~Synopsis~
A
new standalone romance from Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author Ilsa
Madden-Mills...
They say nothing
compares to your first kiss,
But our first kiss was
orchestrated for an audience.
Our second kiss…that
one was REAL.
He cradled my face like
he was terrified he’d f*ck it up.
He stared into my eyes
until the air buzzed.
Soft and slow, full of
sighs and little laughs,
He inhaled me like I
was the finest Belgian chocolate,
And he'd never get
another piece.
A nip of his teeth, his
hand at my waist...
And I was lost.
I forgot he was paying
me to be his fake fiancée.
I forgot we weren’t REAL.
Our kiss was pure magic, and before you
laugh and say those kinds of kisses don’t exist…
Then you’ve never
touched lips with Max Kent, the hottest quarterback in college history.
Get
ready for breathtaking kisses and dreamy football players…
~Buy links~
Amazon
US: http://amzn.to/2laEuMc
Amazon
UK: http://amzn.to/2lfrSjw
Amazon
Paperback: http://amzn.to/2ldp4TS
~Review~
There
is a special place in my heart for these characters. I loved Sunny’s attitude
and of course Max will quickly become one of your favorite book boyfriends. I
devoured this book in one sitting and with doing that I had a huge book
hangover the next morning and it was so worth it.
I
loved the fact that these two characters had such a strong chemistry between
each other; it was so steamy that your kindles will set ablaze. The banter
between the two of them will have you laughing your butt off. Max’s past is
something that will make you want to pull him in a big hug. Then we have Sunny’s
grandmother Mimi, she just added this extra flare to the book and I loved it.
Ilsa
knows how to write a story that will leave you captivated and she did just that
and more with this book. Now I have to sit and wait patiently for what she has
coming up next.
~Excerpt~
Max stalked over to the barrier that divided the stands from the
football field and jumped it. The fans went nuts as he brushed past them, some
not even realizing it until he was down the aisle. The Jumbotron followed him.
“Good Lordy, what’s he doing?” Mimi asked, clutching at her chest.
“I don’t know,” I said rather weakly, taking the chance to study him
the closer he came. He was beautiful, his shoulders impossibly broad. To add to
the distraction, his helmet was in his hand and all that dark brown hair was
flowing around his chiseled features as if he had a fan in his face. My Viking.
“He’s coming over here,” Mimi commented.
He was. But why?
I stopped breathing . . .right when he came to a halt
in front of me and knelt down on one knee.
Eyes the color of a wild ocean gazed at me.
He took my left hand in his right one.
“Max,” I breathed, my heart fluttering.
He gazed up at me. “Sunny Blaine, will you marry me?”
The stadium went wild. In a daze, I looked up at the Jumbotron and
felt like I was watching this happen to someone else. Camera phones flashed all
around us.
My first clear thought was I’ll
kill him.
Aloud, nothing came out but a faint wheeze. Clearly someone had
stuffed a giant wad of cotton in my mouth. Clearly I needed something a lot
stiffer to drink than this Diet Coke. Clearly my fake boyfriend was a freaking
raving lunatic.
He sat his helmet on the ground next to my feet, reached inside it and
pulled out a small black box.
No, no, no!
The box opened, and my stomach churned at the sight of the large round
solitaire diamond ring that was nestled on the black silk. I blinked repeatedly
to clear my vision.
With deft fingers, Max eased it out of the lining and slipped it on my
left hand.
I stared down at it. Then back at him.
I was going to murder the hottest quarterback in the country.
Kiss her, Kiss her, the crowd chanted.
We were the focal point of the entire world.
Max stood and tugged me up with him until we were standing. He slid
his hand around my neck and pulled his face to mine. The sky was blotted out as
he kissed me.
But I hadn’t said yes!
I wouldn’t say yes.
Not to a fake engagement.
The applause of the stadium was deafening. And his kiss—it was deadly.
Despite my rage, my body craved him. His lips were hot, so hot, and my tongue
met his with a vengeance. We kissed hard, and I nipped at him, my teeth
scraping across his lips. But the only one who’d end up bleeding in this
scenario was me.
He eased back to take me in, and with a final look at my face he gave
a thumbs-up sign to the entire stadium. They went nuts, chanting his name.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear, letting his hand trail down my
arm as he stepped back from me. He walked away backward, eyes on me the entire
time. The announcers for the game told everyone who might have missed it that
Max Kent had just asked his girlfriend to marry him, and she’d said yes. More
cheers came as they replayed him on his knee in front of me with a giant YES
written across the top.
I plopped back down in my seat. Frozen.
“. . . did you see her face? Shocked . . .”
“. . . most romantic thing in football . . .”
“. . . luckiest girl in the world . . .”
My face went hot. Even my ears burned. I wanted to crawl under a seat.
God.
What a lie.
The half ended and our offense came out to the field, snapped the
ball, and Max threw it straight to Tate who ran it in for another touchdown. My
chest constricted and anger churned in my gut.
I didn’t care who won.
I hated football right now.
Most of all, I hated Max Kent, and I was going to make him pay.
~About the Author~
Wall Street
Journal best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and
sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.
She's addicted
to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding females. Other
fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Ian Somerhalder,
astronomy (she's a Gemini), and tattoos. She has a degree in English and a
Master's in Education. When she's not pecking away on her computer, she shops
for cool magnets and fuzzy pajamas.
She loves to
hear from readers and fellow authors. Email her at ilsamaddenmills@gmail.com.
~Social links~
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