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I
Hate You, an all-new enemies to lovers sports romance from Wall
Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa
Madden-Mills, is available now!
Join me on blog tour with this awesome New Adult romance story!
!FREE EXCERPT below!
Join me on blog tour with this awesome New Adult romance story!
!FREE EXCERPT below!
Title: I hate you
series: standalone
author: Ilsa Madden-Mills
release date: August 19
Blurb:
Blaze
Townsend:
I hate you.
Charisma
Rossi:
I hate you more.
She’s
been expecting this ever since their latest showdown. She had good
reason. Hottest
guy she’s ever seen. Former
fling. Dumped
her in front of her friends. At
her own party. So
no, she’s not about to forgive and forget just because he sits next
to her in class. He
thinks all he has to do is turn on those baby blues, and she’ll
melt right back into his arms. Please.She’d
be crazy to let this cocky player affect her again. (Tell that to her
body.)
Charisma
Rossi.
Nerd
girl with a dash of bad.
The
one who got under his skin.
The
one he cut loose.
Blaze
knows she’s the riskiest prospect at Waylon University, but none of
the interchangeable girls he hooks up with have ever made him feel
the way she did. There’s absolutely no way he can have the girl and
the game.
So
why can’t he stop trying to win her back?
Can
this wide receiver score the girl or will he make the biggest fumble
of his life
Add to your TBR:
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2ZhXn09
Purchase links:
Amazon:
https://amzn.to/2KF0tWN
Amazon
Worldwide: http://mybook.to/IHateYou
FREE on KINDLE UNLIMITED
New enemies to lovers sport adult romance book from Ilsa Madden-Mills.
Yes, please!!!
At first I didn’t know what to expect from this book, because it was my very first reading from this author but she sucked me right in from the very first page and I totally loved it. Author wrote not only romance book but also told us deep and profound story about young couple who' feeling and life was so complicated.
Charisma Rossi and Blaze Townsend were two young people who's adult life was just getting started and they were trying to find their path in the life. Despite their young age, they have complex and strong characters. I loved the angst and chemistry tossed between them.
I loved how author build the anticipation in their relationship. I loved this story. It reminds me of my young adult life and heartbreaks in high school. It was so good to dive into this story and feel it all over again through this book and let me tell you that this couple made me feel whole range of emotions. They were two different personalities but something strong pulled them toward each other. I was biting nervously on my nail when they pushed and pulled one another and also cheering them on to finally find each other in the middle of this hard journey called love. Both of them were also struggling with terrible experiences from their childhood. It's not easy to fall for someone or give them fully your heart when you've got a baggage on your shoulder already. My heart was breaking so many times during the reading.
Doesn't matter what age you are, this story is for every book addicted Lovers. I absolutely love that intense, emotional and funny romance story and spent a really good time with that book.
Arc kindly provided by author in exchange for an honest review
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Excerpt:
“Need some help?”
I’m on my tiptoes when the question comes, trying to
reach a book on the top shelf in the bookstore at the student center.
My heart does a nosedive off a cliff as that familiar
gruff voice washes over me, his accent a smooth drawl that’s
reminiscent of hot summer nights and slow kisses—kisses we never
had…well, except for that one time freshman year.
I ignore him and try to grab the book.
“You’re too short. Let me,” Blaze says, this time
closer, his voice soft.
I ease back on my feet and whip around, internally
wishing I’d worn something more I hate you
and don’t you wish you still had me, but
sadly, I’m not in my kickass shoes and itchy dress. Today it’s
flat-soled red Converse, black joggers, and a Yankees sweatshirt. I
blow at a piece of hair in my face. Shit.
Of course, he looks magnificent in a tight long-sleeved
black shirt that clings to his broad chest and tapered jeans molded
to those leg muscles. His face is unshaven, the darkness on his
jawline adding a broody look.
Curse him and his hotness.
I stare at him a little too long, until I snap out of
it.
“I don’t need help,” My voice is strangled as I
move to brush past him—forget the textbooks—but he reaches out
and takes my elbow.
“Charisma—”
His fingers are a hot brand on my skin—it’s the
first time we’ve touched in three months—and I pull away. A
tremble starts in my legs. How dare he?It
was one thing to see him in a social setting and pretend I was fine,
but when we’re face to face without people watching… “Don’t
put your hands on me. I’m not your hookup anymore, football
player.”
His face reddens, and he drops his arms. “I didn’t
mean—” he stops, not finishing as he studies my face.
