L.H. Cosway & Penny Reid
Rugby Series (Book 2)
Release Date: April 12, 2016
iBooks • Kobo • Barnes & Noble
How can someone so smokin’ hot be so bad in bed? I mean, Sean Cassidy is absolute rubbish. RUBBISH. He is the epitome of walking, talking false advertising and I want a refund! Plus he’s an arsehole. So… what is wrong with me that I can’t stop thinking about him?
The Pixie and the Player is a full-length, romantic comedy novel, can be read as a standalone, and is the second book in the Rugby Series.
Lucy Fitzpatrick doesn’t like rugby.
As the little sister of Ireland’s most infamous rugby player, Lucy can’t seem to escape the championship-sized shadow cast by her big brother, or her mother’s frequent attempts to micromanage her future. Her rainbow hair is as free-spirited as her quest for inner peace, yet overbearing expectations keep bringing her down. And when she’s down, her compulsive little problem lands her in seriously big trouble.
Sean Cassidy is a cold-hearted brute… or so he’s been told. Frequently. By everyone.
His blonde locks, baby blues, and rock hard bod make ladies the world over drool with desire. As the rugby world’s second most infamous player, he should be basking in his success. But Sean has never been content settling for second place, and his frequent confrontations with Lucy’s big brother leave him cold. And when he’s cold, his compulsive little problem lands him in the lap of Lucy Fitzpatrick.
Sean has a problem only Lucy can solve. Lucy has a problem only Sean can fix. The solution seems obvious: you scratch my back, and I’ll bail you out of jail. But when their business arrangement unexpectedly leaves Sean scorching hot and Lucy on the precipice of inner peace, can they convince the world—and Lucy’s big brother in particular—that this is the real deal?
Either way, both the Player and the Pixie are about to teach each other some pretty monumental lessons about family, life, but most importantly, love.
The Hooker & the Hermit
Barnes & Noble • Kobo • Smashwords
I didn’t know what I was doing.
Requests, things I wanted, words I would never speak or allow myself to think were now uncontainable.
It’s the sex, I reiterated. Again. I’d used this explanation, now on repeat, as a simple justification for the complex cacophony of my mind.
“Be with you?” Her long, dark lashes fluttered, beating like distressed butterfly wings against warming pink cheeks.
I licked my lips, tasting her there. “Yes.”
She stared at me, confused. I was also confused. And oddly frightened.
Because it wasn’t the sex.
Several seconds ticked on as we studied each other in breathless silence. She found her voice before I did. “What does that—”
“Lucy?” Annie’s voice was paired with a soft knock on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”
I opened my mouth to whisper a clarification to the question Lucy hadn’t quite posed, because I was compelled to tell her it wasn’t the sex. We didn’t have to have sex. We could just . . . talk. Or play cards. Or touch. Or look at each other from across the room.
We could merely be together.
But she covered my mouth with her hand. Her features arrested with unmistakable panic.
“Yes. I’m fine! I just . . . started my period is all. Made a mess in my jeans, like a crime scene.” Lucy hollered in response then grimaced. She immediately mouthed I’m sorry to me. Her cheeks flushed red.
I lifted an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes, ducking her head with obvious embarrassment. I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t laugh.
Issuing me a quelling look, Lucy released me and skittered out of the stall, whispering, “Stay here and count to three hundred.”
“Oh! Do you need anything?” Annie’s voice was less muffled and I surmised she’d opened the bathroom door.
“Ah, no. Have it all sorted now. Thank God Tom has these nice absorbent napkins instead of those troublesome hand driers. Although I feel like I’m wearing a nappy. They’re bad for the environment, so I should talk to him about replacing the napkins. Maybe make a few available for emergencies . . .”
Lucy’s anxiety-riddled chatter faded as the bathroom door clicked shut.
I released an audible exhale. My heart was beating as though it might leap from my chest. I needed to catch my breath. Neither had anything to do with being caught.
What the fuck were you doing?
It was the sex. She’s phenomenal in bed. You’ve never had that before. It was just sex.
I nodded, reiterating the logic of my justification for the uncharacteristic behavior. If I repeated it enough, perhaps I would believe it.
I didn’t count to three hundred as instructed. I counted to one hundred and twenty-three, then realized what I was doing.
“You’re mad, Sean,” I muttered, shaking myself and promptly leaving the ladies’ room. I checked the cufflinks on my dress shirt—a nervous habit—and strolled back to the table, eyeing the assortment of eejits gathered.
L.H. Cosway has a BA in English Literature and Greek and Roman Civilisation, and an MA in Postcolonial Literature. She lives in Dublin city. Her inspiration to write comes from music. Her favourite things in life include writing stories, vintage clothing, dark cabaret music, food, musical comedy, and of course, books.
She thinks that imperfect people are the most interesting kind. They tell the best stories.
* * * * *
SEX! It all started with sex, between my parents. Personally I don’t like thinking about it, but whatever works for you is a-ok with me. No judgment. The sex happened in California and much of my life also occurred in that state until I moved from the land of nuts (almonds), wine, silicon… boobs, and heavy traffic to the southeast US. Like most writers I like to write, but let’s get back to sex. Eventually I married and gave birth to 2 small people-children (boy-6, girl-4 as of this writing).
By day I’m a biomedical researcher with focus on rare diseases. By night I’m a knitter, sewer, lino block carver, fabric printer, soap maker, and general crafter. By the wee hours of the morning or when I’m intoxicated I love to listen to the voices in my head and let them tell me stories. I hope you enjoy their stories.
The Player and the Pixie is an incredibly entertaining book – I devoured it in one afternoon. The authors took the least likable player on the team and found his match. Then because they let their true personalities shine – you know, the ones with flaws and insecurities – they fell completely in love with one another and it’s perfect.
Lucy is Ronan’s sister – both of whom we met in the first book, the Hooker and the Hermit. She’s a conundrum. Her personality is fierce and bold, yet it is over shadowed by the deep seeded insecurities her mom instilled within her psyche. It’s kinda sad the lengths her subconscious goes to just for her to exist in her daily life.
Then there is Sean… a man who almost lived to rub people the wrong way. He loves to challenge and push his teammate’s buttons – especially Ronan. But as you get to know him, you realize that it is not because he is overly arrogant or cocky but that it is defense mechanism. His vulnerability was unexpected and made him all the more loveable.
I adored these two as a couple – they seriously made my heart swoon. The chemistry between the Lucy and Sean is off the charts hot and their friendship is one to be coveted. They end up having a few major issues standing in their way and their journey to getting a happily ever after will make you feel all kinds of emotions. It is both fun and intense which makes it a remarkable romance.
Some books are just word magic. You find that between the covers amazing characters hide and you absolutely love diving into their worlds. It’s because they exude humor, raw emotions and you feel like you’re living through the romance instead of reading about it. It makes for such an amazing reading experience and I love finding books that process it.
The Player and the Pixie has all that magic and more. It was one of the best books that I’ve read this year. So I recommend that you definitely don’t miss this romance – Lucy and Sean’s story is a must read.