Published by Self-Published on February 6th 2017
Genres: Contemporary Romance
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A new standalone romance from Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author Ilsa Madden-Mills...
They say nothing compares to your first kiss,
But our first kiss was orchestrated for an audience.
Our second kiss…that one was REAL.
He cradled my face like he was terrified he’d f*ck it up.
He stared into my eyes until the air buzzed.
Soft and slow, full of sighs and little laughs,
He inhaled me like I was the finest Belgian chocolate,
And he'd never get another piece.
A nip of his teeth, his hand at my waist...
And I was lost.
I forgot he was paying me to be his fake fiancée.
I forgot we weren’t REAL.
Our kiss was pure magic, and before you laugh and say those kinds of kisses don’t exist…
Then you’ve never touched lips with Max Kent, the hottest quarterback in college history.
Get ready for breathtaking kisses and dreamy football players…
Pretending never felt so good….
Fake Fiancée by Ilsa Madden-Mills is NOW LIVE!
ONLY $0.99 & Free on Kindle Unlimited.
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2laEuMc
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2lfrSjw
Amazon Paperback: http://amzn.to/2ldp4TS
Q & A Review by Angie & Liezel
Would you ever date someone who paid you to?
Angie: Yes I would if the money was right and I was single. There’s no shame to my game. I do realize that some call that being an escort but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do!
Liezel: Haha, good question! Personally, it would depend on different factors besides the money. I would have to know more about the person, find out if there was even a spark of chemistry, discover if they were tolerable and that our beliefs were somewhat similar.
Do you believe in fate?
Angie: I do. When I met my husband it was love at first sight. I seen our future flash before my eyes. It was weird. I think fate bought Sunny and Max together for a reason and it tells us in the book you need to read. Lol
Liezel: Absolutely! However, I don’t think every single person meets their fated one. Maybe it’s because of karma, something they’ve done in the past life maybe. I do believe that if they don’t meet this person in this lifetime that they could in the next.
Would you let a lie linger just so someone can get something they want or confront it?
Angie: I’m not a good liar. My hubby knows by looking at my face if I lying so I would confront it head on. In private of course but I still would confront it. I would lose hair and sleep over it.
Liezel: I could let a lie linger to spare ones feelings and emotions but other than that I’m all for confronting it otherwise it would bother the hell out of me.
Could you date someone who has the reputation as a player?
Angie: That’s a tricky question. Yes and no. No if he was only trying to get into my panties but if there were more to him after getting to know him then I would. People don’t ask to have reputations and some hide behind them. The only way to really know if they’re true is if you get to know that person first.
Liezel: I agree with every single word Angie said. Judging people before getting to know them in completely unfair. I actually think it would really be entertaining a known “player” of course doing so with caution.
Would you recommend this book?
Angie: Yes! It was such a cute, funny, hot, sexy, quirky read that is worth every bit of the 2 hrs I took to read it. I really hope Nash gets his own book and Isabella too!
Liezel: This is one of those types of books that you couldn’t put down. The best thing about it was the characters! You can’t help but fall madly and deeply in love with this swoon-worthy quarterback and his just as fantastic counterpart Sunny. Loved everything about this book and this is why I rate it….
Max stalked over to the barrier that divided the stands from the football field and jumped it. The fans went nuts as he brushed past them, some not even realizing it until he was down the aisle. The Jumbotron followed him.
“Good Lordy, what’s he doing?” Mimi asked, clutching at her chest.
“I don’t know,” I said rather weakly, taking the chance to study him the closer he came. He was beautiful, his shoulders impossibly broad. To add to the distraction, his helmet was in his hand and all that dark brown hair was flowing around his chiseled features as if he had a fan in his face. My Viking.
“He’s coming over here,” Mimi commented.
He was. But why?
I stopped breathing . . .right when he came to a halt in front of me and knelt down on one knee.
Eyes the color of a wild ocean gazed at me.
He took my left hand in his right one.
“Max,” I breathed, my heart fluttering.
He gazed up at me. “Sunny Blaine, will you marry me?”
The stadium went wild. In a daze, I looked up at the Jumbotron and felt like I was watching this happen to someone else. Camera phones flashed all around us.
My first clear thought was I’ll kill him.
Aloud, nothing came out but a faint wheeze. Clearly someone had stuffed a giant wad of cotton in my mouth. Clearly I needed something a lot stiffer to drink than this Diet Coke. Clearly my fake boyfriend was a freaking raving lunatic.
He sat his helmet on the ground next to my feet, reached inside it and pulled out a small black box.
No, no, no!
The box opened, and my stomach churned at the sight of the large round solitaire diamond ring that was nestled on the black silk. I blinked repeatedly to clear my vision.
With deft fingers, Max eased it out of the lining and slipped it on my left hand.
I stared down at it. Then back at him.
I was going to murder the hottest quarterback in the country.
Kiss her, Kiss her, the crowd chanted.
We were the focal point of the entire world.
Max stood and tugged me up with him until we were standing. He slid his hand around my neck and pulled his face to mine. The sky was blotted out as he kissed me.
But I hadn’t said yes!
I wouldn’t say yes.
Not to a fake engagement.
The applause of the stadium was deafening. And his kiss—it was deadly. Despite my rage, my body craved him. His lips were hot, so hot, and my tongue met his with a vengeance. We kissed hard, and I nipped at him, my teeth scraping across his lips. But the only one who’d end up bleeding in this scenario was me.
He eased back to take me in, and with a final look at my face he gave a thumbs-up sign to the entire stadium. They went nuts, chanting his name.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear, letting his hand trail down my arm as he stepped back from me. He walked away backward, eyes on me the entire time. The announcers for the game told everyone who might have missed it that Max Kent had just asked his girlfriend to marry him, and she’d said yes. More cheers came as they replayed him on his knee in front of me with a giant YES written across the top.
I plopped back down in my seat. Frozen.
“. . . did you see her face? Shocked . . .”
“. . . most romantic thing in football . . .”
“. . . luckiest girl in the world . . .”
My face went hot. Even my ears burned. I wanted to crawl under a seat.
What a lie.
The half ended and our offense came out to the field, snapped the ball, and Max threw it straight to Tate who ran it in for another touchdown. My chest constricted and anger churned in my gut.
I didn’t care who won.
I hated football right now.
Most of all, I hated Max Kent, and I was going to make him pay.