I get paid to follow a womanizing troglodyte who thinks rules are for other people and that my pants are the next pair he’s getting into.
Dream on.
Bet your first professional job didn’t involve babysitting an extremely hot, muscle-bound Scottish Highlander with an ego the size of a kilt and a libido bigger than his…well…
Chicken.
Keeping Scottish football (that’s ‘soccer” to us Americans) player Hamish McCormick away from inappropriate scandals while he does product endorsement campaigns is my mission.
He picks me up easily, one arm lifting me and pressing me against him at the same time, the feel of his hand under my ass, the hard muscle against my side thrilling. He’s completely in control and I’ve never been more aroused. Never felt less inhibited. All I want to do is touch him. Kiss him. Connect and be connected, Hamish’s tongue finding new ways to explore me, his arms encircling my back, fingers at the nape of my neck, stroking the soft skin there as he kisses me. Until I am just movement, touch, caress. “Ye taste so good,” he whispers against my mouth as we come up for air. My body is suspended by his sheer strength, as if I’m nothing yet everything to him.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.
Welcome to Fate Hollow Academy, where supernaturals blessed by the Fates cultivate their manifested powers and master ancient magic.
Fate Hollow is the academy of the elite, where supernatural beings with special magic train for war against humans.
A big-hearted, naïve arctic fox shifter like me couldn’t have prepared for the treachery lurking within the walls of the academy. Students were going missing or turning up dead on campus and rumors circulated about humans infiltrating academy grounds.
Seeds of fear bloomed within the student body. To make matters worse, the mate that rejected me was hellbent on painting a bright red target on my back with the help of his new girlfriend.
Against all odds, I found refuge with seven irresistible monsters, each one more different from the last.
Would the bond of my mates be enough to manifest my hidden power? Without it, I was vulnerable. And with a dragon cult attempting to wage war on humans, I had no choice but to fight.
“Am I increasing your body temperature?” He pushed off the desk and edged closer. “Here, let me help you with that.” He reached up and started untying my tie completely. “Just to make sure you don’t shift from the heat.” His fingers found my buttons, and he slowly started unbuttoning the top three buttons of my uniform until the air-conditioned room hit my now bare skin.
His fingers dipped low to caress the top of my breasts, and he let out a rumbling hum that cascaded over me, making my panties dampen from the sensation.
I sucked in a sharp breath, knowing he could smell it.
Inhaling, his nostrils flared and his fangs descended as he groaned. “You smell sweet, but is that peppermint I’m noticing mixed in? Did you really let Damien have a taste before me?”
My chest heaved forward, and I squirmed. “How is it that noticeable?”
“A lot of scents are noticeable, sweet ruby, if you’re paying enough attention.” He bent forward. His blood and cinnamon scent flooded my senses as he gently teased his fangs over my neck. “Won’t you let me leave my scent on you too?”
My heart thudded to a stop, and he leaned back to where I could see the mischief in his red eyes.
Lyra Winters is a twenty-something Kentucky woman who adores the book world. When she’s not typing away on her laptop or daydreaming book ideas, Lyra is occupying her time taking care of her two spunky daughters and dreamy husband. She’s addicted to Coca-Cola, 2000s rap music, and bubble baths. Her dream is to write love stories that touch the reader’s hearts.
Hawk Florence has always been the football star, the guy that can make any girl fall in love with him- and then break their heart. And that’s exactly what he did to me way back in high school. Now I’ve been assigned to do a puff piece on him for a national sports journal, and I’m more than ready to get my revenge.
The plan is simple. First, sit him down and flatter the shit out of him. Laugh at his crappy jokes. Touch his arm, let it linger. When he asks me out, I’ll flutter my eyelashes and shyly accept. Then, make him fall in love. And devour him. I’m ready. I won’t fail. But there’s one thing that I didn’t plan for: he doesn’t ask me out. Instead, he calls me out on my BS. He’s not wrong, but that’s just one of the ways that my plan has already gone terribly wrong before it even begins.
When he does finally ask me out, it isn’t much of a date. Instead, it’s a few agonizing hours of going back and forth about why we hate each other. But there is one interesting thing that came out of our brief time together: the bet that Hawk makes with me- that he will make me fall in love in 3 weeks, in love for real. If he fails, he’ll give me every exclusive for the season. Of course, I accept. Why wouldn’t I? This will help my career, and it’s not like he has a prayer anyway. This jerk broke my heart in high school, and there’s no way that I will fall for the same trick twice. Or will I?
All bets are off when it comes to the heart. Fumbled is a standalone sports romcom that will make you wonder what to do when love- and football- gives you a second chance….
“Is this where I suggest I try to make it up to you?” I asked. “To get you to like me again?”
She gave me a disbelieving look. “I doubt there’s anything you could say or do that could make that happen.”
What can I say, I’m a competitive guy. I hate to lose and I like nothing more than a challenge. She was certainly proving to be just that.
I sat back and regarded her. “I’ll tell you what. Give me—” I thought for a moment. “Give me three weeks. I’ll show you how much I’ve changed, that I actually am a good guy. If you don’t feel the same way about me by then, that you did back in high school, I’ll give you…”
“Every exclusive of the season?” she suggested.
A slow smile crept across my face. “That works.” What was I really suggesting here? That I could make her fall for me, in just three weeks? Considering the look on her face right now, I was all but prepared to lose. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t try though, and try hard.
“What’s in it for you?” she asked.
“I get to keep my ego intact,” I replied. Sure that was all. Nothing to do with mental bikini images. Nope, not at all.
Lizzi Stone is the pen name for two USA Today Bestselling authors who love sports, sexy men, strong women and coffee, lots and lots of coffee! For giveaways, new releases and deals follow Lizzi on Facebook @lizzistoneauthor.