I wonder what he sees. You know
what he sees, Charisma—someone who wasn’t up to his usual
standards.
Everything I didn’t say last night rushes out. “Didn’t
mean to what? Dump me in the middle of my own sorority’s party in
front of all my friends and half of campus? And you know, that’s
totally fine. We both knew I wasn’t enough to keep your attention.”
His jaw clenches and he frowns, his brow furrowing. “I
didn’t plan for things to happen that way.”
“How did you want to break up with me? Over
candlelight? A text would have worked just fine,” I bite out.
The silence builds between us, and he watches me
intently, as if trying to figure me out. He starts at my hair and
works his way down to my feet, then comes back to my face. Just when
I think I might combust from the intensity of his eyes, he looks
away.
“What?” I cock my hip. “You look like you want to
say something.”
He taps his hand against his leg. Ice-blue eyes, ones I
used to stare into and get butterflies from, glitter down at me. “You
just can’t handle that ended
things, sweetheart.”
“Not your sweetheart.”
“Never were.”
Shit…shit…my heart feels
like an anvil just landed on it, heavy and hard, and I can’t
breathe for a second at his words, part of me pissed, the other part
devastated. I wanted to be his sweetheart, I did, but he…
You’re not my type.
“Thanks for the reminder,” I say quietly, my anger
folding away piece by piece and slipping into that horrible self-pity
I despise.
He closes his eyes and scrubs his face with those
talented hands, strong and big and capable, skillful with a football.
He steps in front of me, much like he did last night,
and I tilt my head back to take him in. At my height of five feet,
three inches, it’s hard to glare at a guy who towers over you and
not look ridiculous, but I manage—until his eyes flicker with
lingering emotion.
I dart my eyes around the store, searching for a way
out, but I’m stuck between him and a bookshelf. “You’re
blocking my path.” I focus on his legs. No sexiness there—well,
except for the tight muscles under that denim.
“This is what I know,” he says in a low voice,
ignoring my statement. “You told me we
were just messing around.
You set all the rules. Isn’t that how you operate? So why does me
ending things with you even matter?”
“You never asked for more. You could have.” The
revealing words fall around us, tinged with hurt, and I want to pull
them back.
The silence between us crackles, yet I’m aware of
other people around us. There are a few girls on another aisle, and I
glance over as one of them pulls out her phone. No doubt she’s
taking a picture of him. Part of me retreats, anxious she’ll get me
in that photo—a girl who clearly doesn’t belong. He doesn’t
notice. Everyone knows who he is, and they’re probably wondering
why he’s talking to me.
“No, I didn’t,” he finally says, the words taut as
if pulled from him unwillingly. He taps his leg, his tell that he’s
anxious or angry. We weren’t together long, but every moment we
spent together, I studied him like a wine connoisseur given a glass
of rare cabernet. I know what makes him laugh, usually random things
that make no sense. I know that groan he makes deep in this throat
when he slides inside me, like he’s home. I know the feel of his
hand when he cups my face and stares at me, a hesitant expression on
his face—
“You can’t even look at me anymore. I wonder why,”
he says, his voice a challenge.
Steeling myself, I face those baby blues. “You know
why. I wish we’d never met up last fall. I wish you’d never
flirted with me. I wish I’d never fucked you that first time in the
library—”
“Same page. Same fucking page, Charisma.” And then
he’s walking away, broad shoulders swaying as he stalks down the
aisle…
About
Ilsa Madden-Mills
Wall
Street Journal,
New
York Times,
and USA
Today
best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills is best known for her angsty
new adult romances and romantic comedies.
Eight
of her eleven novels have placed in the Amazon Top 10 Best-seller
List: Dirty English #1; Fake Fiancée and I Dare You #2; I Bet You,
Filthy English, and Very Bad Things #6; Boyfriend Bargain #8; The
Last Guy, her collaboration with Tia Louise, #4.
A
former high school English teacher, she adores all things Pride and
Prejudice, and of course, Mr. Darcy is her ultimate hero.
She's
addicted to frothy coffee beverages, cheesy magnets, and any book
featuring unicorns and sword-wielding females. Feel free to stalk her
online.
Connect
with Ilsa
Join her Unicorn Girls
Group on FB, the best way to keep up:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/ilsasunicorngirls/
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Ilsa by joining her mailing list:
http://www.ilsamaddenmills.com/contact