A Contemporary Thursday Featuring Jaci Burton

I had an entirely different book planned for today but when I remembered Jaci Burton's Playing To Win hit the shelves yesterday I had to swing by, get my copy and share an excerpt with everyone here today. For those that haven't gotten to this series yet here's your chance to absorb the greatness that is sexy sports heroes! Ms. Burton has a way of bringing them to life within the pages of her books!

Below you'll find all the goods on the series and the necessary links to get a copy if you're so inclined. The cover art is a given (how could I NOT share it) and an extended snippet reading that won't give to much of the story away but enough for you to get a good look at the hero and heroine of the story.

Happy reading!

Playing To Win
Jaci Burton
Play-BY-Play, Book 4
Out Now

Back of the Book:

Someone’s going to have to let down their guard…

Football star Cole Riley is notorious for doing as he pleases—on the field and off. He parties hard and fights harder, but if he doesn’t clean up his act, his career is over—so Cole reluctantly agrees to work with image makeover consultant Savannah Brooks. He’s not used to being told what to do, especially by some (admittedly hot) Southern belle. As for Savannah, she’s not convinced she can transform this cocky (and aggressively sexy) force of nature. But she’s determined to give it her best shot.

When the sparks start to fly, Savannah lays down the ground rules: no personal complications. If she can turn off the tingle she feels every time Cole gives her a hot stare with his gorgeous baby blues, he can turn off his desire as well. But for two people determined to have it all, a hands-off policy can only last so long before one of them yields.

