Five bestselling romance authors give you this steamy, sexy and sizzling compilation of sports star stories. From sweet-hot baseball players to smokin' snowboarders to rich Italian race car drivers, there's something here for everyone. This collection features the best in New Adult sports romance, all with the promise of happy-ever-after.Hundreds of pages for one amazing price. Grab a cold beverage, sit by the pool and get into the Hot Zone -- with your next book boyfriend.
Authors include 2017 RITA nominee Lyssa Kay Adams, Lilly Christine, Tamara Lush, Rae Anne Hadley and Lyssa Lane.
Lyssa Kay Adams: The PROSPECT
Baseball star Jax Tanner is everything Bree McTavish has been warned about. Easy smiles. Lethal charm. Sexy promises, satisfaction guaranteed. He’s a prospect! When Cinderella meets baseball, secrets and dreams collide in the greatest grand slam of all. . .
Lilly Christine: SNOWSLAMMER
Smokin' hot snowboarder Shane McGreer shows intern Candace Bamberger legendary moves, and not just in halfpipe! It's hot burn at high altitude and Shane wins big, but Candi's heart and conscience are both on the skids. Then tragedy strikes, slamming them both back to a chilling reality. . .
Tamara Lush: RACING WITH THE ENEMY
Fast. Seductive. Italian. The first female tire changer in open-wheel racing, Savannah Jenkins is lured into deception with irresistible driver Dante Annunziata. Suddenly, she's no pioneer. . she feels like his mistress! The race is on to save her heart from. . everything.
Rae Anne Hadley: DOUBLE NUMBERS
Quivering muscle. Coiled power. It's the sport of team roping, and Valerie must choose between horse and man.
Lyssa Layne: DIG DEEP
Beach volleyball sensation Lindy James needs only sanity, secrecy, sunshine and sand. One glance at the blonde bombshell, and sports agent Kip Deevers heart takes a dive as he catapults her into the spotlight. LIndy's secret's out, Kip's career tanks, and it's all riding on the final play. . .Dig Deep!
Racing With The Enemy by Tamara Lush
I took a deep breath and tried not to stare as he peeled the shirt off. He had perfectly-defined shoulder muscles and a V starting at his hips and dipping down below his coveralls. He wasn’t bodybuilder-muscular, but was cut as if carved from Roman marble. Long, sinewy muscles rippled against smooth, olive-hued skin.
“My father,” I blurted. Realizing my answer made no sense, I added, “My father owns a tire company in America. Jenkins Auto. When I was a teenager, I’d go with him to races all over the U.S. NASCAR, IndyCar, stock car races. I majored in automotive engineering at Georgia Tech.”
I conveniently left out the pageant part, and how an eating disorder had affected my confidence while I was a teen, enough so I’d shunned most of the trappings of femininity. Motorsports made sense. Being a woman didn’t. It wasn’t that I couldn’t act the part of being a girly-girl—no, I’d been beautiful on stage, once upon a time. I was simply through with projecting an image of perfection. I wanted people to like me for my brains and personality, not my smile and pale skin and red hair.
Which is why it was so disconcerting, scary even, that Dante was staring at me with big, dark pupils and a huge, flirtatious grin. Men usually didn’t flirt with me, and I never, ever flirted with them.
“You come from impressive credentials.” He made wide stretching movements with his arms, crossing one over his torso. The movement sent a little waft of his scent toward me, and even though he’d been sweating in race coveralls, he smelled faintly of lime and spice. And, of course, man.
The man scent was very, very sexy.
“Thanks.” I wanted to bury my nose in his chest.
He stretched the other arm up and over his head, bending at the elbow. Transfixed, I watched his muscles ripple. What would it feel like to be underneath his chest, to run my hands over it, to arch my own body and feel him against my bare skin? It made me shiver a little, despite the thick Italian heat.
“My father,” I blurted. Realizing my answer made no sense, I added, “My father owns a tire company in America. Jenkins Auto. When I was a teenager, I’d go with him to races all over the U.S. NASCAR, IndyCar, stock car races. I majored in automotive engineering at Georgia Tech.”
I conveniently left out the pageant part, and how an eating disorder had affected my confidence while I was a teen, enough so I’d shunned most of the trappings of femininity. Motorsports made sense. Being a woman didn’t. It wasn’t that I couldn’t act the part of being a girly-girl—no, I’d been beautiful on stage, once upon a time. I was simply through with projecting an image of perfection. I wanted people to like me for my brains and personality, not my smile and pale skin and red hair.
Which is why it was so disconcerting, scary even, that Dante was staring at me with big, dark pupils and a huge, flirtatious grin. Men usually didn’t flirt with me, and I never, ever flirted with them.
“You come from impressive credentials.” He made wide stretching movements with his arms, crossing one over his torso. The movement sent a little waft of his scent toward me, and even though he’d been sweating in race coveralls, he smelled faintly of lime and spice. And, of course, man.
The man scent was very, very sexy.
“Thanks.” I wanted to bury my nose in his chest.
He stretched the other arm up and over his head, bending at the elbow. Transfixed, I watched his muscles ripple. What would it feel like to be underneath his chest, to run my hands over it, to arch my own body and feel him against my bare skin? It made me shiver a little, despite the thick Italian heat.
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Box sets a good way to find new authors. Thanks for sharing the excerpt.
ReplyDeleteThey sound awesome! Thanks for sharing :)
ReplyDeleteAll the judges will be holding up a 10!
ReplyDelete