Meet Brody Easton in THE BALLER!
A standalone Contemporary Romance novel by
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author Vi Keeland
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1RwtAtr
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1ZwJnI4
I am thinking a trip to Subway is in order….. I am suddenly craving 12 inches!
Brody Easton is everything and more in tight football pants. Gah, he is the perfect combination man he encompasses it all.
Alpha, hot, built, fun, caring and just all around AMAZING!!
Once I started reading I couldn’t stop and did not want it to end. I now suffer the dreaded hangover. Wanting to read but knowing nothing will compete right now.
This one will leave you hot, bothered, curious, a little broken and smiling.
Delilah and Brody… such a wonderfully perfect fit.
Brody’s bluntness will rock your world. His dirty mouth….whew… keep some dry undies handy.
There is so much in this story. A whole spectra of information. Football, addiction, love, lust, grief, and dealing with life and learning what love really means.
“Where there were no highs and lows and where happiness was found in the calm at the center. But at that moment, I finally realized peace wasn’t about avoiding things. It was about making the choice to live life with all its chaos around you, and in the midst of it all, having calm in your heart.”
There is more inside those pants than just a piece of man-meat. There is SOOO much more than meets the eye!
The first time I met Brody Easton was in the men’s locker room.
It was my first interview as a professional sportscaster.
The famed quarterback decided to bare all.
And by all, I don’t mean he told me any of his secrets.
No. The arrogant ass decided to drop his towel, just as I asked the first question. On camera.
The Super Bowl MVP quickly adopted a new hobby—screwing with me.
When I pushed back, he shifted from wanting to screw with me, to wanting to screw me.
But I don’t date players.
And it’s not because I’m one of the few women working in the world of professional football.
I’d date an athlete.
It’s the other kind of player I don’t date.
You know the type. Good looking, strong, cocky, always looking to get laid.
Brody Easton was the ultimate player.
Every woman wanted to be the one to change him.
But the truth was, all he needed was a girl worth changing for.
Turned out, I was that girl.
Let’s face it. It never is.
There’s a story between once upon a time and happily ever after…
And this one is ours.
A new song had just started, and I was enjoying his company when a voice behind me said, “Can I cut in?”
My head whipped around, even though I had no doubt whom the gravelly voice belonged to.
Michael was gracious. “I hate to share. But I suppose I have been hogging the most beautiful woman at the event.” He let go of my hand and stepped back with a gentlemanly nod. “Thank you for the dance, Delilah.”
Again Brody Easton had caught me off guard. Before I knew it, I was dancing with the arrogant jerk. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body tight against his. Way tighter than Michael had held me.
“Good to see you again, Lois Lane.”
The man had balls; I had to give him that. I looked him straight in the eyes. “Nice to see you with clothes on, Easton.”
“Do you prefer me without?”
“I prefer you on the other side of the room.”
He chuckled. It was a hearty laugh. “That’s what happens sometimes when you decide you want to hang out in the men’s locker room.”
I tried to pull back, but he tightened his grip and held me in place. I craned my neck. “Let go of me.”
“That’s right. No.”
“I can scream at the top of my lungs.”
“I’d like to hear you scream.” His tone made it clear he meant he wanted me underneath him while I was doing the screaming.
“You’re an asshole. You know that?”
“I do. You asked me that yesterday. For a reporter, you should really try changing up your questions more frequently.”
My eyes bulged.
Easton shifted his hand down to the small of my back before twirling us around the dance floor. Figures the prick can dance.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“You can’t be serious?”
He ignored my comment. “Would you like to have dinner tonight?”
“We just ate.”
“Dessert at my place, then?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you hit your head at the game yesterday?”
“On a diet, huh?”
“Yeah. That’s it. I don’t want to go to your place for dessert because I’m on a diet.”
“Well, that’s just a shame.”
About the Author
Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn’t change for the world. She is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently while pretending to work. She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting smut author by night!