Release Blitz: Football Royalty by Eden Finley (exclusive excerpt & giveaway)

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Release Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway: Football Royalty By Eden Finley

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Franklin University Series, Book 8

If you never fooled around with someone of the same gender, did you even go to high school?


My whole life I’ve had the pressure of being Marcus Talon and Shane Miller’s football prodigy. I’ve been destined to follow in my NFL-playing fathers’ footsteps since the day I was born. I usually thrive under pressure, but as senior year looms, it all gets too much, and I need an outlet. The last place I thought I’d find my release is at Levi Vanderbilt’s graduation party. In his bed. With him.

It’s a one-time thing. An experimentation. And while it was fun, we agree that being with guys isn’t for either of us. I’m happy to accept that until he turns up in California.

I haven’t had to think about him for four years, but now I can’t get him out of my head.


Coming to Franklin University for grad school to follow a boy I hooked up with once is the stupidest thing I could have done.

We said that high school didn’t mean anything, but the truth is, that night made me realize who I truly am, and since then, I’ve been trying to find that sense of freedom again.

I’m hoping it can be with him, but everything I’ve heard around campus points to Peyton not having the same life-changing revelation I did.

And if that’s the case, did I just move across the country for a straight guy?

Kill me now.

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Exclusive Excerpt:

“We’re here.” Peyton walks up the short drive to an elevated beige-and-white clapboard home. “Are these steps really safe with all those parties you throw?” I follow him up to a terrace and then more steps to the front door. “We really should have thought of that, but we were kind of set on the view.” He nods behind me, and when I turn, there’s blue in the distance. “This way, we get the beach and the parties.” “And all the girls?” I ask, and no, I’m not very subtle. Peyton doesn’t answer. Damn him. He opens the door and gestures for me to go first. It definitely looks like two college guys live here. There are pizza boxes on the coffee table, shoes strewn around the room, red Solo cups everywhere, and it smells like dude. Not that I’m opposed to the scent of sweat and ball sac. In the right moments, that stench can be sexy. In this moment? The only thing keeping me in this room is Peyton’s insanely ripped body and his vivid blue eyes. Plus, the memory of his face when he came. “My room’s this way. I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He leads me to the room that sits over the garage, and it has that amazing view out the window. “How much did you have to fight your brother for this room?” “Not at all. His room at the other end of the house is bigger.” “Bigger than this?” It’s almost the size of my living room slash dining room. “Damn. Can I move in too?” Peyton tenses again, just like he did when I dared to mention the night we hooked up. Yep. He thinks I’m a stalker. “That was a joke, by the way.” “I know.” Peyton moves to a drawer, putting his backpack on the ground and his coffee on the dresser. A T-shirt is thrown my way, and then he opens another drawer and grabs me a pair of jeans. “Thanks for these.” I hold them up and drop my laptop bag. “No problem.” We stare at each other, neither of us moving. Hell, I’m not sure either of us is breathing. What we did that night four years ago was so impulsive, and even though we’d known of each other for years before that, my graduation party was the first night I’d been drawn to him. Or to anyone, really. I’d tried with girls, I really had, but I could never connect. Not like I did with Peyton. The air between us had the same tension that’s filling this very room—the same crackle of energy. I want to know if he feels it too, but I’m too chickenshit to ask. He clears his throat. “Uh, you can use my bathroom to change. And I can hold your coffee while you do.” I hand it over. “Thanks. Again.” “No sweat.” I cross the room and close the bathroom door behind me, leaning back against it as I look up at the ceiling and silently mutter to myself to hurry up and get dressed and then get out of here. I don’t know why I thought this reunion would be anything but awkward. It’s not like we’re long-lost friends. It’s not like our one night together wasn’t awkward as fuck. I should’ve expected this. I want to tell Peyton what I’m really doing here, but I can’t. I need to keep up my ruse in case it somehow gets back to my dad that I’m not where I’m supposed to be. Peyton’s dads and my dad are all public figures back in Chicago. They run in the same circles. The only difference between them is when the Talon-Millers throw a fundraiser for charity, it’s because they actually care. When my father does it, it’s because it’s a tax write-off. My shirt smells gross as I whip it off, and its fate has been sealed by the stain left behind. Death by coffee. It’s not the worst way to go. My pants go next, and then I pull on Peyton’s jeans. They’re a bit loose but shouldn’t fall off me. When I pull the purple FU Kings football shirt over my head, I still can’t believe I go to a school that has so much school pride none of the students care about wearing merch with fukings on it. And they’re all in on the joke by pretending they miss it completely. Either Peyton is a slow dresser, or he’s purposefully trying to kill me because when I open the door, he’s standing there, back to me, shirtless and only wearing low-hanging sweats. He has those hot as fuck dimples at the base of his spine, and I want to lick them. When I force my gaze away from his ass, I find him watching me over his shoulder. Oops. Busted. Moving on. “I should go and let you get to class.” Peyton folds his arms and leans against his chest of drawers, narrowing his gaze at me. “Okay, what’s your deal?” “My deal?” “I wasn’t going to ask, but none of this makes sense.” “What doesn’t?” “You being here.” “You … invited me here.” He’d have to know I’m being intentionally stupid. “Not my house, dumbass. FU.” “Fuck you too, asshole.” Peyton looks like he’s trying to hold back an actual laugh. “And on that note …” I pick up my bag off the ground and shove my ruined clothes in there next to my laptop. “I’m gonna go.” Peyton steps into my space. All six foot one of football player. He’s only an inch taller than me, but I still feel towered over. “Are you?” “Yup.” “You know, refusing to answer why you’re here makes me think it’s a big deal, and then I want to know more. It’ll be easier to tell me and get it over with.” I adjust my shoulder strap. “It’s nothing. I got sick of all the East Coast crap, and I remember being jealous of you for coming to Franklin. When it came to choosing grad schools, I guess yours sounded like the complete opposite to the Harvard pressure.” He rubs his chin. “Real nice. Come to Franklin U. We’re the opposite of Harvard because we’re all dumb.” “That’s not what I meant.” “Sure, it isn’t. Well, now that you’ve insulted me, you should feel guilty enough to tell me what I want to know.” I swallow hard. “What do you want to know?” He leans in, and he smells like coffee and fresh bodywash. My cock responds, and he’s not even touching me. Peyton’s standing so close that my growing cock brushes over his groin, and he looks down between us. He unleashes a smile so wide I begin to worry he’s going to mock me for getting turned on. Then all at once, he steps back, the spell is broken, but his smile remains. “Never mind. I think I got my answer.”
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Enter the Giveaway:

To celebrate the release of Football Royalty, Eden is giving away an eBook of winner’s choice from her published works!

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About the Author:

Eden Finley is an Amazon bestselling author who writes steamy contemporary romances that are full of snark and light-hearted fluff.

She doesn’t take anything too seriously and lives to create an escape from real life for her readers. The ideas always begin with a wackadoodle premise, and she does her best to turn them into romances with heart.

She’s also an Australian girl and apologizes for her Australianisms that sometimes don’t make sense to anyone else.

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