Thursday, September 7, 2017

Blog tour: Keeper by Amy Daws




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They were best friends until they became roommates.

KEEPER is NOW LIVE & Free on Kindle Unlimited!
**99cents for a limited time**



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Full Blurb
They were best friends until they became roommates.

Booker Harris has spent the last several years pushing himself to become the best goalkeeper in the Championship League. Tired of living in the shadows of his headline-splashing brothers, he has finally carved a path of his own.

As a child, Poppy McAdams was content in her own little make-believe world, until the boy next door with dimples and pained eyes came barreling into her makeshift fort demanding all her attention.

Best friends for most of their lives, everything changes when Poppy abruptly leaves London for University.

Now she is back, and gone is the awkward girl from Booker's youth. She has been replaced by a stunning woman with secrets.

Secrets that Booker is desperate to know.

Sharing a bedroom wall with your best friend from childhood quickly turns to anything but sweet and innocent.
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**Please choose ONE EXCERPT**
EXCERPT  ONE
“Did you go out a lot in Frankfurt?” I ask because I’m still curious to hear more about her time over there. “Did those German blokes you flirted with for tips show you a nice time?”
She twists her head to frown up at me, puzzling her brows at my random question. “Are we really going to talk about this?”
I shrug because, well, now that I’ve opened the can, I don’t really want to stuff it all back in. “Did you leave anyone behind broken hearted?”
“No,” she murmurs and a tense silence stretches out before us. “What about you? You have a girlfriend I should know about?”
I roll my eyes. “I wouldn’t have invited you to stay if I had a girlfriend.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because…look at you,” I scoff.
That tense silence returns, but this time I can hear her breathing. I can feel the rise and fall of her shoulders as she leans against me.
Her voice is soft when she asks, “What do you mean, look at you?”
I tug on my earlobe, feeling a stirring in my stomach that doesn’t have anything to do with the massive amounts of whiskey I consumed tonight. “I think it’s quite obvious, Poppy. You’re not merely a girl anymore. You’re…a woman. And that haircut. I don’t know. It just…suits you.”
She turns her head up and looks at me curiously. I return her gaze, noting the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed those before. She draws my eyes downward as she licks her lips and a warmth spreads between us.
All of the sudden, she sits up, pulling me out of the trance I have on her lips as she situates herself crisscross to face me. I inhale deeply as her hand slides into my hair right above my ear. “Looks like you could use a cut,” she croaks, combing through the thick locks. I expect her to pull away, but she lingers, her scent wafting over me. My eyes fall closed as she slices through every strand and traces her fingertips along the nerve endings on my scalp, massaging in slow, languid movements.
God, that feels good.
My head nods to the side as I slur, “I’ve missed you, Poppy.”
She exhales. “I’ve missed you, too, Booker.”
“No, I mean, I’ve seriously missed you.” Groaning from her touch, I add, “I put one of my lamps in your room. I know how you hate the dark.”
Silence ensues, so my eyes lazily open and find she’s watching me.
“I don’t know why I said that just now,” I husk.
Her hand falls away from my head, but I catch it with mine because, well, I’m not ready for her to stop touching me yet. I want to be close to her like we always used to be.
I slide my fingers between hers, loving the softness of her hands against the hardness of mine, the smallness of hers against the largeness of mine. She feels so good against my skin. I never want to lose Poppy again. I’ve missed having her near me like this.
Aching for more, I pull her to me. Her legs unfold as she tucks into my chest, one hand over my heart, the other still entwined with mine. She nestles into me like she did when we were kids and she’d been crying about one of the many animals that died at her dad’s clinic.
Pressing her nose into my chest, her shoulders rise as she inhales deeply. I can feel her warm breath through the fabric of my shirt and it feels good. Really good. I want her mouth to open so her breath goes from warm to hot. I want her lips to part, and I want to feel her tongue on my body. On me. Flesh against flesh.
I crook my finger beneath her chin and lift her face to mine. She looks beautiful. Familiar and comfortable, like a memory that I once lost. I lower my head so we’re eye-to-eye and softly brush her lips with mine. It’s a kiss of friendship. Of history. Of knowing someone so completely that you assume you know what their lips will taste like before you even touch them.
But I didn’t know.
I had no fucking idea.
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EXCERPT TWO
I manage to sneak up beside her as she’s chatting with Vi, and she jumps nearly a foot in the air when she lays eyes on me.
“Booker!” Vi yells, pulling my focus off of Poppy. She wraps me in a hug. “Fucking aces game, my love. That last save. It was amazing! I can’t wait to watch it on the highlights I recorded at home. Seriously, career best save by far.”
I smile sheepishly as everyone else gives me a pat on the back, but the one I’m most curious for a reaction from remains silent. When their attention turns to something Rocky does, I step toward Poppy and nudge her with my elbow.
“Hello.” My voice is quiet as I lean over her, inhaling her scent—a vast improvement from the sweat and dirt wafting off of me.
“Hello,” she replies, looking up at me as she frowns with a puzzled expression.  
I smirk as I continue to tower over her. “How’d you like the game?”
Her eyes fixate on my mouth as I lick my lips. As if in some sort of daze, she twitches slightly and swallows. “Good seats.” Her cheeks flame red.
This amuses me and I have to bite my lip to stop from laughing. Of all the things she could have said after never having seen me play, she comments on the seats. It makes me want to tackle her to the ground and tickle her until she admits how bloody good I am.
I quirk my brow. “That’s all you have to comment on?”
“Oh yeah, good game or whatever.” She flicks her wrist in the air like today is any old Saturday and she didn’t just witness my career best save.
This makes me snicker. She can be stubborn as a mule sometimes. Determined, I straighten my posture, looming over her even more now and trying to silently intimidate her into admission. I want to hear her fucking say it. I want to hear her say I’m great. I’m not usually a cocky sod. My ego isn’t one that needs constant attention. But fuck me, after a game like tonight, I can’t help but want praise from my best friend.
I pierce her with a challenging look. “Did you really just say whatever?”
Her tongue swipes across her glossy lips as I move in even closer. She starts twitching and murmurs so low I can barely hear her, “Are you seriously trying to keeper me right now?”



