by Celia Aaron
On third down, he called an audible and changed the play. The runners scurried to switch positions as the defensive line tried to adjust. The center hiked the ball. Trent caught it and dropped back, his helmet on a swivel as he scanned downfield for a receiver. There were none. Each eligible player who could catch the ball was well covered.
The box of linemen around Trent gave way, and a defensive back broke through and drove him to the ground. I bit the inside of my cheek. After a small scuffle between the defender and a couple of linemen, Trent jumped up and headed to the sideline, knocking the grass out of his helmet grill.
The prolonged play had eaten clock. There were only nineteen seconds left, and we were tied. That left only two ways to win the game on this set of downs—the offensive line could go for it on fourth down and hope for a touchdown, or special teams could try for a field goal.
The refs moved the chains to the seven-yard line. It would be a twenty-four yard field goal. I shot a look over to Jared Link, the first-string kicker. He had leg for days and served as the field goal kicker and punter. He pulled on his helmet and pushed through the crowd of players. After a swift chat with the coach, he ran out onto the field with the kicking team at his back. The crowd hushed.
Trent was the ball holder, so number nine was still on the field, still catching my eye. Jared walked up to Trent, who gave him a light tap on the helmet. The special teams settled into place at the line of scrimmage, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. This was for the game. Half the stadium held its breath, and the other half gave raucous shouts and jeers to try and distract our kicker. Jared backed away from Trent and took two steps to the right. He lined the shot up with his arm, then squared his shoulders and gave the signal.
The center hiked the ball. Trent caught it and held it perfectly in place as Jared ran forward. Jared kicked hard, plenty of leg for a makeable field goal. But the kick pulled to the left. Worse, an Eagles defensive player broke through the line and ran right into Jared’s outstretched leg after the kick. He went down and clutched his knee as the crowd booed and the ball sailed to the left, no good.
Yellow flags flew to the spot where Jared lay on the turf, holding onto his knee. A ref picked up a flag and signaled a roughing the kicker foul against the defense.
“Half the distance to the goal, replay the down.” The ref’s voice boomed around the stadium via his mic.
That meant we had another shot, but with only a twelve seconds left and the first-string kicker still on the grass.
“Get up Jared. Up, up!” I clenched the bench as our trainers ran out to check on him. He wasn’t rising, just clutching his leg and rolling back and forth. A sick feeling gurgled in my stomach at the pain telegraphed by Jared’s movements.
Pate, our second-string kicker, stood and began practicing. He wobbled for a moment, then squared off and kicked into the small net behind the benches.
Jared was still down, and a hush fell over the crowd. Three trainers knelt around him, trying to get a look at the injury as he groaned and shook his head each time they touched his right leg. Coach Sterling ran out to check on him and wound up supporting him under one shoulder as the trainers helped him off the field. It didn’t look good. A leg injury was the worst news for a kicker.
I turned to look at Pate. Right at that moment, he retched all over Coach Carver. Even though Pate was at least ten yards away from me, I cringed. The poor guy bent over at the waist and vomited again, this time all over the ball he’d set up to kick into the practice net.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and a litany of “oh fuck” began playing in my head on repeat when the realization hit me. If Pate couldn’t pull himself together, there was only one other kicker on the team. Me.
Coach Sterling called our second time-out and hustled over to me as I watched Pate hurl yet again, vomiting every last bit of his stomach’s contents into the too-green grass of the well-kept field.
My hands went numb as Coach clapped me on the shoulder. He’d always been kind to me, welcoming even, though somewhat aloof. After all, he had real players to take care of. I was just the Mav.
He gave me a thin smile. “You ready?”
I stared up into his weathered cheeks and watery eyes. “I-I’m—”
“Good! Now get your helmet on and get out there!”
I looked from him to the field, and then to Trent, his green eyes focusing on nothing else. It was time. Time to kick.
KICKED
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Coming this Halloween!
