Sara Ney

EAT. SLEEP. FOOTBALL. Those are Jackson Jennings, Jr’s three mantras . His entire life, he’s been a trained athlete with only one end-game: the Pro’s. No girls. No parties. No alcohol. EAT. SLEEP. FOOTBALL. Repeat. Every Friday night, Triple J cruises the strip on campus, bored, lonely and conditioned not to party. But the night he meets Charlotte Edmonds on the side of the road, he wonders if his three mantras will ever be enough. BIG. DUMB. JOCK. Charlie has no time for Jackson’s antics. Not when he’s stealing her food or teases her to no end, making her tingle in all the right places. But if she’s ever going to have a boyfriend, she’d choose one who isn’t a Neanderthal. One with manners and actual time to spend with her. Not a hulking man-child who cruises the strip at night, in his Big. Dumb. Truck.

Piper has been crushing on Ryder Williams for years.. What better chance to make her move on him than when he’s sacrificing himself on an auction block for a squealing mass of fans at a charity event? Too bad she’d rather hide in the bathroom than raise her paddel; what girl actually bids on a guy who doesn’t know she exists? Not. Piper. But that's what friends are for... One meddling best friend, and an overpriced bid later, and Ryder Willams is Piper's for the taking. Too bad that she has no intention of collecting on his debt. Too bad Ryder is determined to find out why. NOTE:: Switch Bidder is a SHORT #JockHard Novella, at 10,000 words. Aka: Short Novella.

ABRAHAM DAVIS—Honest Abe to his friends—IS IN OVER HIS HEAD... He’s a fixer and a do good-er. The all-knowing, resident "grandfather" on the wrestling team who everyone relies on to fix their problems. His teammates go to him for everything; advice, homework, or when they need a sober driver at three in the morning--whether he likes it or not. Abe’s current mission is easy: mend his roommates broken heart by helping him find a girlfriend on the LoveU app--without getting caught in the lie... SKYLAR GABRIEL. IS. OVER. IT. Over her bad grades. Over her meddling older brother and his two best friends. And over dating douchebags. What she wants to know is: where have all the nice guys gone? She longs for a handsome, sweet, and honest guy who can make her laugh. In one last ditch effort to prove that he exists—Skylar turns to LoveU. On her worst day, Skylar has no filter (it’s a miracle she hasn’t been ditched mid-date). On her best, she’s as wholesome, and sweet, as pie. On Thursday? She matches with Abraham Davis’s roommate. Skylar Gabriel is falling for the wrong guy—she just doesn’t realize it yet. Why? BECAUSE ABE DAVIS IS A LIAR.

I knew something was wrong the second she walked in the door tonight; I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was.   Same hair color. Same legs. Same face.   Except… I look harder. At the small dimple beneath her lip that wasn’t there the last time we went out. And her laugh — that laugh isn’t as loud.   This isn’t the girl I’ve gone out with the past few weeks. It’s her twin sister, and they’ve switched places on me.   Only I’m not quite ready to let them switch back. Originally published as part of TEAM PLAYER: AN ANTHOLOGY.

Dear Mister...**strike out** no, too formal. Hey there sweet cheeks *strike out* no, too forward. To whom it may concern, Full disclosure; before we move forward with this email, I would like it to be known that I have consumed an adequate amount of alcoholic beverages to intoxicate myself tonight. Three margaritas, two shots, and one beer—because it was free. I think it’s important to be open and honest with your co-workers, don’t you? So here I am, being honest. Drunk but honest. Or just drunk with lust? You decide. I like you so much it’s clouding my judgment and making me do things I never would sober. Like write this letter. I have a hopeless, foolish, schoolgirl crush on you when you are the last person on earth I should be falling for. Did you know people around the office call you a sadist? An egomaniac. An insensitive, arrogant prick. Your bark is worse then your bite, and you don’t scare me. The fact is, I’d love that bite of yours to nip at my bare skin while we’re both wearing nothing but sheets. For once I want you to look at me as more than one of your employees. And as long as we're being honest, that navy blue suit you wear? With the crisp white shirt? It really makes me want to loosen your tie and show you who’s boss. Love, Sincerely, Yours.

