Narrated by Kirt Graves

Although Goalie Interference is the second book in Avon Gale and Piper Vaughn’s Hat Trick series featuring the Atlanta Venom ice-hockey team, it can be listened to as a standalone without any problem. (The first book, Off the Ice is enjoyable (probably my favourite of the two) and well-narrated by Kirt Graves, so if you like the sound of this, chances are you’ll like that one as well!) Goalie Interference is an enemies-to-lovers story with a difference, in that both leads play for the Venom rather than opposing teams, so the dynamic is perhaps a little different, too. I enjoyed the story overall, although I did find myself asking questions about certain aspects of it (more later) and found the ending a little flat, but I’ll definitely be picking up the next book when it comes out.

After a few seasons as the Venom’s back-up
goalie, Ryu Mori expects – quite reasonably – that after the team’s starting
goalie is traded to another team, he will automatically step into that slot. He’s
dedicated, works hard, knows his team and is a damn good goalie – so when he
learns that he’s going to be sharing goal-keeping duties with rookie Emmitt
Armstrong, Ryu is not exactly overjoyed.

Emmitt has been playing in the AHL and is
ecstatic to learn he’s been snapped up by a major league team, even though he,
too, expects that he’ll be the back-up. He’s as surprised as Ryu to learn that
isn’t the case and that the two of them will be playing in tandem throughout
the season (starting alternate games), and is determined to show everyone – the
coaches, the team and, most of all, the very reserved and clearly disapproving
Ryu – just what he’s capable of, and that he deserves to be the team’s starter
in goal every bit as much as the other man.

Emmitt and Ryu are chalk and cheese
personality-wise. Ryu is quiet, reserved and intense, with a very dry sense of
humour, and while he gets on with his team-mates, he has only one close friend
among them, Tristan Holt (whose story is told in Off the Ice), who is also the only person on the team to know that
Ryu is gay. Emmitt, on the other hand, is garrulous, outgoing and makes no
secret of his bisexuality.

As we in romancelandia know only too well,
opposites attract, and once Ryu and Emmitt realise that they’re going to be
working together rather than competing for the starting spot, they start to develop
an (initially reluctant) admiration and respect for each other. Along the way,
they also discover that they have certain similarities in their backgrounds,
both being the children of professional athletes – Emmitt’s father played in
the NFL, Ryu’s was an Olympic figure-skater – and both struggling with the
weight of incredibly high parental expectations, which makes them able to
understand each other’s experiences in a way few others can. They also acknowledge
that their rivalry on the ice hasn’t prevented a strong mutual attraction from
sparking between them, and after a particularly steamy post-practice shower
leaves them both craving more, agree to embark on a casual, no strings attached
sexual relationship.

We all know how that’s going to go ;) Ryu
and Emmitt can’t keep their hands off each other, although a lot of the time we
have to take that as read because most of their sexual encounters take place
off the page and we’re told about them afterwards or as they’re riling each
other up by talking about what they’re planning to do to one another once
they’re alone. That’s all well and good, but when done properly, sex scenes
contribute to a growing sense of intimacy and trust between the characters
involved, and something of that was missing here.

The main conflict in the story comes fairly
late on, when the Venom proceeds to the playoffs and Ryu and Emmitt are put
back into competition with each other. I can’t say much more without spoilers,
but by this time, the nature of their relationship has changed, and this new rivalry
has some serious impact on them as a couple.

As I said at the start, I enjoyed the story
although I do have a number of reservations. For instance, I couldn’t work out
how Tristan – who is a major secondary character here – could be out to his team,
be seen around the locality with his boyfriend – a college professor – but not
have been outed to the wider world by a careless word or intrusive paparazzi.
When Emmitt and another player then come out as bisexual, nobody on the team
batts an eyelid. On the one hand, it’s great that it’s a non-issue for them. On
the other – and here I have to point out that I’m not a sports fan and my
knowledge of ice hockey has been gained solely from reading/listening to
romance novels! – I do know that professional sport is extremely homophobic and
so I felt it was odd that the entire team were so accepting. Similarly odd was
the fact that both leads being PoC – Ryu is Japanese-American, Emmitt is Black
– in what is almost an entirely white sport was another non-issue. The authors
acknowledge the lack of diversity in the sport and talk a little about the
prejudice Ryu and Emmitt faced while they were making their way up through the
ranks, and have them taking part in an outreach program to encourage more young
people of colour to take up the sport. But otherwise, their ethnicities are
little more than glossed over background detail. And although the story
finishes on a strong HFN, it felt rushed and strangely inconclusive, because
while Emmitt and Ryu are together, their relationship is still a secret from
pretty much everyone except Tristan and Sebastian, and Emmitt’s mother.

I’ve enjoyed listening to Kirt Graves a few
times, and seeing his name listed as the narrator for this series is what made
me decide to pick up this title for review. He’s an experienced performer who
imbues his narrations with an appropriate degree of emotion and expression, and
although he doesn’t have an especially wide range in terms of pitch, he
differentiates effectively between characters by means of a variety of timbre
and accent. Ryu and Emmitt are easily distinguishable from each other and the
rest of the cast; Mr. Graves does a great job with Ryu especially, applying a
slightly clipped quality to his dialogue and expertly conveying the impression
of a man who keeps himself on a tight rein emotionally. He infuses the deeper,
slightly gruff tones he uses to portray Emmitt with good-natured warmth, his
pacing is just right and he handles the humour in the text well, whether it’s
Ryu’s dry snark, Emmitt’s smart-mouthed comebacks or their team-mate Morley’s
less than subtle dude-bro back-slapping ribaldry. Goalie Interference may have had a few problems on the story front,
but the narration is very good and pushes the audiobook into the “solid
recommendation” bracket.