significantly easier if they’d slide off their high horses and throw a few elbows on the court. Their steadfast refusal to do things his way is nearly as aggravating as their unwanted affection, but maybe they’re not the ones that need to change.

With so many ready to drag him down, how can he learn to fly?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Jean

Friday morning practice started with a brief team meeting. As each Trojan arrived, one of the coaches was on hand to redirect them to the huddle rooms. “Whichever one has seats” was the only directive they received, but for the most part the players segregated themselves by offense and defense out of habit.

Unsurprisingly, striker Ananya Deshmukh had eschewed the status quo to sit with Cody Winter and her fiancé Patrick Toppings, both of whom were backliners. Movement in the doorway had her looking up to check the newest arrivals, and her jaw dropped when she saw Jean Moreau’s battered face.

“Good lord,” she said, too loudly, and all eyes swung his way.

Catalina Alvarez briefly pressed a shoulder against his arm, but Jean didn’t care if they looked. He’d been a bruised and bloodied mess most of his career with the Ravens. His former teammates were quick to mock him and quicker to take advantage of his weakened state on the court, but they knew better than to ask questions. Most of them assumed his injuries were due to the master’s displeasure, especially since the perfect Court was called away daily for private sessions. Whether or not they truly believed it or simply refused to think critically of their beloved captain, Jean would never know.

“We left you alone for twelve hours,” Pat said. “Did you get hit by a car or something?”

A stupid question deserved a stupid answer, so Jean said, “Yes.”

“We’re going to talk about it, I’m sure,” Jeremy Knox said. He’d preceded Jean into the room, but now he was half-turned to study Jean’s distant expression. He said nothing else, but Jean saw the question in his searching look. Jean didn’t waste his breath responding but stepped toward him and sent one last glance around the room. Lucas Johnson and his friends were yet to make an appearance, but as far as Jean could tell the rest of the defense line was accounted for.

The room was arranged as five rows of five seats each, with a table at the front for Coach Jimenez to use as needed. Sophomores William Foster and Jesus Rivera were in the first row with the over-eager freshmen, though they were now all turned to unabashedly stare at Jean. Cody’s lot had claimed the second row, and fifth-year Shawn Anderson was in the fourth with Shane Reed. Those two had nothing to say yet, but their stares were heavy and unwavering. Jean’s injuries only benefited one of them, the man whose spot he planned on taking this season, so Jean didn’t waste his time returning their searching looks.

Jeremy led Jean and Cat down the third row so he could take a seat behind Ananya. Cat gave Cody’s shaved hair an affectionate scritch when she ended up behind them, but Cody was too busy staring at Jean to greet her. The three had just gotten settled when Laila Dermott arrived. She’d detoured by the lockers alone to put their lunch away, but now she took the chair on Cat’s other side and said, “Lucas is here.”

It was a split-second warning before Lucas finally stepped through the doorway, and the entire mood in the room shifted. Shane was on his feet immediately with an alarmed, “Jesus Christ, Lucas.”

The hours since Grayson’s visit had been unkind to them both: reddened skin and faint shadows had bloomed into technicolored bruises that covered too much of their faces. Both of Lucas’s eyes were blackened, courtesy of his broken nose, and Jean had long scratches down his face from cruel fingernails. Lucas hadn’t bothered to cover anything up, and Jean had only slowed long enough this morning to tape new gauze over the teeth marks left on his throat and wrist.

“This has to stop,” Shane said, looking between them. “You’re teammates, for god’s sake.”

“Shane,” Jeremy started, but Lucas beat him to the punch:

“We didn’t do this,” Lucas said as he led Travis Jordan and Haoyu Liu onto the fourth row. Because Shane and Shawn had gotten there first, it forced Lucas into the open seat behind Jean. Jean didn’t feel like turning far enough to keep an eye on him, so he folded his arms across his chest and faced the front of the room. Lucas stopped behind him but didn’t sit until he corrected himself with a quieter, “He didn’t. I did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shane asked. “Jeremy? Jean?”

Jeremy was still turned enough to see the door, so he just said, “Coach.”

Eduardo Jimenez entered the room with Jackie Lisinski only a few steps behind him. Since neither James Rhemann nor Michael White showed up, Jean assumed they were handling the other room. Lisinski’s face was a thundercloud, but Jimenez’s expression was harder to read. The defensive line coach did a quick headcount before slapping a folder against his palm.

“Good morning,” he said. “Couple quick announcements and then we’ll get you back on track. First things first: Lucas and Jean will be on no-touch jerseys until further notice and will not be participating in scrimmages today.”

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The Sunshine Court (All for Game #4) Read Online Nora Sakavic http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-sunshine-court-all-for-game-4-read-online-nora-sakavic Sat, 27 Apr 2024 17:49:15 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-sunshine-court-all-for-game-4-read-online-nora-sakavic Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance, Sports Authors: Nora Sakavic Series: All for Game Series by Nora Sakavic
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)

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My name is Jean Moreau. My place is at Evermore. I belong to the Moriyamas.

