Intercepting Daisy
Love and Football #6
Love and Football #6
by Julie Brannagh
Released September 6th 2016
Avon Impulse
Avon Impulse
From The Book Junkie Reads . . . Intercepting
Daisy (Love and Football, #6) . . .
Emotional drawing? Highly dramatic?
Nail biting intensity? Sorry if you are looking for this you must find another
read. This was light hearted and entertaining. Daisy was an outgoing young
woman that was a flight attendant for the team players on some flight. During
her occasional interaction with the servicing of these flight she formed a
crush on backup QB, Grant Parker. That
crush turned into downright dirty fantasy material for her diary. That said
diary turned in to a bestselling short story. That short story that put the
backup QB in the headlines. Not so good.
Grant Parker never imagined that his
sexual exploits would be published in a book for the masses to consume. He
never guessed that this book would interfere in a promising relationship. Things
have a way of changing and making it all work out.
I found this a light entertaining
read. Highly predictable and enjoyable. When looking for a light, humorous read
with a good outcome jump right into Intercepting
Daisy.
**This ARC was provided via Edelweiss in
exchange for an honest review.**
Love and Football series:
Blitzing
Emily - Love and Football, #1
Rushing
Amy - Love and Football, #2
Catching
Cameron - Love and Football, #3
Covering
Kendall - Love and Football, #4
Holding
Holly - Love and Football, #4.5
Chasing
Jillian - Love and Football, #5
Guarding
Sophie - Love and Football, #5.5
Intercepting
Daisy - Love and Football, #6
Blurb
From USA Today bestselling author Julie Brannagh comes the next fun and incredibly sexy novel in her beloved Seattle Sharks series.
From USA Today bestselling author Julie Brannagh comes the next fun and incredibly sexy novel in her beloved Seattle Sharks series.
When
Daisy Spencer wrote an erotic novella about the Seattle Sharks' backup
quarterback and her #1 crush, Grant Parker, she never expected it to become a
runaway bestseller. If anyone discovers she wrote the sexy story, her days as a
flight attendant for the Sharks would be over. But once she gets to know the
real man behind the fantasy, her heart may be in more danger than her job.
Having
Seattle fans think squeaky clean Grant is wild in bed is the last thing he
needs-even if it might be closer to the truth than he will ever say. As he
spends his days, and nights, with the gorgeous Daisy, he's not interested in
going back to the lonely life he once led. But when the real author of the
novella is finally outed, Grant and Daisy must both reveal the secrets they've
hidden away or risk losing a love that's better than any fantasy.
Buy
Links:
Grant
Parker heard a loud crack as he rolled over in his date’s bed and onto something
buried in the sheets. He looked at the sleeping form next to him and sighed in
relief when she didn’t stir.
He
extracted an e-reader from under one of his hips as he sat up and stared at a
large horizontal fracture in the screen in the dim light from her bathroom.
Crap. Grant couldn’t remember her name, but he was willing to bet she
remembered his. Even more, she was probably going to be pissed about the broken
e-reader.
Shaking
his head to clear out some of the cobwebs, he knew he needed to get his ass out
of here. He had a hundred bucks in his wallet. He’d leave the money to replace
the e-reader (along with a note) ten seconds before he walked out the front
door of her apartment. Still too drunk to drive, he would call Uber as soon as
he got outside.
He’d
met her at a bar last night. She was exactly what he’d wanted: a woman who
wanted one night with him. They’d had a lot of drinks, and they’d taken a cab
to her place. Minutes later, they were naked. He’d had her twice before they
both fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. He wondered what the biggest
aphrodisiac was for the women who fucked his brains out on a regular basis:
that he played pro football or that they were delighted to discover he was an
excellent lay. She’d have several orgasms to remember him by.
The
Sharks’ PR department worked overtime to craft his squeaky-clean image. Grant
had arrived in Seattle as a result of being drafted out of his small,
conservative Christian college’s football team. The Sharks had cut their former
backup QB after a DUI and a sexual assault arrest. Grant was in the right place
at the right time. Grant’s parents were also the nationally known pastors of a
megachurch in Texas, which seemed to seal the deal for the Sharks.
It
was clear in Grant’s combine interview with the team’s head coach and the
general manager that any hint of bad behavior in his personal life would not be
tolerated. The team believed Grant’s background and football skills would go a
long way to smoothing things over with angry fans. Grant wanted to play for
Seattle. It was the perfect situation.
