Today I have the great pleasure of welcoming fellow Decadent Publishing author Liz Crowe to Jenna’s Journal.  Liz’s passion for soccer has manifested itself in several ways–including her newest release Caught Offside.

Football, the European variety, holds a very special fascination for me.  “Soccer” as we call it in the states was once described to me as “a game played by gentlemen, watched by hooligans” (the flip side being Rugby: A game played by hooligans and watched by gentlemen).

I don’t know about that (well, I do and I agree but for argument’s sake okay?) but I do know I think that soccer players are some of the most amazingly fit and in many cases downright gorgeous men in the athletic universe.  Look at it this way.  The game is 90 minutes long, with a fifteen minute break in between. There are NO breaks for commercials, ass scratching, third downs, 7^th inning stretches or any other nonsense not directly related to the game.  If a player goes down (as Ramon does, in a big way in my new release “Caught Offside”) the clock will stop but that time is added back on at the end (“stoppage time” is one of my favorite phrases).

These guys have to be fit.  You would be if you ran up and down an enormous field for nearly 90 minutes straight trying to kick a ball into a goal, or keep it from happening at your end.  And they are.  It could be argued that they are the fittest overall of any professional athlete.

And it is truly unfortunate that the yanking off of one’s uni jersey when one scores a goal was declared a yellow-card-able foul. Criminal, really.

Ramon Castillo, hero of my new 1NightStand book from Decadent Publishing is at the top of his game.  A young stud both on and off the field, he’s risen quickly and is playing at the pinnacle of the sport: the World Cup, for the United State Men’s national team when a Dutch player (these guys play ROUGH) goes “cleats high” and destroys his knee and shin with a red card foul hit (“red card” in the World Cup puts you out of playing time for the rest of the tournament).  When the game you love is all you know, and it is taken from you with one vengeful act in front of millions of viewers, it would do a number on you emotionally.

Fans of the 1NightStand series will recognize the name “Castillo” of course.  Ramon is Jackson’s adopted cousin. Jackson paid for the bulk of the young man’s training in the early days and allows Ramon to spend the last part of his rehab in the resort in Vegas.  He also believes Ramon’s rep with the ladies is a lot of bunk.  The kid certainly scored his fair share but Jackson realizes he usually committed his heart to a string of women who wanted nothing more than “a piece of the spotlight” that followed Ramon around.

Jackson has a plan that involves his friend Gillian, catering manager at a competing casino resort. Turns out Gillian is an ex-player herself, a young widow with a son whose only dream in the world is to meet his hero, Ramon Castillo.  It takes a few wrong turns at first, but the two do meet on the pitch (“field”) then later for dinner.  The rest, as they say, is “magical.”

Ramon, for me, is a lovely combination of my favorite players in the world, Xabi Alonso, midfielder for Real Madrid (and the Spanish National Team) and Carlos Bocanegra, champion defender and captain of the current U.S. Men’s National Team.

Yummmmmmmy, no?

There is an amazing, Brit-based blog for people with my “problem.”

www.kickette.com  The blog for women who love soccer, and the men who play it. I’m a “gold medal” member.

Excerpt:

Ramon Castillo limped into the lobby of the MGM Grand Casino hotel, mind closed and dark with frustration. His leg ached from knee to ankle, although it had been a short walk down the Strip from his cousin’s resort where he’d been mending—and hiding—for the last three months. His jaw already clenched in irritation at his apparent inability to walk a few blocks without sitting down.

He eased himself onto the bench at the huge lion fountain, stretching the bum leg out beside him. He glanced up, brain fuzzy with pain. Managing to accomplish the usual blanket ignore of the human sea that ebbed and flowed around him, his eyes lit on a striking woman as she ripped the desk clerk a new asshole.

Dressed in a black pencil skirt and killer high heels, her auburn hair fell in waves halfway down the back of her crisp, cream blouse. She held a tablet computer in one arm and gestured wildly around with her other while the employee on the receiving end looked chastened. Ramon’s eyes traveled along the pleasant landscape of her curves, his hands gripping the bench’s edge with suppressed lust. He could almost feel the comfortable swell of her hip and ass under his palm. He tore his gaze away, shifting on the hard surface as his cock swelled under the loose training pants. He winced, conjuring Inge, the torturous bitch who pummeled him to keep his muscles from losing their tone.

When a hand gripped his bicep, he nearly fell backward into the fountain. A small voice yelped in his ear.

“Wow, is that really you? Mom! Mom! Hey, mom! Oh, my gosh, Mooooooom!”

The small, redheaded boy continued jumping up and down and screeching, his small hand clutching Ramon’s sleeve. His gut clenched at the sight of the boy’s shirt—a dark blue replica of his national soccer team jersey—and he’d be willing to bet the number seventeen adorned the back. He sighed, forcing away the nightmare memory of himself, lying on the pitch during the final game of the World Cup championship, his shin a white-hot center of utter agony. A compound fracture from a cleats-high, red-card foul had ended his career in a matter of seconds.

To his surprise, the woman who had provided him with the tent pole in his sweatpants appeared right in front of him, the toe of her black patent leather shoes tapping with impatience. He looked up, straight into a pair of the most beautiful deep green eyes he’d ever seen. But they weren’t happy to see him. She yanked the boy’s hand away and bent her knees to meet his eager face. He couldn’t help but grin as the kid kept staring, ignoring his mother in the way unique to small boys.

“Harrison Joseph Winter, leave the guests alone.” She gave him a nudge then finally gripped his chin and pulled his face to hers. “How many times….” She sighed when he wiggled out of her grasp and sat back down, short legs swinging.

When she drew up to her full height, the vision was stunning. He barely heard her speak at first, and had to consciously clamp his mouth shut. He hoped to hell he hadn’t drooled. The woman must be a former athlete of some sort. Easily six feet plus in four-inch heels, with a classically feminine shape, her toned legs, arms, and shoulders undisguised by the suit.

“I’m sorry, can you hear me?” He realized he’d been ignoring her as blatantly as the kid, who at that moment climbed up into his lap in excitement. He registered her tone as one usually reserved for small children or deaf uncles.

Bio:

Microbrewery owner, beer blogger and journalist, mom of three teenagers, and soccer fan, Liz lives in the great middle west, in a Major College Town.  Years of experience in sales and fund-raising, plus an eight-year stint as an ex-pat trailing spouse plus making her way in a world of men (i.e. the beer industry) has prepped her for life as erotic romance author.  When she isn’t sweating beer inventory, sales figures or promotional efforts for her latest publication, doing pounds of laundry for her sweaty athletic children, watching La Liga on the Fox Soccer Channel, or trying to figure out what to order in for dinner, she can be found walking her standard poodles or doing Bikram Yoga.  Liz loves her Foo Fighters Pandora station, and watching reruns of Deadwood, when there isn’t any decent European football on the telly.  If you want a beer education follow her: http://www.a2beerwench.com.  For writing related stuff, including her backlist, go to: www.brewingpassion.com.

She is the author of the critically acclaimed Turkish Delights trilogy from Decadent, also part of the 1NightStand series, and anticipates release of the prequel and follow-up novellas to the series in 2012.

She also wrote the Brewing Passion series for Breathless Press, which includes the “choose your own ending” romance novel “The Tap Room.”

Author photo includes Herself, in her beer bar, with her very own lovely soccer lads from Ann Arbor.

I want to thank Liz for bringing her soccer hunks to the Journal today. 🙂  Caught Offside sounds like a perfect blend of sports and romance that should score a winning goal with romance readers.  Congratulations on your release, Liz!