Coming Soon: Quarterback Blitz!

I’m excited to announce a new, well, a reissue of one of my favorite and well-received books with Ellora’s Cave Publishing. In truth, this version has been heavily revised, re-written, and re-imagined, with new scenes, chapters, but is just as hot, spicy, and adventurous as the original, with a slightly different naughtily ever after ending. As such, I’d love to share the cover with my readers and give a taste of what’s to come!

Here’s a sneak peek!

All Anna James wants for her fortieth birthday is a ladies’ night out, her plans stalled when she ends up stuck in her griffin costume. As the mascot for the Alexandria Griffins, she never expects to be rescued by the star of her midnight fantasies, quarterback Kyran Black. Dubbed “The Rebel” by the press because of his long hair, tattoos, and playboy stats off the field, he’s everything she should avoid…but still craves and Anna agrees to celebrate her birthday with him.

Certain she’s too old for him, she intends to guard her heart, but he blitzes her defenses, proving to be so much more than a legendary athlete with a media-driven reputation. But when their romantic weekend evolves into love, a blast from his bad boy past returns with a vengeance, threatening to tear their worlds apart.

Can their love overcome the pressures of living in the spotlight, or will they lose the future they’ve only begun to build?

Enjoy an excerpt from Quarterback Blitz:

Anna’s zipper was stuck!

“Dammit, why tonight of all nights?” she asked herself, wishing she’d had one of the cheerleaders unzip the back of the comical-looking mascot’s costume before they’d left. 

Unwilling to give up, she tried one more time to free herself, succeeding only in contorting herself into a pretzel. Fortunately, the eagle’s head and wings were already off, giving her some relief. But, what she needed was freedom, a shower, and the little black dress hanging in her locker.

Realizing she needed help, she headed out of her private changing nook, only to draw up short when someone knocked on the door. Hurrying forward on the chance that one of the cheerleaders returned without her keycard, she opened the door, the tall, dark man of her dreams charging inside the locker room instead.

Not just any man. Kyran Black. The legendary quarterback with a once infamous bad boy reputation signed as the backup and mentor to the franchised QB for the Alexandria Griffins.  

“Hi, Anna, was hoping to find you tonight,” he said, flashing his devil-may-care smile. His clean-shaven, chiseled features sexier by the crooked scar that ran down the left side of his chin. On their one and only date, he’d told her he’d taken a deliberate cleat to the face in college, resulting in a fight that had both players ejected. 

Trying not to concentrate on the past, she couldn’t help but look him over, if only to check for new scars or damage since she’d seen him take a terrible hit that ended his season last winter.

No, he looked good. Better than good, he looked sexy, edible, and way too young for her with his damp dark auburn hair falling to his broad bare shoulders. Celtic tattoos wrapped about his massive biceps, an LSU tiger on his chest, along with more scrollwork along his ribs and eight-pack abs, looked delicious. A peek of the deep vee of his obliques tempting her to drool. Man, why did he have to look like sex on a stick when she felt like an icky, tangled mop.

“Anna? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. You sure you’re not looking for one of the cheerleaders?” she asked, skeptical that he was there to see her.

“If I was interested in someone else, that’s where I’d be. Can I stay or not?”   

Realizing she’d crossed her arms over her chest, she relaxed a little, lowering her hands to her sides. “If I say not, will you leave?”

“Yes. Promise, I’m here to talk, that’s it,” he replied, leaning back against the door, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his faded button-fly jeans. 

“Then my permission depends on why you didn’t bother to put on a shirt.” Hell, he did look great, and those jeans with the top button undone and tears in all the right places made her imagine all kinds of wicked things.

“A reporter charged into the team’s locker room with a smartphone in hand. Was barely out of my towel before she tried to track me down at my locker to ask how I felt about tonight’s loss.”

“Ouch,” she replied, empathizing with him, the football coach inside of her wanting to talk about the game. The woman in her wanting to know why he didn’t call her after their date. “How’d you get away?”

“Dallas McKay covered for me. He’s bigger and better looking, or so his fans say.”

Not to her. Then again, she’d always had a soft spot for quarterbacks over wide outs.

“Tonight’s outcome sucks, but it’s the first game of the pre-season and you led a two-minute drill in the fourth quarter that took the game into OT. The defense gave up a big play at the end, not you.”

“Thanks. Truth is, except for that drive, I’d had a bad night. Last thing I needed to deal with is another reporter asking if I’ve still got it.”

“You do. Listen, if you give it a few minutes, the captains will give interviews in the press room and you’ll be able to return to the team’s locker room in peace.”

“Rather talk to you,” Kyran said, his intense blue eyes on her face. “Isn’t that costume hot?”

“Yes. The zipper’s stuck. Think you could give me a hand?”

Second Chance Inn

While I’m working on creating a user-friendly site, I’d like to post about my latest Contemporary Romance, the first in a series featuring Second Chances. Currently, it’s available in digital format at Amazon, B&N for Nook, Kobo, iBooks, and more! Don’t worry, links will be included.