EXTENDED SNIPPET READING “ONE MORE REP.” On the bench press, Cole looked up at his trainer, Mario, at the moment wishing he could kick his ass. But since he currently held two hundred pounds of weight balancing precariously over his chest, he’d have to put a hold on that ass-kicking. He held the bar in his hands, sweat pouring off his brow, his arms shaking like a goddamned first-timer at the gym. “Come on, you pussy, three more reps.” He pushed, hoping like hell Mario would be there to catch the bar in case it came crashing down on his chest. “That’s it, Cole. You’ve got it. You’re almost there.” “Eat. Shit. And.” He racked the bar, sat up, and leaned over, feeling like he was going to puke. He swung his legs over the side of the bench and glared at Mario. “Die.” Mario patted Cole on the back. “I knew you could do it.” “Fuck you.” “See, I’ve always suspected you had the hots for me. But you’re not my type.” “Bullshit. I’m totally your type. Tall, well-built, and athletic.” Mario laughed. “Exactly. Just like my boyfriend. But if you’re interested, I could set you up with a few really hot guys.” Cole rolled his eyes at Mario, pushed off the bench and stood. “No, thanks. I have enough trouble dealing with women.” He looked at the front door, where Savannah was coming in. “Speaking of, here comes my newest problem.” Mario followed Cole’s gaze. “Wow. She’s a stunner.” Admittedly, Mario was right. In a conservative, short-sleeved red dress that clung to her curves and high heels that showcased her long legs, Savannah commanded attention. She was beautiful. And irritating. And untrustworthy. She walked through the doors into the gym, smiling when she saw him. She headed toward them, and Cole was struck again by her walk. And her legs. Damn her legs, anyway. He needed to remember the untrustworthy part. “Good morning, Cole,” she said, then turned to Mario and held out her hand. “I’m Savannah Brooks.” Mario shook her hand. “Mario Genino. I’m Cole’s trainer.” She gave Cole the once-over. “You do a fine job of it, Mario.” Mario laughed. “Thanks. I work him over pretty good. What do you do for Cole, Savannah?” Oh, shit. The last thing he needed was for Mario—or anyone—to find out the team had hired a fucking image consultant for him. “She’s—” “I’m doing some consulting work for him. Someone with Cole’s talent and vast portfolio needs expert assistance, as you can probably imagine.” Mario nodded. “Hell, yeah. Have to protect his assets.” Savannah smiled. “Indeed, we do.” Mario glanced up at the clock. “I hate to greet and run, but my next client will be coming in soon. Nice to meet you, Savannah. Cole, I’ll abuse you again tomorrow.” “Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you. Nice meeting you, Mario,” Savannah said. “Yeah, see you, Mario.” Cole waited until Mario left, then turned to her. “You lied. Again.” She lifted her chin. “I did not.” “You didn’t tell him what you were really hired to do.” “I don’t think it’s anyone’s business. And I merely altered the truth a bit, while not lying.” He crossed his arms. “Whatever. What’s on the agenda for today?” “Your workout is finished?” “Yeah.” “What are your plans after this?” “Lunch. I need to load up on some protein after I work out.” “Fine. We’ll have lunch, and I’ll go over the plans.” “Okay. I need to shower.” “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.” She was being accommodating. Nice. He didn’t want her to be nice. He wanted to argue with her. He wanted her to be a bitch. Anything so he wouldn’t like her. He showered and dressed, and when he went out to the lobby, she was talking to a couple of the guys from the team who’d come to work out. Single and a few years younger than him, Jamarcus Davis and Lon Fields were offensive stars on the Traders. Both had reputations for being lady-killers, and rightly so. Solidly built, damn good-looking, and friendly with women, they were loaded with charm, and even worse, neither of them had shitty reputations like he did. Looked like they were charming Savannah, too. She had a smile on her face when he got close. She was even laughing—that damn laugh that made his balls quiver. She caught his eye as he approached. “Oh, there you are.” Jamarcus and Lon turned, too, and their smiles died. “You’re with Riley?” Jamarcus asked, surprise on his face. “Yes, I am. Are you ready to go, Cole?” “Yup.” He took Savannah’s arm and led her to the door, winking at Jamarcus and Lon. “See you later, guys.” “Yeah, later, Cole,” Lon said with obvious disappointment. “We can take your car if that’s all right with you,” Savannah said, sliding her sunglasses on as they stepped outside. “You can just drop me off after we’re finished.” “That’s fine.” “Let me grab my briefcase first.” She stopped at one of those hybrid tree-hugger cars, grabbed a leather bag, then joined him at his gas-guzzler SUV. “Sorry,” he said as she climbed in, hiking her dress up. “I didn’t know you’d be getting in with me or I’d have brought the car.” “It’s no trouble.” Especially no trouble for him since he got a glimpse of her spectacular thighs. Jesus, he’d have to focus on something else so he wouldn’t sprout a hard-on. Now that really would be unprofessional. He started up the SUV and turned to her. “What do you like to eat?” “I’m not fussy. Wherever you want to go is fine with me.” “Okay.” He headed out, deciding that, instead of his favorite hamburger joint, they’d go to an actual restaurant, something that served a selection of stuff, since he had no idea what she liked. Though why that mattered to him, he had no idea. She was an imposition. He should make her eat big, fat, greasy burgers. “You didn’t tell them I was your client.” “Excuse me?” she asked, turning away from the window to look at him. “Jamarcus and Lon. You know they thought you were my date.” “Did they? I guess that’s their mistake then, isn’t it?” She returned to staring out the window. He smiled, shook his head, and pondered the mystery that was Savannah Brooks. It was hard not to like her, even though he was opposed to working with her. Though he guessed it was the idea of an image consultant he didn’t like. He liked her just fine. Or maybe he was just attracted to her legs and her gorgeous face. Since it was unlikely she was going to date him, it didn’t matter what he thought about her personally, so they might as well get this over with. He pulled into the restaurant parking lot. “This place?” she asked. “What about this place?” “I don’t know. It’s charming. A little Italian restaurant named Carmen’s? You seem like a burger or steak kind of guy.” “I come here a lot. Great food.” He came around to her side and assisted her in getting out of his SUV. “Thank you,” she said, smoothing her dress down over her legs as she stepped onto the parking lot. She grabbed her bag and they went inside, where Carmen was working as hostess today. “Cole,” she said, kissing both his cheeks. “So nice to see you here.” She looked over at Savannah and a gleam sparked in her eyes. “Oh, you have a new girl.” To Carmen, who was nearly eighty, every woman was a “girl.” “Carmen, this is Savannah Brooks.” Carmen enveloped Savannah in her ample frame. “Honey, you’re beautiful.” “Thank you. Your restaurant is lovely.” Carmen looped her arm in Savannah’s. “Thank you. My father opened this restaurant. It’s very special to our family. Cole’s parents come here a lot. I’ve known this kid since he was five years old. He used to throw spaghetti on the floor.” Savannah laughed. “Is that right?” “You bet. He and his sister would come in here with their parents every Friday for dinner.” “That’s fascinating,” Savannah said. Carmen threw Cole a look over her shoulder. “Come along, sonny.” Maybe he shouldn’t have brought Savannah here. Cole followed as Carmen showed them to their table. He