EXCERPT THREE
Locking secret eyes with Belle, I quickly unwrap my purple ice treat and pop it in my mouth. I lean across the counter so I’m only a foot away from Booker, who’s now watching my lips. “So, Booker”—I suck hard and then take a nibble, my tongue swiping out to catch the syrupy liquid on my lips—“Do you know anyone who might be good for me?”
“Good for you for what?” Booker asks, his face devoid of any humour as he stares at my mouth with heat in his eyes.
“For a date. I thought maybe a teammate of yours might be good because they are familiar with Tower Park. They could show me around the stadium after the wedding. Give me a tour.” I wink.
His face turns red. “You’re not taking one of my fucking teammates to my brother’s wedding.”
“Why not?” I ask innocently and then plunge the lolly back in my mouth, going deeper this time.
He frowns as he watches my lips. “Because if you want a bloody tour of Tower Park, I can give you one.”
Rolling my eyes, I reply, “Fine, he doesn’t have to give me a tour. But I’m out of touch with people since I left, and you have a gaggle of teammates, Book. Surely you know someone who wouldn’t hate to spend the evening with me.”
“Roan DeWalt would be fun for her!” Vi interjects, snapping everyone’s attention to her as she whisks something in a bowl.
Tanner pipes up next. “Over my dead body he’s coming to my wedding. I’ve finally stopped wishing dismemberment on the prat.”
“It was only a suggestion!” Vi peals, looking perplexed. “It’s just that I set him up with our cousin Alice and she loved him! Roan is a South African dreamboat.” She waggles her eyebrows at me and I can’t help but smile.  
Suddenly, Booker stands, his stool screeching on the marble floor as he pushes it away. “Not Roan. Not any Bethnal players. None of them would work. You’re not their type.”
I hear Vi suck in a breath of air, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Why not?” My jaw is tight with anger as my ice lolly drips, forgotten between my two fingers.
His fists clench on the counter. “Because I know you, Poppy. You’re not the kind of girl they’d go for.”
The way he’s acting gets right up my nose. I wanted to make him jealous, but that’s not what’s happening. He’s insinuating I’m not good enough for his mates, as if they’d never go for anyone like me. He doesn’t even know me as an adult. He’s pigeonholing me into the Poppy he thought he used to know. It’s complete and utter shit! “If you actually think I’m not good enough for your team—”
“They’re not good enough for you!” he shouts, interrupting me as he leans over the counter to get in my face. Booker eyes me hard, clearly not amused by my request. “No teammates, Pop. Not Roan. Not anyone. Got it?” His shoulders rise and fall as he pins me with the most aggressive face I’ve ever seen on him.
I can tell the moment he snaps out of it because his neck turns red and he looks around at his family, who are all staring at us with their mouths open. He shoves two hands through his hair as he turns on his heel and strides out the back door and into the garden.
It’s quiet in the kitchen as everyone sits there gobsmacked.  
“Wrong button,” Tanner quips and Belle elbows him in the ribs. I turn my red face to look at her and she nods with reassurance.
“I hope you girls know what you’re doing,” Vi says. Then she wipes her hands off and tosses the tea towel in front of me as she scurries out after Booker.



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Meet Harris TWINS  in Challenge & Endurance!
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About the Author

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Amy Daws is a lover of all things British and her London-based love stories bring the incredible city to life on every page. Read all about hot British men, hilarious heroines, and unforgettable and original ensemble casts that pull out all the feels. For more of Amy’s work, visit www.amydawsauthor.com
Instagram: http://instagram.com/amydawsauthor



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