Tuesday, 20 August 2019

🏈 I HATE YOU 🏈 Ilsa Madden-Mills 🏈 #TheHookUp3 #Standalone #BlogTour #Excerpt 🏈



© Bianca   Janeane 





• 19 August 2019
standalone College Football Romance
• Book #3 in the Hook Up Series


★★★★★
4.75 Stars
There’s a fine line between I hate you and I want you.
Once you cross it, there’s no going back.


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?




Charisma and Blaze were 'seeing' each other for three weeks last year.
Then he broke up with her in front of everybody. No one knows why. And Charisma is so mad at him.
But he felt he had no other choice. She became too important too quickly for him, and he has to give 100% to football. He needs the NFL to come calling. He can't afford a relationship now. Maybe he should've told her that - she wouldn't be so mad at him now.
BUT things are looking up - they're talking again. Having the same class, being friends with the same people. And they're still mega attracted to each other. But the NFL is farther out of reach than ever, and Blaze has to work even harder to get noticed. And Charisma's professional future is also not looking all to bright at the moment. So it should not be the right time to rekindle their thing... but love has other ideas!




I LOVED IT!
Such a fun and adorable and so very heartbreaking story!

Like with most books these days I have to say that it wasn't anything new or ΓΌber original. I've read a million sexy and funny & heartbreaking sports romances. BUT - I love those books!!!! I love football and college romances. And this one was so sweet and funny and sexy and moving ... I loved Charisma & Blaze! And I still hated Archer. What's his problem?? Jeez!
I had to cry for poor little Blaze a few times. Ugh - his story is so heartbreaking. He just wants to make it big to show everyone back home that he's worth it to be loved, to be seen. So sad.

I really enjoyed reading this book!
Also - the adorable Vampire Bill is back - I want one too!!!!!

I HATE YOU was such a funny & adorable & heartbreaking college football romance! I loved it! Run to your nearest amazon for your own BLAZE - this one is MINE!




ARC received for an honest review

I am starting to shy away a little from college aged romances - nothing against the books, it is just that I am an old fart and it is a bit pervy lusting after 21 year old boys lol

Also, I know nothing about American football - other than it takes about 42 hours to play a game!
However, there are some authors that I will pick up no matter the age of the characters, and Ilsa Madden-Mills is one of them.

I Hate You has been my favourite of the HookUp series so far.  I felt it was more relatable, more emotional than the previous books.  I may have shed a tear or two especially over Blaze's story.

I hated how my Charisma was down on herself.  I got frustrated with both Blaze and Charisma, however I couldn't help but want to see them together, to succeed, to fall in love.

I loved seeing more of the guys and gals from the previous books, but OMG why did we need to see more of Archer - that guy is 1000% douchenozzle!

My favourite, favourite character was back with a vengeance too - Vampire Bill, can I adopt you?

I laughed, I screamed, I wanted to throw my Kindle across the room. Most of all I adored this book.

Can't wait to see what Ms Mills brings us next.


♥ 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…

↓ Links to the book & author ↓
  



Book #1






Book #2

  
  



Spider






Fake FiancΓ©e





 Wall Street Journal best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

She's addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding females. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Ian Somerhalder, astronomy (she's a Gemini), and tattoos. She has a degree in English and a Master's in Education. When she's not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets and fuzzy pajamas.