It is a truth Jean has built his life around, a reminder this is the best he can hope for and all he deserves. But when he is stolen from Edgar Allan University and sold to a more dangerous master, Jean is forced to contend with a life outside of the Nest for the first time in five years. The Foxes call his transfer to California a fresh start; Jean knows it is little more than a golden cage.

Captain Jeremy Knox is facing his final year with the USC Trojans and fifth straight year falling short of the championships trophy he desperately craves. Taking in the nation’s best defenseman is a no-brainer, even if that man is a Raven. But Jean is no monster, just a man with no hope or desire for a future, and when Evermore's collapse starts dragging Jean's hideous secrets to light, Jeremy is forced to contend with the cost of victory.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Jean

Jean Moreau came back to himself in pieces, dragging himself together as he had a thousand mornings before. The cloud in his thoughts was as unfamiliar as the heaviness in his limbs; Josiah generally stuck to ibuprofen when patching the team up, even when it was Riko he was cleaning up behind. For him to step it up meant Jean wasn’t going to like what he was waking up to.

Aside from the stinging ache along his scalp and up to his crown, his cheekbones and nose were a soupy mess of heat. Jean lifted a too-heavy hand from his side and gingerly felt out the lines of his face. Stitches and bandages were a familiar rough texture beneath his fingertips, and the blossoming ache under a bit of pressure confirmed his nose was broken again. The Ravens were going to use that to their advantage the next several weeks to keep him in his place. He’d have no choice but to protect himself against their high and brutal checks, pulling back when he should have been pushing forward.

His neck ached, but the skin there felt unbroken, and in his hazy delirium it took Jean too long to remember what had happened. The memory of Riko’s hands around his throat, squeezing tighter and longer than he ever had before, sent a shiver down his spine when it finally sharpened into focus. Jean had given into fear and forgotten himself, and he’d tried pulling Riko’s hands loose. Riko responded by pummeling his face with unrelenting fists. Knowing the master would beat Riko black and blue after championships for breaking the golden rule—not where the public can see—left Jean queasy. Riko was twice as vicious when he was hurting.

Jean slowly let his hand fall back to his side and struggled to open his eyes. It took a few tries, but what came into focus was an unfamiliar ceiling. Jean was sold to Castle Evermore five years ago; he knew every square inch of that stadium better than he knew his own body. This room was not in Evermore, not with such pale paint and wide windows. Someone had hooked a dark blue blanket over the curtain rod to darken the room a bit, but slivers of burnt orange sunlight still peeked through to stripe across the bed.

Hospital? A bolt of fear had him counting fingers and toes. His hands ached, but he could move them. The lack of broken fingers this time was marginally reassuring, but what had happened to his leg? His left knee screamed when he shifted, and his left ankle flared hot right after it. They were facing the Trojans in a few weeks for semifinals and championships, and this did not feel like something that would heal quickly.

Jean pushed himself up and regretted it immediately. The pain that lanced from his abdomen to his collarbone was so fierce he felt nauseous. Jean sucked in a slow breath through clenched teeth, feeling the way his entire chest twinged with the effort. The memory of Riko kicking him, over and over even as he tried to ball up and protect himself, put ice in his veins. It’d been years since Riko last fractured Jean’s ribs. It’d taken Jean off the court for eleven weeks—and Riko off for one, when the master was done with him. This couldn’t be that again, it couldn’t, but the first press of his hand to his side left him ill with agony.

He nearly bit the inside of his lip to bleeding as he forced himself to look around. The lack of any medical equipment refuted his hospital guess. This was someone’s bedroom, but that made no sense at all. The squat nightstand alongside the bed sported an alarm clock, lamp, and two mismatched coasters. A long dresser ran along the far wall with books and jewelry strewn across the top. Just past it was a laundry basket in dire need of emptying.

Then the only thing Jean saw, the only thing that mattered, was the woman sitting in a short chair at the foot of the bed. Renee Walker sat with socked feet propped on the footboard and her arms folded across her knees. Despite the relaxed line of her shoulders and the calm look on her face, her eyes were sharp as she watched him. Jean stared back, waiting for anything about this to make sense.

“Good evening,” she said at length. “How are you feeling?”

For a moment he was back in Evermore, watching the master tell Riko that Kengo had passed. The master would be taking a private jet to New York for funeral arrangements, and Riko was to keep an eye on the Ravens in his absence. Riko knew better than to argue about getting left behind, but he’d helplessly followed the master to the exit anyway. Jean had had twenty seconds of peace, and he’d wasted them texting Renee a heads-up. He’d known what was coming when Riko collected him and set off for Black Hall, but it wasn’t like he could refuse Riko’s orders.

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