Blog Tour + Excerpt + Review: "Not My Romeo" by Ilsa Madden-Mills

Today, I am very excited to participate in the blog tour celebrating the release of "Not My Romeo" by Ilsa Madden-Mills, book #1 of the Game Changers series. This funny, sweet, and emotional story featured well-developed, endearing, quirky characters and kept me turning the pages long past my bedtime. Main characters Jack and Elena both had a lot of emotional baggage to work through, but it was clear that they belonged together, and I found it very easy to cheer them on to their HEA.

Elena and Jack's chemistry was electric from the first time they met by mistake on Valentine's Day, and even though the last thing Jack needed was to risk a scandal, he couldn't resist bringing her back to his penthouse with him that very same night. He soon learned that Elena was unlike any woman he had ever met before, and nothing about their relationship unfolded as he expected it would. Jack was a very complex character, surprisingly shy given his role as a professional football player, but also very sweet and caring beneath his playboy reputation. I loved that Elena always stood up to Jack and refused to compromise what she believed in, and ultimately, they both ended up better off because of it.

 

Elena was also a very interesting and complex character. To most people in her small town, she was known as the conservative, bookish librarian who was always willing to take in a stray animal. She owned a pair of glasses for every occasion, including a "fancy" pair with rhinestones, and adored her teacup pig, Romeo. Secretly, however, Elena loved to design creative, sexy lingerie and dreamed of going to work in the fashion industry. She was afraid that her mother would be ashamed of her interest in lingerie, so she kept it to herself, especially after experiencing the disapproval of her ex-boyfriend, who later dumped her and started dating her beautiful younger sister, Giselle. 

The secondary characters in this book, including Giselle, were fantastic and added a tremendous amount of depth to Jack and Elena's story. I was prepared to hate Giselle for betraying her sister, but there turned out to be a lot more to the situation than was immediately apparent. Aside from her, Elena's Aunt Clara and her best friend/roommate, Topher, were a lot of fun, as was Jack's best friend/teammate, Devon. I hope that we will see many of these characters return in future stories.

Overall, I loved "Not My Romeo" and highly recommend it for all fans of contemporary romance and romantic comedy. I look forward to the next book in the series.

*ARC provided by the publisher via NetGalley. All opinions expressed are my own.

About "Not My Romeo"

Not My Romeo, the all-new swoon-worthy contemporary sports romance with heart and heat from Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills is available now!

We start off with a lie on Valentine’s Day.

My blind date isn’t the studious guy I expected: he’s a drop-dead gorgeous player with sinful amber eyes. Somehow we end up at his penthouse. I blame the gin and tonic.

The next day I learn he’s Jack Hawke—bad-boy professional quarterback with a murky past. The NDA he has me sign should be a warning that he isn’t a regular person. Please. I sign it Juliet Capulet, so goodbye, famous football player with abs of steel, and good luck tracking down this small-town librarian.

But Jack keeps showing up in places I least expect him. Just when I’m sure he’s gone, he waltzes into my community theater and wins the part of Romeo to my Juliet. How’s a plain, mostly innocent girl like me supposed to resist a man like him?

Is Jack my real Romeo…or will this gorgeous football player only break my heart?

Download your copy today or read for FREE in Kindle Unlimited! 

 

 

Read an Excerpt from "Not My Romeo"

I pull my white cat-eye glasses out of my purse and slide them on for a better look. My heart flip-flops as butterflies take flight in my stomach. Oh heck no. That can’t be him. He’s . . . he’s . . . freaking gorgeous, and I don’t mean regular handsome but like a movie star: dark hair swept off his face, the strands wavy and unruly with copper highlights, soft and silky brushing against his cheeks, and too long for a newscaster, in my opinion—but what do I know? I don’t own a television.

He lifts his arm to shove his hair back, and my eyes pop at the tightly roped muscles of his forearm and biceps straining through the fabric, the impossibly broad shoulders.

Well, would you look at that.

And this has to be him, right?

I’m in the right restaurant. He’s alone. He’s wearing a blue shirt. He has dark hair. Odds point to yes. Usually the most simple explanation is exactly what it appears. Therefore, he must be my date.

The man in question turns to look out the window, tapping his fingers on the table impatiently, and I take in his profile. Long straight nose, full dark arching eyebrows, and a sharp, bladed jawline. Sensuous lips, the lower one decadently full. Almost wicked. He’s the kind of hot that draws your eyes over and over just to make sure it’s not a mirage. I knew guys like him at NYU—sexy, athletic gym types who played a sport. And those types never gave me a second look. I’d watch them work out while I fumbled my way around one of those god-awful butterfly machines, while beautiful, tall, svelte girls who weren’t sweating fawned over them, bringing them towels, water bottles, and sexy promises.

He takes a sip of an amber liquid, long tanned fingers grasping the fragile container as his eyes rove across the room. They prowl around the restaurant, as if he’s assessing every person in sight, and I feel the sizzle of him even from twenty feet away. Prickles of awareness skate down my spine. I’m the alpha, his body language yells. Come and challenge me.

His gaze drifts right over me without stopping.

Not surprised.

I duck back into the shadows.

Dang it. My hands clench. I wanted nice and nerdy, not this . . . sexy beast!

And judging by the scowl on his face, he’s grumpy. Life’s too short to be dour, Mister. And what is he annoyed about? I am here!

And he did see a picture of me. Topher said so.

Yeah, maybe he doesn’t really want to meet you.

Maybe he’s hoping you won’t show up.

I tap my foot. I should leave. Really.

The smells of Milano’s waft around me, spicy and tantalizing, and my stomach lets out an angry howl. I move from one foot to the next. Every place to eat between here and Daisy is going to be packed. I could always hit a drive-through on the way back home—but how pathetic is a Big Mac and fries on Valentine’s Day? Plus, I’ll have my entire nosy family to answer to tomorrow. They’ve built up this blind date so much: Oooooh, Elena has a date with a weatherman. Ask him if that’s a barometer in his pocket or if he’s just glad to see you.

I give myself a mental pep talk.

Grow some balls, Elena.

Sometimes you have to go out and take what you want.

So what if he’s hot enough to suck the dew off a rose.

You are hungry. Do it for the pasta.

He is your date. Go get ’em, girl.

I gather my resolve, point my little black pumps in his direction, and start marching.

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