Genre: New Adult Comedy
Sydney’s junior year kicks off with the promise to be amazing. Or at least it does until Gray Peters, hotshot quarterback, unexpectedly reenters the scene. His presence threatens to destroy everything she has going, as well as resurrecting a night Sydney never wants to remember or repeat. She’d run away like a coward, but this time she's determined to stay and fight.
A twisted battle of wit and trickery ensues, with one common goal—vengeance. Sydney and Gray set out to make each other miserable. But misery loves company, and soon, walls are destroyed and truths are revealed that could change their future forever.
* Due to mature sexual situations and language, this author recommends an 18+ reader *
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned—a woman who lost her v-card to a one night stand who bragged about taking her to “pound town!”
Sydney Porter is a take no prisoners, no holds barred college junior club DJ and anonymous radio personality. As far as heroines go, Sydney rocks! She confident, feisty, fun, and caring…but you might just have to dig deep to see her true heart.
Gray Peters is the good-looking star quarterback. He’s been assigned to be the unofficial PR buddy to the talented, but awkward, new member of the team, Jack Porter.
When Jack needs a favor from his sister Syd and she won’t deliver, it’s Gray to the rescue to solve a simple delivery problem. Or so he thinks. One glance at a distinguishable tattoo later and Gray has met his match. And a ghost of freshman year past.
War has already been declared and Sydney is quick with the battle strategies. But Gray is not to be taken down so easily. He has plans for a long drawn attack.
“If this were an alternate universe, I’d think Sydney and I would get along just fine. Both stubborn with evil tendencies. This thought, which came out of left field, made me shudder.”
They drive each other up a wall while unconsciously turning each other on. The story is laugh-out-loud funny and a total page-turner! The writing is humorous and top-notch. The scenes are original and the plot keeps you guessing—just how far will these people go? The supporting characters are colorful and make the story even more amusing as Sydney and Gray’s love-hate relationship evolves.
“My resolve to f*ck with Sydney was morphing into a need to f*ck Sydney.”
Told via Gray and Sydney’s alternating first person POV, this is one of those great partners in crime love affairs except many of the crimes are against each other! It’s a battle of wits and schemes and you’ll be rooting for both characters. Gray is an adorable book boyfriend, and Sydney is a fabulous heroine—no weak, helpless females here.
Was Porter and Peters’s illicit night freshman year a sloppy 2 minute tryst or an all night name screaming fest? Can they stop playing games with each other long enough in the present to embrace their growing attraction?
There’s a fine line between love and hate and when that line gets crossed, the tension has to be relieved…no matter where.
"Pushing her up against the elevator rail, I gathered her skirt around her waist and slid my fingers between her thighs. God, she was wet and ready."
Oh yeah, and once things heat up, they get pretty hot! New adult romantic comedy at it’s best! 1-click a copy of this must-read now or keep reading for an excerpt...
I added another track, exploding the speaker with a fast beat, and danced around until I felt a pair of hands run up the sides of my thighs, slow and easy.
“What are you doing?” I yelled up at Peters. He was standing directly behind me and the top of my head landed just below his chin. His answer was to pull my backside into his hips.
“I’m dancing, Sinister.” He groaned into the back of my neck. “This is what you wanted, right? No inhibitions. I’m your bitch tonight, right? We can start flinging knives in the morning.”
I let out a cracked laugh, not quite understanding this one-eighty in his personality. “You don’t bring a knife to a gun fight, Peters, but if you’re referencing your dick, I’d be shocked to receive a paper cut.”
He pressed even farther into me as I continued to mix.
Looking back on this now, I should have just elbowed him in the stomach and tripped him off the edge of the balcony, but I was drunk. Elated by the dancing crowd. Everything about this place screamed sex—the people, the lighting, the sweat dripping off bodies, and his husky breathing against my ear breaking down my protective dome. I tried to muster the strength to stop him, but with my mind half altered, my body took over completely.
As if he knew I was struggling, he gently lifted the back of my damp hair and planted his lips on my neck. His tongue swept across my skin, and he softly moaned over my fret board. I released a sharp breath into the microphone, and he laughed against the back of my ear.
“What… are… you—”
Before I could finish my pathetic plea to end this, his hands slid over my front, gliding down my stomach and stopping just before the waistband of my underwear.
“Peters,” I rasped.
His hand rolled over my shirt, and he pulled it deep between my legs. I let out a breathy groan into the microphone and tipped back my head until it rested against his shoulder. Peters dragged his tongue up the inside of my neck like I was a Popsicle—his favorite flavor—long and flat. He pulled my sweat into his mouth.
When the music rose to a sharp crescendo, so did my panting, right into the mic. It was hard to believe this six-foot-two behemoth could deliver such a delicate touch, but I didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. My body had a memory of its own.
KF Germaine is a Pacific Northwest native and part-time author. Besides reading too late into the night (4 AM is still considered night, right?), KF has several life pleasures which she won’t list because, well, it begins to read like an Oscar-winner acceptance speech and no one wants to hear about her hairdresser. Instead, KF believes one's secret enjoyments are more telling. So to name a few: Circus Peanuts candy, watching country music videos on mute, and awkward/borderline-inappropriate conversations with grocery clerks.