The Reaper’s Mate
This job. Boring is too colorful a word for it. I’ve been escorting humans to the afterlife for millennia. I’m over it. But when you’re the son of the two greatest reapers of all time, reaping is in your blood. My latest appointment is with one Annabelle Lyric, a twenty-eight-year-old New Orleans party planner. Snoozefest, right? But there is one bonus to this assignment: it’s Halloween night in New Orleans. My victim is attending a posh ball, blissfully unaware of her impending demise. The good news? I’ll fit right in with all the costumed partygoers. The bad news? When I realize Annabelle is much more than my next victim, she’s my fated mate.
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Dark Romance by Celia Aaron
SINCLAIR
The Acquisition Series, Prologue
Sinclair Vinemont, an impeccable parish prosecutor, conducts his duties the same way he conducts his life--every move calculated, every outcome assured. When he sees something he wants, he takes it. When he finds a hint of weakness, he capitalizes. But what happens when he sees Stella Rousseau for the very first time?
COUNSELLOR
The Acquisition Series, Book 1
In the heart of Louisiana, the most powerful people in the South live behind elegant gates, mossy trees, and pleasant masks. Once every ten years, the pretense falls away and a tournament is held to determine who will rule them. The Acquisition is a crucible for the Southern nobility, a love letter written to a time when barbarism was enshrined as law.
Now, Sinclair Vinemont is in the running to claim the prize. There is only one way to win, and he has the key to do it—Stella Rousseau, his Acquisition. To save her father, Stella has agreed to become Sinclair’s slave for one year. Though she is at the mercy of the cold, treacherous Vinemont, Stella will not go willingly into darkness.
As Sinclair and Stella battle against each other and the clock, only one thing is certain: The Acquisition always ends in blood.
MAGNATE
The Acquisition Series, Book 2
Lucius Vinemont has spirited me away to a world of sugar cane and sun. There is nothing he cannot give me on his lavish Cuban plantation. Each gift seduces me, each touch seals my fate. There is no more talk of depraved competitions or his older brother – the one who’d stolen me, claimed me, and made me feel things I never should have. Even as Lucius works to make me forget Sinclair, my thoughts stray back to him, to the dark blue eyes that haunt my sweetest dreams and bitterest nightmares. Just like every dream, this one must end. Christmas will soon be here, and with it, the second trial of the Acquisition.
SOVEREIGN
The Acquisition Series, Book 3
The Acquisition has ruled my life, ruled my every waking moment since Sinclair Vinemont first showed up at my house offering an infernal bargain to save my father’s life. Now I know the stakes. The charade is at an end, and Sinclair has far more to lose than I ever did. But this knowledge hasn’t strengthened me. Instead, each revelation breaks me down until nothing is left but my fight and my rage. As I struggle to survive, only one question remains. How far will I go to save those I love and burn the Acquisition to the ground?
Short Sexy Reads by Celia Aaron
A Stepbrother for Christmas
The Hard and Dirty Holidays
Annalise dreads seeing her stepbrother at her family’s C
hristmas get-together. Niles had always been so nasty, tormenting her in high school after their parents had gotten married. British and snobby, Niles did everything he could to hurt Annalise when they were younger. Now, Annalise hasn’t seen Niles in three years; he’s been away at school in England and Annalise has started her pre-med program in Dallas. When they reconnect, dark memories threaten, sparks fly, and they give true meaning to the “hard and dirty holidays.”
Bad Boy Valentine
The Hard and Dirty Holidays
Jess has always been shy. Keeping her head down and staying out of sight have served her well, especially when a sexy photographer moves in across the hall from her. Michael has a budding career, a dark past, and enough ink and piercings to make Jess’ mouth water. She is well equipped to watched him through her peephole and stalk him on social media. But what happens when the bad boy next door comes knocking?
Bad Boy Valentine Wedding
The Hard and Dirty Holidays
Jess and Michael have been engaged for three years, waiting patiently for Jess to finish law school before taking the next step in their relationship. As the wedding date approaches, their dedication to each other only grows, but outside forces seek to tear them apart. The bad boy will have to fight to keep his bride and Jess will have to trust him with her whole heart to make their happy ending a reality.