The
Sharks’ PR department circulated pictures of him to the local media with
approved dates—girls from the local Christian college, for instance. He’d take
them to dinner and a movie or a game. He’d walk them to their front door by ten
pm, kiss them on the cheek, and
make sure they were safely inside before he got in his car and went looking for
what he really wanted: raw, anonymous sex with someone he knew he had no
intention of seeing again.
He
didn’t lie to anyone he was with. He had told
each woman before they went to her place that he was in for one night and one
night only. He told them he didn’t have sex without protection, which he
provided. They nodded, smiled, and tried every sexual enticement in their
arsenal to change his mind. It seemed that the women he dated always wanted
what they could not have. If he met someone who boinked his brains out and told
him to leave as soon as he got dressed, he’d be back for more. So far, it
hadn’t happened.
He knew he was playing with fire for being so public. He knew he should
find a woman who was interested in a mutually beneficial (and highly
confidential) arrangement. He wasn’t callous or cavalier toward anyone else’s
feelings. He just wasn’t interested in getting tied down to anyone, at least in
the short term. If he got caught having multiple one-night stands, his
carefully constructed image would blow up in his face, and any chance he had of
succeeding Tom Reed, the Sharks’ starting QB, would be gone.
He
understood his behavior could be chalked up to doing the forbidden, to the idea
he was getting away with something he shouldn’t do. What kind of idiot would
jeopardize eight million dollars a season for standing on the sidelines with a
clipboard sixteen Sundays a year by taking such a risk? The Sharks organization
wanted their fans to believe Grant spent his evenings with his playbook and
turned in early. Alone. Preferably after reading a few pages of the Bible and
saying his prayers. He was a normal, healthy guy with a normal, healthy sex
drive. Was this a crime?
Grant
wanted to watch the Sharks’ starting QB Tom Reed on the sidelines holding a
clipboard as Grant threw TD after TD. He wanted to be the guy in the
hundred-foot-tall mural screen painted on the side of Sharks Stadium. He also
wanted to be the guy who’d get his pick of twice as many women who all wanted
to do him. After all, the ladies wanted the real thing: a starter.
He
clicked on the small button that activated the e-reader. It still worked,
despite the cracked screen. He saw the title of the last book she was reading, Overtime Parking; a picture of him
crossing the tarmac at an airport to get on the Sharks’ team plane was on the
cover.
He’d
been the subject of a lot of press, but someone had written a book about him?
He hadn’t seen this yet. He was surprised his agent or the team publicist
hadn’t told him about it. He’d have to call them both tomorrow. Maybe he should
take a look at a page or two to figure out if this was an unauthorized biography.
He
touched the unbroken part of the screen with his fingertip, and the text
appeared.
And I shoved Parker’s
football pants down with both hands. He was naked beneath and sporting a
gigantic erection.
“Want it?” he said.
“Yes.” I unzipped my
jeans and wriggled until both jeans and underwear slipped to my knees. I
unhooked my bra and pushed my sweater up around my neck. I lay back on the hood
of his car in the team’s parking lot, spreading my legs, entirely exposed to
him. In full view of anyone walking past. The parking lot was full of cars; it
was a matter of time before we were discovered.
I reached down to
touch myself, to move my fingers in the wetness I felt dripping out of me. I
wanted to show him I could come from staring at him and stroking my clit. I
wanted him to see it all and to want me as badly as I wanted him.
“Fuck me,” I said.
He yanked my jeans
and my panties off and pushed my legs up over his shoulders. I couldn’t
concentrate on anything besides his arms caging me, his mouth on mine, his
hard, massive dick entering me seconds later. I arched into him, my nipples
scraping against his rock-hard chest. He grabbed my ass to pull me into his
pistoning hips. Somehow, it was even more thrilling to know we might have an
audience, and I ground into him as a result.
“Oh, God. Fuck me! I
have to have you!” I told him as I moved against him. He pounded into me, over
and over. I heard flesh slapping against flesh and the muffled groans of
satisfaction deep in his throat. I wrenched my mouth from his, raked my nails
down his back, and let out a loud cry.
“More!” I cried out.
“Harder!”
“Oh, I’ll give it to
you harder,” he growled as he thrust again. I wrapped my legs around his hips
as tightly as I could. My clit rubbed against his pelvis as I moved against
him. The hood of his car was cold but slippery against my back. It was going to
be covered with our juices by the time we were done. There was nothing like the
smell of sex; it surrounded us in the cold night air. I reached down to grab
his ass with both hands, pulling him closer.
“Faster,” I cried.
