Excerpt
I remained
still, my arms wrapped around my knees, my jean shorts digging into the space
where thigh met crotch as my red hair was whipped around my face by a passing
breeze. I breathed in and out, counting backward from a hundred. Taking deep
breaths and closing my eyes, I allowed positive energy to burn through me and
eat away at the bad.
Giggles
wafted from the benches below, near the fountain, and then drifted off as the
other girls made their way out of the sports complex. Reality returned. It was
present day, not back then when I was helpless.
Today I
was in control.
Only after
the others left—not that it mattered, I was invisible to them—did the coach nod
in my direction and motion for me to come down.
That
simple gesture felt like something more. Like I meant more to him than was
appropriate for a coach and his student. His head tilted to the side for a beat
too long, his gaze rested on me more thoughtfully than it had on the others,
and he squinted at me in a way I liked very, very much.
“Think you
can keep up with them?” He jerked his head back toward the gymnasium, a smirk
twisting his mouth.
I zoned in
on his lips and became a sailboat slicing through the sea, jumping into the
blue ocean that was his eyes as I made my way down the stairs.
That’s
your coach, Juliette. Let it be.
“I play
singles, so I’m pretty sure I’ll hold my own with or without them,” I said from
the bottom step, allowing my natural confidence to make an appearance. Hello,
ego, my good friend.
“Yeah, I
know. I meant, think you can hold your own with that crowd? In general?”
“I’ll be
fine. I’m looking forward to it,” I lied. I wasn’t looking forward to dealing
with them. Not today. Not tomorrow.
Though,
now that I was in the presence of Coach King—up close and personal, outside,
shouting, coaching, wearing shorts—I was more excited than before. His forearms
fascinated me all over again. They rippled with strength when he moved, making
me wonder what they would look like braced over me.
I pulled
my hair back into a messy knot at my nape, allowing the breeze to hit my heated
neck. “Thanks for asking me to come and watch.”
It’s reckless and hot until one of them taps out.
Break Point by Rachel Blaufeld releases January 9th!!!
Pre-order EXCLUSIVELY
on iBooks: http://apple.co/2feY5UQ
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Blurb
Juliette
Smith, star tennis player, is starting over at a new university. Traumatized by
hazing at her last school, all she wants is to attend classes, win tennis
matches, and be left the hell alone.
She
should have known her coach, Drew King, would be a problem from the moment he
flexed his sexy-as-hell forearms.
What happens
when you mix a pissed-off woman with a bunch of snooty teammates and a hot
coach?
A heated
match, complete with team politics and a forbidden game of singles with the
coach.
It’s
reckless and hot until one of them taps out.
Unable to
admit she may be better off as a double, Jules is convinced she needs to play
the game of life alone. Then life throws her a lob and she runs smack into her
past.
Coach
King is back, and he wants to take control of the game. But she’s not certain
she wants his advice when it comes to the life she’s built.
The power
struggle is on, but this time off the court.
The Boys of Verite make an appearance in Break Point.
Grab this stand alone sports romance HERE!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1SGDN61
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1O9CKGj
iBooks: http://apple.co/2geWr9R (CURRENTLY FREE)
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Meet
Rachel
Rachel Blaufeld is a bestselling author
of Romantic Suspense, New Adult, Coming-of-Age Romance, and Sports Romance. A
recent poll of her readers described her as insightful,
generous, articulate, and spunky.
Originally a social worker, Rachel creates broken yet redeeming characters.
She’s been known to turn up the angst like cranking up the heat in the dead of
winter.
A devout coffee drinker and doughnut
eater, Rachel spends way too many hours in local coffee shops, downing the
aforementioned goodies while she plots her ideas. Her tales may all come with a
side of angst and naughtiness, but end as lusciously as her treats.
When she isn’t writing, she can be found
courtside, tweeting about hoops as her son plays, or walking around the house
wearing earplugs while her other son, the drummer, bangs away.
To connect with Rachel, she’s most active
in her private reading group, The
Electric Readers, where she shares insider information and intimate
conversation with her readers.
As well as:
Website ♥ Twitter ♥ Facebook ♥ Newsletter
THANK YOU!
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