The Baller by Vi Keeland
Publication Date: January 18th, 2016
Genres: Contemporary Romance, Sports
Source: the publisher
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The first time I met Brody Easton was in the men’s locker room.
It was my first interview as a professional sportscaster.
The famed quarterback decided to bare all.
And by all, I don’t mean he told me any of his secrets.
No. The arrogant ass decided to drop his towel, just as I asked the first question. On camera.
The Super Bowl MVP quickly adopted a new hobby—screwing with me.
When I pushed back, he shifted from wanting to screw with me, to wanting to screw me.
But I don’t date players.
And it’s not because I’m one of the few women working in the world of professional football.
I’d date an athlete.
It’s the other kind of player I don’t date.
You know the type. Good looking, strong, cocky, always looking to get laid.
Brody Easton was the ultimate player.
Every woman wanted to be the one to change him.
But the truth was, all he needed was a girl worth changing for.
Turned out, I was that girl.
Let’s face it. It never is.
There’s a story between once upon a time and happily ever after…
And this one is ours.
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This book was on my Most Anticipated list for January. Just look at the blurb…and that cover? Get out of here! I knew this one was going to be right up my alley.
I love sports romances and dirty-talking smart alecks who know how to handle a ball. The Baller has that, for sure, but what I didn’t expect was the added emotional aspects of the story.
I enjoyed the first half of the book, where Brody and Delilah are bantering and badgering each other. It was fun to watch their snarky mating dance turn into more. There is just enough angst to make it enjoyable and rewarding to see them finally get together.
I hit a couple of speed bumps in the middle, when a third point-of-view is introduced. I started to feel a little nervous and I needed to see how everything was going to play out. Things got back on track, however, and I loved the epilogue. I just would have liked a little more depth to the story—especially from the third character’s POV.
The Baller is definitely enjoyable and entertaining. The things that were hiccups for me may not be for you, so give it a read!
by Vi Keeland
A new song had just started, and I was enjoying his company when a voice behind me said, “Can I cut in?”
My head whipped around, even though I had no doubt whom the gravelly voice belonged to.
Michael was gracious. “I hate to share. But I suppose I have been hogging the most beautiful woman at the event.” He let go of my hand and stepped back with a gentlemanly nod. “Thank you for the dance, Delilah.”
Again Brody Easton had caught me off guard. Before I knew it, I was dancing with the arrogant jerk. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body tight against his. Way tighter than Michael had held me.
“Good to see you again, Lois Lane.”
The man had balls; I had to give him that. I looked him straight in the eyes. “Nice to see you with clothes on, Easton.”
“Do you prefer me without?”
“I prefer you on the other side of the room.”
He chuckled. It was a hearty laugh. “That’s what happens sometimes when you decide you want to hang out in the men’s locker room.”
I tried to pull back, but he tightened his grip and held me in place. I craned my neck. “Let go of me.”
“That’s right. No.”
“I can scream at the top of my lungs.”
“I’d like to hear you scream.” His tone made it clear he meant he wanted me underneath him while I was doing the screaming.
“You’re an asshole. You know that?”
“I do. You asked me that yesterday. For a reporter, you should really try changing up your questions more frequently.”
My eyes bulged.
Easton shifted his hand down to the small of my back before twirling us around the dance floor. Figures the prick can dance.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“You can’t be serious?”
He ignored my comment. “Would you like to have dinner tonight?”
“We just ate.”
“Dessert at my place, then?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you hit your head at the game yesterday?”
“On a diet, huh?”
“Yeah. That’s it. I don’t want to go to your place for dessert because I’m on a diet.”
“Well, that’s just a shame.”