He's not a douchebag; but that doesn't stop his friends from turning him into one. MY FRIENDS WANT ME TO GET LAID. So much so that they plastered my ugly mug all over campus, in bold printed letters: Are you the lucky lady who's going to break our roommate's cherry? Him: socially awkward man with average-sized penis looking for willing sexual partner. You: must have a pulse. He will reciprakate with oral. Text him at: 555-254-5551 The morons can't even spell. And the texts I've been receiving are what wet dreams are made of. But I'm not like these douchebags, no matter how hard they try to turn me into one. THIS ISN'T THE KIND OF ATTENTION I WANT. One text stands out from hundreds. One number I can't bring myself to block. She seems different. Hotter, even in black and white. However, after seeing her in person, I know she's not the girl for me. But my friends won't let up--they just don't get it. Douchebags or not, there's one thing they'll never understand: GIRLS DON'T WANT ME. Especially her.

Scarlett is always the sensible one: The sober driver. The planner. The one holding your hair back while you're worshiping the porcelain gods. Week-after-week, she visits Jock Row with her friends—the universities hottest party scene and breeding ground for student athletes. And if keeping her friends out of trouble, and guys out of their pants, was a sport, she'd be the star athlete. Being a well known jock-blocker gets her noticed for all the wrong reasons; just like that, she's banned from Jock Row. NO GUY WANTS A GIRL AROUND WHO KEEPS THEIR JOCK FRIENDS FROM GETTING LAID. "Rowdy" Wade is the hot shot short-stop for the universities baseball team—and the unlucky bastard who drew the short straw: keep little Miss Goody Two-Shoes out of the Baseball House. But week-after-week Scarlett returns, determined to get inside.

Kip Carmichael is no pretty boy. He's a rough. Dirty. Giant. Hair so unruly, and a beard so thick, his friends on the team call him Sasquatch. The first time Sasquatch lays eyes on Theodora "Teddy" Johnson across the keg at a party one night on Jock Row, she'd been relegated to the sidelines by her jock hungry "friends." Week-after-week, he watches beautiful but bashful Teddy getting overshadowed, and overlooked. Sasquatch finally broad shoulders his way through the crowd, offering to to be her hairy godmother. But the minute their eyes meet? He's a goner. Teaching her the RULES for winning a jock will be the easy part. Not falling in love with her is going to be a losing game.

CRUDE. ARROGANT. A**HOLE. No doubt about it, Sebastian ‘Oz’ Osborne is the university’s most celebrated student athlete—and possibly the biggest douchebag. A walking, talking cliché, he has a filthy mouth, a fantastic body, and doesn’t give a sh*t about what you or anyone else thinks. SMART. CLASSY. CONSERVATIVE. Make no mistake, Jameson Clarke may be the university’s most diligent student—but she is no prude. Spending most of her time in the hallowed halls of the library, James is wary of pervs, jocks, and douchebags—and Oz Osborne is all three. She’s smart, sarcastic—and not what he expected. …EVERY DOUCHBAG HAS HIS WEAKNESS. He wants to be friends. He wants to spend time with her. He wants to drive her crazy. He wants… Her.

THERE ARE NO DOUCHEBAGS IN THIS STORY. Well, there are, but they’re not who this story is about. This story is about me—the coach’s daughter. When I moved to Iowa to live with my dad, the university's take-no-prisoners wrestling coach, I thought transferring would be easy as pie—living with my father would be temporary, and he'd make sure his douchebag wrestlers left me alone. Wrong on both counts. ASSHOLES ALWAYS COME OUT OF THE WOODWORK WHEN THE STAKES ARE HIGH. A bet is placed, and I'm on the table. After one humiliating night and too much alcohol, I find the last nice guy on campus. And when he offers to rent me his spare bedroom, I go all in. It’s time for the nice guy to finish first. Midnight chats and spilling my problems turn to lingering touches. Lingering touches turn to more. And the ultimate good guy has the potential do more damage than any douchebags ever could.

Zeke Daniels isn't just a douchebag; he's an a**hole.  A total and complete jerk, Zeke keeps people at a distance. He has no interest in relationships—most a**holes don’t.  Dating?  Being part of a couple? Nope. Not for him. He's never given any thought to what he wants in a girlfriend, because he's never had any intention of having one. Shit, he barely has a relationship with his family, and they're related; his own friends don’t even like him.  So why does he keep thinking about Violet DeLuca?  Sweet, quiet Violet—his opposite in every sense of the word. The light to his dark, even her damn name sounds like rays of sunshine and happiness and shit. And that pisses him off, too.