In
The Red Zone
The Kelly Brothers # 6
By: Crista McHugh
Releasing March 25th, 2015
Self-Published
Blurb
All-Star
linebacker Frank Kelly is as well-known for his off-the-field hits as he is for
his on-field ones. When a dance club brawl ends with him in handcuffs again,
he’s rescued by a well-connected woman who can get the charges dropped in
exchange for a small favor. If he’ll agree to play the part of a doting
boyfriend for two months, she’ll keep him out of the slammer and help restore
his reputation.
Kiana
Dyer may be the daughter of a Hall of Fame football player, but the charity
organization she set up in his honor isn’t getting the media attention she’d
hoped for. A staged romance with Frank Kelly is just the ticket she needs to
get it in the spotlight. As the lines between fake and real start to blur, she
begins to wonder if bailing him out was the best call she’s ever made. Just
when everything seems to be falling perfectly in place, scandal surrounds her
charity, and she’s the one left scrambling to clear her name.
Goodreads
Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23455570-in-the-red-zone?from_search=true
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/117143-kelly-brothers
Author Info
Crista McHugh is an award-winning
author of fantasy and romance who writes heroines who are smart, sexy and
anything but ordinary. She currently lives in the Audi-filled suburbs of
Seattle with her husband and two children, maintaining her alter ego of
mild-mannered physician by day while she continues to pursue writing on nights
and weekends.
She is an active member of the Romance Writers of America
(including the Greater Seattle Chapter and the Seattle Eastside Chapters), and
Romance Divas.
Just for laughs, here are some of the jobs she’s had in the
past to pay the bills: barista, bartender, sommelier, stagehand, actress,
morgue attendant, and autopsy assistant.
And she’s also a recovering LARPer. (She blames it on her
crazy college days)
Excerpt
The playful banter continued throughout the meal
as he shared stories about his childhood. After they ordered dessert, he grew
silent and studied her with his head tilted slightly. “Forgive me if I’m
treading on something you don’t want to talk about, but what’s the story with
you and Tre?”
Her back tightened. He’d been so open and
cheerful about his family that she envied him. Her family was filled with
enough drama and secrets to warrant a reality TV show. “What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters, he never mentioned you
before Saturday night.”
“I told you. Our father had some trouble keeping
his zipper up. He had a fling with my mom while he was married to Tre’s mom.”
Frank nodded, the light in his eyes telling her
he was grasping far more than he dared to say. Her mixed race was something
she’d dealt with her whole life. Her mom had been blond and blue eyed, so as
soon as people saw Kiana, they knew her father was black. Her mother’s
backwoods Georgia family shunned her for her black blood, just like Tre and
some members of her father’s family had shunned her for her white blood. She’d
grown up caught in the middle of two worlds, never really accepted by either.
But the man staring back at her didn’t seem to
curl his lip in disgust or crack a joke about her nappy hair. To him, it seemed
she was more than just her race. He looked at her as though he saw beauty and
nothing more.
“So did you grow up between households?” he
asked, making it sound like her parents had been divorced and sharing custody.
If only it had been as simple as that. Her father
spent years denying she was his, only to rescue her when she needed him the
most. “No. I lived with my mother’s family until I was eight. Then Dad took me
in.”
“And his wife was cool with that?”
She nodded, the corners of her mouth rising up
into a smile. She’d much rather talk about her relationship with her stepmother
than her half-brother. “Denise has a big heart and raised me like I was her own
daughter. She told me that she’d forgiven him and wouldn’t hold his mistake
against me.”
“Sounds like a good woman.”
“She is. She’s as much my mom as she is Tre’s.”
“Is she active with the foundation?”
Kiana nodded. “As much as she can be. I think
she’s still grieving over Dad, and anything associated with it seems to dredge
up old memories.”
“I can see that.” The serious Frank resurfaced
for a moment. “My mom went through something similar after my dad passed away,
but it gets better with time. I think keeping busy with her church and bridge
club helped.”
“Not to mention keeping seven boys out of
trouble.”
He laughed and covered her hand with his own.
“Are you saying I’m trouble?”
“Most definitely.” She found herself leaning
closer and closer to him until their lips were inches apart.
“But only the best kind, right?”
He had no idea how correct he was. She knew the
danger of giving into temptation, and yet her lips longed to touch his. Her
mind cautioned that one kiss would be the beginning of a slippery slope, but
her body decided it would be worth the risk. She closed her eyes and closed the
gap between them.
Frank’s lips were firm and demanding from the
start, moving against hers with subtle variances of pressure that heated her
blood and sent a thrill coursing through her veins. He kept the kiss in check,
though, and that helped to rein in her own desires. They were in a public
place, after all, and she needed to maintain her respectable image.
But damn, if they were behind closed doors, she
definitely would’ve indulged in what he had to offer.
She caught the flash of a camera when she opened
her eyes. The jolt chased away the warm, fuzzy feelings elicited by the kiss
and left a chill of fear in its wake.
Frank laced his fingers through the hand he’d
been holding and cupped her cheek with his other one. “Relax,” he said in a
soft, soothing voice.
“But someone just took a picture of us kissing.”
“Um-hmm.” He placed another of those
feather-light kisses on her forehead. “Let them. Remember your plan.”
Part of her wanted to pull away, but she feared
what the repercussions might be if she did. “Did you just stage that kiss?”
“Nope.” But the mischievous twinkle in his eyes
told her he might have had something to do with the photographer.
“Frank Kelly, you are something else.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
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