“More!”
“I’ll give you more,”
he said roughly. “I’m going to fuck you, and then I’m going to fuck you again.
Right here. Where everyone can see us. They’ll know how dirty you are, how
badly you want it. How you’d fuck them too.”
He was breathing
hard. He thrust faster, and I could feel myself coming, lust and adrenaline
coursing through my bloodstream as I reached between us to rub my clit. “That’s
it,” he said. “You want it. You want everyone to see you coming all over me,
don’t you? Come for me. Come now.”
I let out a scream as
my entire body convulsed around him. The waves of pleasure and release went on
and on. I must have blacked out for a few seconds; I could hear applause and
whistles as I came to. I saw a knot of guys a few feet from us; I was beyond
caring that I was laid out like a naked, panting feast in front of them. I was
limp in his arms, and he grinned down at me. He turned, made a slight bow to
the onlookers, and turned back to me. His dick was already getting hard again
as I watched.
“Ready for round
two?” he said. “I’m going to do every nasty thing to you you’ve ever dreamed
of. In front of them. And you’re going to love every minute of it.”
Grant
stared in shock at the broken e-reader’s screen. What the hell was this?
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Author Info
USA Today Bestselling
Author, Julie Brannagh has been writing since she was old
enough to hold a pencil. She lives in a small town near Seattle, where she once
served as a city council member and owned a yarn shop. She shares her home with
a wonderful husband, two uncivilized Maine Coons and a rambunctious chocolate
Lab.
When she’s not writing, she’s reading, or
armchair-quarterbacking her favorite NFL team from the comfort of the family
room couch. Julie is a Golden Heart finalist and the author of contemporary
sports romances.
INTERVIEW WITH JULIE BRANNAGH
How would you
describe your style of writing to someone that has never read your work?
It’s light and humorous. They’re more comfort reads than
emotionally draining or dramatic.
What mindset or
routine do you feel the need to set when preparing to write (in general whether
you are working on a project or just free writing)?
I’m usually listening to one of the Pandora channels I
like (I have everything from space music to Hildegard Von Bingen) and I’m in a
room by myself. Some authors can write in a coffee shop, on a plane, etcetera.
I have to be in my office.
Do you take your
character prep to heart? Do you nurture the growth of each character all the
way through to the page? Do you people watch to help with development? Or do
you build upon your character during story creation?
My characters come from observation and sometimes, they
present themselves fully formed in my mind. Example: I could see Emily Hamilton
of BLITZING EMILY before I wrote a word. She needed a hero that could help her
laugh at herself, namely Brandon McKenna. I had to write for a long time before
I found Grant Parker of INTERCEPTING DAISY. I knew who he was but I was
struggling with the dichotomy of a man who was naturally shy but found himself
on one of the biggest, brightest stages in the world – a starting NFL
quarterback.
Have you found
yourself bonding with any particular character? If so which one(s)?
I still love Matt Stephens of RUSHING AMY. He wants
nothing more in life than to be needed, and I gave him an independent heroine who
had to learn to let him help once in a while. I also adore Derrick Collins of
HOLDING HOLLY. He’s been in every Sharks book since CATCHING CAMERON because he
appears on the page and takes over.
Do you have a
character that you have been working on that you can't wait to put to paper?
I just started a new series. I’m writing a guy right now
that makes me laugh every time I sit down at my computer. He’s cranky. He’s
starting over at 30 and he has no idea what he’s going to do with the rest of
his life. Of course his heroine has had her life planned out since she was 12.
She never planned on him.
Have you ever felt
that there was something inside of you that you couldn't control? If so what?
If no what spurs you to reach for the unexperienced?
The only thing I would have to describe as
“uncontrollable” in my life would be the urge to write. I have to do it. It’s
like breathing for me.
I got this one from
a friend. If you could have dinner with 7 fictional characters, who would they
be?
I thought long and hard on this question. I started
reading when I was four and I still read at least one book a week. Those
characters have stayed with me. I also love movies and many of those characters
live and breathe for me, too.
If I could have dinner with any seven fictional
characters, I’d have dinner with the cast of The Princess Bride. I realize that at least one of those actors is
no longer with us, but I know I would love talking to characters that have made
my life richer as the result of watching their movie (and reciting the
dialogue) so many times over the years.
Thank you, Julie
Brannagh,
I appreciate the
time you spent with me on this interview. I do hope that we get more of your
Love and Football series. I am anticipating reading more about them all.
Thanks again,
The Book Junkie
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