Hot Zone Boxed Set
Publication date: June 15th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
SUMMER IS HOTTER WHEN YOU’VE GOT FIVE SCORCHING SPORTS STARS ON YOUR KINDLE.
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.
Goodreads / Amazon
On sale for 99¢ until release day only!
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!
AUTHOR: Lilly Christine
“You’re Candace, right?”
Shane took her in, from the tips of her newish Uggs all the way up to her shy, embarrassed eyes. Tossing his head, so a mop of dark curls lifted and settled against his cheeks, coarse with day old scruff, a thrill shot down her middle, and she felt her face go red. Her reaction was silly; of course she’d expected Shane McGreer, one of Team Method’s stars. She was shadowing Method’s men’s team manager, Dave, right?
Nationals had been when they were fourteen, and he’d been tipsy at the wedding; there was no way she ever thought he’d remember her. But now Shane McGreer was towering over her, big and bold. . . and amazing.
Flustered, she stammered, “How do you. . .?”
“Dave told me we’d be flying in around the same time, to keep an eye out for you,” he drawled, loose and lazy. “I recognized you, too, of course.”
“You do?” she asked, too high-pitched, too pleased that he remembered her.
“Yeah. You’re really pretty.”
“Oh. Thanks,” Candace stammered, trying to calm her voice, not sure what else to say.
Oh. My. God!
Alright, her hair was her best feature, long and tawny blonde and curly, but where Shane was tall and lean, Candace was short and dumpy. Not dumpy, exactly, but round and full and curvy. Okay, her tummy was flat, but she had hips. And a butt. Anyway, her body had proven great for snowboarding and gymnastics: with a low center of gravity, she’d always nailed inverts and rotations.
Shane was still looking her over. Which made her nervous, more so because it seemed like he liked what he saw. “So. . . ” she said lamely.
Grabbing his own snowboard bag from the floor, Shane plucked hers from the floor too, slugging it over his broadly-muscled shoulder, taught under the Method graphic t-shirt he wore. “You brought a heckuva lot of gear for a event that only lasts five days, Candace Bamberger. C’mon, our SUV is parked outside. I already grabbed the rental keys. You and I are the only afternoon arrivals. The rest of the crew is coming in tonight, with Dave.”
AUTHOR: Lyssa Kay Adams
Title: The Prospect
“You lied to me,” he accuses.
“Of course, I lied! You really think that night meant nothing to me? It meant everything to me!”
“Then why?” he cries, wrapping his hands around my arms. “Why did you run away? Why do you keep pushing me away?”
“Because you’re a prospect!” I blurt, angry and thick-voiced.
“What?” He stumbles back.
“You’re him,” I shout. “The one they warn us about when we’re growing up here. The one who has all the looks and all the smiles. The one with big promises who will charm the pants off any girl they want and then leave.”
He can barely contain his fury as he sputters a response. “Charm the pants off …? Is that what you think I was doing that night? That I’m trying to do now? You think you’re just some ball bunny I’m trying to score with?”
“Then what the hell did you mean?”
“You’re a prospect,” I say again, as if emphasizing the word will somehow make it mean more this time. “And there just aren’t a lot of prospects for a girl like me. Not with a guy like you.”
“Well, this is your lucky day, Bree,” he breathes, voice a low rumble as he closes the distance between us again. “Because I’m not much of a prospect anymore.”
Then he grips the back of my head.
And kisses me.
My body reacts instinctively, like a cannonball into a cold lake. I stiffen and suck in a gasp at the shock of it, the surprise of it, the giddy recklessness of it.
But in the next instant, as his fingers relax and weave into my hair, as his mouth softens against mine with a low moan, and as his other hand finds a home on the small of my back, I start to sink. Memory and longing drag me under.
A murky voice in the back of my mind tries to throw me a line and yells at me to grab on because it’s only going to hurt in the end, that I’m just feeling vulnerable and needy right now, that even if I manage to crest the surface again, I’m going to end up coughing and sputtering on the beach when he leaves.
For two years, I’ve been kicking against this current, barely keeping my head above the crashing waves of my want for him. But now I’m drowning all over again, helpless in his rogue wave. And all I can do is swim to him.
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