shook his head when Carmen led them to the one in the corner. The dark corner. He could tell Carmen they weren’t on a date, but what would be the point? “I’ll be sure to tell Mike not to bother you two so much during lunch, okay?” She kissed Cole on the cheek and left. “Carmen’s sweet. Misguided, but sweet,” Cole said as he held the chair out for Savannah. “Thank you. And yes, she’s very nice. Obviously, she’s practically family. You’ve been coming here this long?” He shrugged. “I told you. I like the food.” Savannah looked around. “It’s a great place. Very atmospheric. I love the dark tables, the cheery red-and-white curtains.” She inspected the olive oil and balsamic vinegar bottles. “So, your parents come here a lot?” He knew what she was doing—trying to get to know him better. He should have hit the steak house. Fortunately, Mike, their waiter, came over and took their order and brought their bread and drinks. Cole took a drink of his water and looked at Savannah. “I guess you can tell me what I have to look forward to.” “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather eat first?” Savannah asked with a smile. “It’s that bad?” She laughed. “I don’t think it’s bad at all. At first I’ll be shadowing you for a while, mainly to figure out your routine and watch your interactions. Then I’ll have some suggestions.” “Shadowing me? You mean to monitor my behavior.” “No. To get a feel for your routine.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a file. Cole cocked a brow. “You have a file on me?” “The team provided media reports, analysis of your on-field behavior from prior teams, and altercations you’ve had in the past, all contributing to a profile I’ve put together on you.” They waited while Mike put their lunch in front of them. Since Cole was hungry, he dug into his chicken Parmesan while Savannah ate her chicken salad. All the while, he stared at the folder she’d pushed off to the side. “So what’s your conclusion?” he asked. “This is just a preliminary analysis, but my belief is that you have anger management issues.” He let out a snort. “I do not.” She speared a leaf of lettuce, and didn’t argue with him. “Seriously. I don’t have anger management issues. Or any other kind of issues. I told you last night, the media lies. They blow everything out of proportion.” “What about your issues with the teams you’ve been on?” He shrugged. “Personality clashes. I’ve just been on the wrong teams.” “I see. And you think it’ll be different with the Traders.” “Yeah. I’ve already connected with them. This is a good fit for me.” “So assuming this team is, in fact, a good fit for you and you have no skirmishes with anyone on your team, from players to management, what about your personal life?” “What about it? I told you it’s not me, it’s the media.” She laid her fork down and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with the napkin. “To some extent, you’re likely correct. The media has a tendency to overdramatize and exaggerate. But if you don’t give them anything to work with, they have nothing to report. You give them plenty, so even if what’s there is minor, they have the opportunity to blow it up.” “That’s bullshit.” He pushed his empty plate to the side and finished his glass of water. Mike was right there to refill it, then blended into the darkness of the restaurant again. “I don’t give them anything. They make shit up.” “You also have an issue of not being able to accept blame for your actions.” “If I’m wrong, I’ll accept blame.” She raised her fork, then paused, her lips lifting in a hint of a smile. “Let me guess. You’re never wrong?” Irritation spiked. He pushed it down, refusing to get into an argument with her here. “I didn’t say that. And you’re baiting me.” “I’m not baiting you, Cole. We’re having a conversation. Your anger is quick to spark. Once it does, you don’t back down. That’s why you get into trouble so easily. And so often.” He sucked in a breath, trying to keep control. “So is this an exercise to see how fast you can piss me off?” “No.” She looked down at her plate, then back up at him. “It’s lunch.” “You think this is funny.” “I wasn’t making a joke. I’m trying to get you to understand that you’re angry for no reason. We’re having a conversation. A conversation that you’ve turned into what you think is me attacking you.” She pushed her plate to the side and drew the file folder in front of her, opened it up and pulled out photos and articles. “If you’d like, you can explain these photos and altercations. Give me an understanding of you, of what was happening during these events.” He took the photos. “This one was at a club. I was kicking back with some friends, and suddenly there are ten cameras in my face. Lights are popping, they’re pushing the woman I was with just to get closer to me. What the hell was I supposed to do? I shoved them out of the way so I could get my date out of there. She was freaked out.” He pulled out an article, this one from some tabloid rag that said he’d been drunk and passed out in a club. He snorted. “Paparazzi tripped me while I was trying to get away from them. So they take this photo of me lying facedown in a club and then print that I’m drunk and passed out.” At her dubious look, he shot her a glare. “I don’t drink during the season. It affects my performance. Look at the date.” He handed the article back to her. “October fifteenth.” “Exactly. Deep in the middle of the season. No alcohol. You can go to the club owners and ask them.” She filed the article away. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” “This one, I was out with my parents. My parents. That’s news? It was their anniversary and I wanted to take them out to dinner. Someplace nice and quiet, and the goddamned media shows up. I’m not an actor. I’m not Hollywood. I’m just a jock. Taking my parents out to dinner isn’t newsworthy. Yet they stalked me and hounded my parents, blinding them with their cameras.” “Did you bring a date that night?” He frowned. “What?” “When you took your parents out to dinner for their anniversary. Did you bring a date?” “Yeah.” “That’s why you had the media stalking you. You’re a hot commodity, Cole. You’ve had big endorsement deals, you’ve done commercials, and you’ve been known to date high-profile women. That makes you attractive to the media. Next time you want to take your parents out for a quiet dinner, don’t bring a date.” “It shouldn’t matter whether I bring a date or not. The media should leave me alone.” She smiled at him. “What you want and what you’re going to get are two different things. You’ve been in the NFL for six years now, and you were hot even when you played college ball. If you don’t want this life, then maybe you should consider retiring.” He was about ready to let Peaches hoof it back to her car. “That’s a bullshit suggestion.” “And you’re a whiner. You have a great career, you make more money than most of the people in this country will ever dream of. You have a ton of perks, you can retire before you’re forty and live a life of luxury—provided you’re financially astute and haven’t pissed it all away. Yet you’ve cornered yourself into a terrible reputation and your career is hanging by a thread. What? Fame, money, and success aren’t enough for you? Are you unhappy?” He pushed his chair back, pulled a wad of bills out of his wallet, and threw them on the table, then tossed some extra at her. “You can take a cab back to your car, Peaches. We’re done here.” *~* It's great to see everyone here! How do you like today's snippet? Intriguing to say the least. Seems Cole has a few issues to work out and I can't wait to find out how "Peaches" helps him resolve them! 
Make sure to come back every day for a little taste of different authors and genres to add to your list of must haves!