When the series came to me, it happened on a cold, winter’s night, and I’d wondered what would happen when Mackenzie Chance, a Bostonian accountant turned whistle-blower who’d inherited her grandfather’s rustic inn in South Dakota just outside of Deadwood, becomes stranded with Ace Blackburn, her teenage crush, and lead guitarist for one of the biggest rock bands in the country. What happened was kismet, a chance for both to rediscover who they are and who they want to be. Along the way they bare their souls, fall in love, and witness a miracle, all while danger lurks just beyond a fierce winter storm that’s stranded everyone in Hawthorn, South Dakota.

Here’s a sneak peak:

Still singing along with Dead Man’s Hand, she jumped clear out of her skin when loud banging resounded from the front door. Who would be at her doorstep when it was snowing outside?

Why worry? It wasn’t as if Hawthorn was a hotbed of illegal activity. She was sure there was crime and troublemakers, but more than likely it was the town’s mayor or a neighbor checking in.

More pounding, more insistent this time met with a voice that she never, ever, in her wildest dreams thought would overpower the playlist on her laptop. “Hey, Mackenzie Chance? It’s Ace Blackburn. I used to work for your grandfather, remember? Open up! Come on now, it’s freezing out here.”

No! No way. It was her imagination. He was not at her door.

“Mackenzie? You okay in there? Please tell me I don’t need to call for an ambulance or something.”

Certain she was going to find nothing but cold wind and a face full of snow, Kenzie took her mop with her. What she’d do with it, she’d no idea, especially as she heard a curious rumble outside. Was that thunder?

“Hold on a sec,” she shouted, uncertain it was necessary, though the howl against the windowpanes increased. As did the rumbling, rolling thunder. Holy cow, it really was thundering.

Quickly, she unbarred the door, cracking open one side. There he was, larger than life, than she remembered, Ace Blackburn stood there. In. Her. Doorway. Right there! His long dark hair and badass leather jacket covered in snow.

“Hi, you gonna let me in, sugar?” he asked in that sexy, gravelly voice that could tempt a saint to sin. “Or are you about to beat me with that stick?”

“What stick?”

“In your hand. What the hell is that?”

“It’s called a sweeper or a dust mop, whichever you prefer. I’ve been cleaning the floor.”

“Okay. You gonna open the door all the way or hit me with that thing? If you choose the second option, please don’t hit anything vital. Someday, I’d like to have kids.”

“What?” Completely stunned, she was certain he was some sort of an apparition made from a snowstorm that was, in fact blowing, howling, and sending icy flakes through the door into her face.

“Never mind, sorry. Please, invite me in, the storm’s getting worse. Swear, even if you don’t remember me, I won’t hurt you.”

“I know who you are,” she said, telling herself that she was not going to react like a teenaged girl with a crush.

“In that case, lower the sweeper thing and let’s make nice.”

“Not making anything with you,” she murmured, hoping the rush of wind and ice prevented him from hearing her suddenly pounding heartbeat.

Telling herself to calm down, she stepped back and let the door swing wide. In a flash, he was inside, the door closed and barred as he stomped snow off his boots.

“Let’s start over,” he said, sticking his hand out, the sleeve of his jacket riding up some, exposing an array of tattoos running from the back of his hand upward, beneath his sleeve.

Holy moly, did he have to be so hot, even when his straight shoulder length raven-black hair was dusted with snow? With his chiseled, devilish features and a seriously sexy well-trimmed mustache and goatee, she wondered if he hadn’t just fallen out of heaven itself. Even his deep brown eyes were molten.

“Nice to see you again, Mackenzie,” he went on, the ink catching her attention the two black eights, two black aces, and unknown hole card, fanned out on the back of his hand. Known as poker’s dead man’s hand, the cards were supposedly held by Wild Bill Hickok when he was shot in Deadwood.

Ow, hell, just when she thought she was going to handle this without freaking out, the lack of lunch and the heavy lifting caught up with her. Next thing she knew, her tummy rumbled louder than the thunder snow outside and the world went gray, then black.

To find out more, check out Second Chance Inn at the following links:






After soul-searching and changes in my writing career, from traditionally published to indie, I’ve decided to create a new blog to update readers and fellow authors about my current books, new releases, and upcoming projects.

A little about me? I’ve been writing and reading romances since the age of thirteen, creating my first fictional heroine who was a contemporary cross between Laura Ingalls Wilder and Nancy Drew, who was, of course, interested in both Hardy Boys. Since then and a variety of jobs, from store clerk, pharmacy aid, veterinary technician, and a teacher, I was first published by Ellora’s Cave with a historical paranormal series then titled the Panthera. A couple years later, I began writing contemporary adult (hot) romance with a suspenseful twist to happily ever after. In the coming days and weeks, I hope to update everyone on what’s new and what’s to come, and what may be new-to-you!

Stay Tuned!

Frances Stockton