F*ck of the Irish
The Hard and Dirty Holidays
Eamon is my crush, the one guy I can’t stop thinking about. His Irish accent, toned body, and sparkling eyes captivated me the second I saw him. But since he slept with my roommate, who claims she still loves him, he’s been off limits. Despite my prohibition on dating him, he has other other ideas. Resisting him is the key to keeping my roommate happy, but giving in may bring me more pleasure than I ever imagined.
Forced by the Kingpin
Forced Series, Book 1
I’ve been on the trail of the local mob kingpin for months. I know his haunts, habits, and vices. The only thing I didn’t know was how obsessed he was with me. Now, caught in his trap, I’m about to find out how far he and his local cop-on-the-take will go to keep me silent.
Forced by the Professor
Forced Series, Book 2
I’ve been in Professor Stevens’ class for a semester. He’s brilliant, severe, and hot as hell. I haven’t been particularly attentive, prepared, or timely, but he hasn’t said anything to me about it. I figure he must not mind and intends to let me slide. At least I thought that was the case until he told me to stay after class today. Maybe he’ll let me off with a warning?
Forced by the Hitmen
Forced Series, Book 3
I stayed out of my father’s business. His dirty money never mattered to me, so long as my trust fund was full of it. But now I’ve been kidnapped by his enemies and stuffed in a bag. The rough men who took me have promised to hurt me if I make a sound or try to run. I know, deep down, they are going to hurt me no matter what I do. Now I’m cuffed to their bed. Will I ever see the light of day again?
Forced by the Stepbrother
Forced Series, Book 4
Dancing for strange men was the biggest turn on I’d ever known. Until I met him. He was able to control me, make me hot, make me need him, with nothing more than a look. But he was a fantasy. Just another client who worked me up and paid my bills. Until he found me, the real me. Now, he’s backed me into a corner. His threats and promises, darkly whispered in tones of sex and violence, have bound me surer than the cruelest ropes. At first I was unsure, but now I know – him being my stepbrother is the least of my worries.
Forced by the Quarterback
Forced Series, Book 5
For three years, I’d lusted after Jericho, my brother’s best friend and quarterback of our college football team. He’s never paid me any attention, considering me nothing more than a little sister he never had. Now, I’m starting freshman year and I’m sharing a suite with my brother. Jericho is over all the time, but he’ll never see me as anything other than the shy girl he met three years ago. But that’s not who I am. Not really. To get over Jericho – and to finally get off – I’ve arranged a meeting with HardcoreDom. If I can’t have Jericho, I’ll give myself to a man who will master me, force me, and dominate me the way I desperately need.
***
Zeus
Taken by Olympus, Book 1
One minute I’m looking after an injured gelding, the next I’m tied to a luxurious bed. I never believed in fairy tales, never gave a second thought to myths. Now that I’ve been kidnapped by a man with golden eyes and a body that makes my mouth water, I’m not sure what I believe anymore. . . But I know what I want.
***
CASH REMINGTON
AND THE MISSING HEIRESS
Sexy Dreadfuls, Book 1
I’m the best operator in the entire agency. The plum assignments—always mine. So when an American heiress goes missing, I’m the guy they call to get her back. Rescuing Collette Stanford is my mission. What I do to her after that is purely up to me, as long as she makes it back to the States in one piece. I’ll kill the bad guys, get the girl, and get a little taste of what the heiress has to offer. None of this is negotiable. I’m Cash Remington, and I never miss.
***
CASH REMINGTON
AND THE RUM RUN
Sexy Dreadfuls, Book 2
I plunder the sea, steal what I can, and never look back. It’s a pirate captain’s life for me. When my crew and I discover a destroyed ship floating on the endless waves, we scavenge it for every scrap of cloth and every morsel of food. Inside, I find a treasure—gold, gems, and a girl. I’ll ravage the girl, spend the gold, and use the gem to buy the ship of my dreams—the Gloomy Lotus. At least that’s the plan—until the Kraken, a whirlpool, and a six-headed beast attack my ship. Despite the danger, I still intend to have my way with the girl. Nothing can stop me. I’m Cash Remington, and I take what I want.
Celia Aaron is a recovering attorney who loves romance and erotic fiction. Dark to light, angsty to funny, real to fantasy—if it’s hot and strikes her fancy, she writes it. Thanks for reading.
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