Are there second chances in the Game for Love?

Have you heard of Kindle Worlds? You can read
more about it here, plus see the worlds that are available
for you to write in and to read about! Kindle Worlds is this very cool concept
where we get to write stories set in the worlds of fabulous authors like Bella
Andre, Lucy Kevin, Barbara Freethy, and more. Think of it as fan fiction! Bella Andre has opened up the world of her bad boys of football. If
you haven’t read any of her football books, try Game for Love, in which the Kindle World is set. This is
the world I’ve written in. Bella’s “world” launched on Thursday, and already my
story, Not in the Game, is #3 in Kindle Worlds Romance! Thanks so much
to Bella Andre for asking me to be part of her launch!! Thanks to Rae Monet
for the fabulous cover! Also try Game On
by Cat Johnson. As part of Lucy Kevin’s Four Weddings and a Fiasco world, try The Wedding
Date by Katy Regnery. And don’t miss Barbara Freethy’s
The Callaways with It’s Only Love
by Carol Grace!

Here’s a blurb for Not in
the Game to whet your appetite!

Are there second chances in the game for love?

Mark Benedict had a major thing going for Carolina Hutchins
years ago. But that was high school, she’d been four years older than him, and
she hadn’t even known he was alive. At least that’s what he thought.

Now he’s found her again. And this time he’s a game-winning
running back with a Super Bowl ring and a hell of lot more to offer. Only
problem, she’s on the rebound from a bad divorce and thinks all men are like her
ex-husband.

Can he convince this gorgeous woman to take a second chance
with him? Or, despite the attraction that flares between them, is letting
another man into her life for more than a night simply not in the game?

Let me give you an excerpt!

Game for Love: Not in the Game (Kindle Worlds Novella)

Jasmine Haynes Copyright 2014

Chapter One

“You want to jump out of the cake
at the bachelor party? You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not.” Carolina Hutchins had
never been more serious in her life. One week from tonight, she wanted to take
Deidre’s place and jump out of that cake.

“But…” Deidre looked her up and
down. “You’re thirty-eight years old.”

The rest of the sentiment was
implied rather than stated. And Carolina’s pretty roommate was right. Men
didn’t pay to see a thirty-eight-year-old woman dance her way out of a cake.
They wanted nubile young things like Deidre Morrow, petite, blond, buxom, with
a tiny waist the span of a big man’s hands, and the tender age of twenty-five.
Carolina was her opposite, tall, brunette, slender. And thirteen years older.

“Not that you’re not hot and all
for an—” Deidre cut herself off.

“For an old lady,” Carolina
finished

Deidre tssked. “You’re not old.”

“Just pre-menopausal,” Carolina
supplied instead.

As two single women at nine o’clock
on a foggy Friday night in April, they should have been on dates. Instead, they
were seated on their flower-print couch in the San Francisco apartment they’d
shared for almost a year, and consuming a bottle of wine. It wasn’t expensive
chardonnay, but not out of a box either. Their dateless state was by choice.

Deidre worked by day as an accounts
payable clerk at a San Francisco corporation, took college courses at night,
and burst out of cakes on weekends. Or played cop, nurse, dominatrix, whatever
the boss of her adult party entertainment company wanted her to play. She was
too busy to date. Carolina worked as an accounts receivable clerk at the same
company—where they’d met and decided to become roommates—and hadn’t dated since
her divorce two years ago.

“Don’t talk down about yourself,”
Deidre chided.

Carolina had to laugh; she was
supposed to be wiser. But Deidre was an old soul. She was working on a degree
in business and had decided she’d be a CEO of a Fortune 500 company by the time
she was forty. Carolina was sure she’d accomplish that goal.

“I’m not talking down,” she said.
“I’m stating a fact.”

Deidre made a face, which, on her,
was just another pretty aspect. “I don’t get why you’d want to pop out of a
cake for an entire football team. They could be a rough audience.”

“I want to meet Mark Benedict.” He
was the best man for his teammate Rich Moon, who played center, and had
arranged for Deidre to appear at the party.

“Ooh. Mark Benedict. One of the
NFL’s most eligible bachelors. I love blond-haired, blue-eyed hunks.” Deidre
studied her a moment. “There are probably easier ways to meet him.”

“I’d never get a chance to even be
in the same room with him.” A running back for the San Francisco Outlaws, he
was way out of her current league. As one of the higher-paid players, with
numerous advertising contracts and a Super Bowl ring, he had any number of
gorgeous young women willing to fawn all over him.

“So what’s the big deal about him?
After what your husband did to you, I’d think you’d run a mile from any
filthy-rich, good-time playboy type.”

Her ex-husband. Carolina had to admit she was still bitter. After
thirteen years of marriage, Pete had found a prettier and younger trophy wife.
And because of the prenuptial Carolina had signed—to prove she was marrying for
love, not money—she got nothing. He’d cheated on her, and she was rewarded with
exactly zilch. Not even the car she drove or the clothes and jewelry he’d
bought her. Turned out everything was in his name. If they’d had kids—Pete had
two boys by his first wife and said he was too old to want babies again—he’d
have stolen them, too, she was sure. She’d been such a starstruck idiot. She’d
thrown away her college education and given up her brand new accounting career.
By the time she went back to get a job, she wasn’t even in the game anymore. In
fact, it seemed a metaphor for her whole life. Not in the game. She was a clerk
when she should have been controller by now, or even VP of Finance. Instead,
she was taking refresher courses at the community college and starting at the
bottom again.

“I’m not interesting in dating Mark
Benedict.” She was done with dating, let alone relationships, for a very long
time. “But anyway, he’s different.”

Deidre tipped her head and raised
an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you know him.”

“I did, a long time ago.”

“Hmm.” Deidre chewed the inside of
her lip, pondering. “Well, you couldn’t have gone to high school with him
because he’s only thirty-four.”

“He went to school with my
brother.”

“Your brother?” Deidre emphasized.

Carolina poured another half glass
of wine for each of them. Her brother was a software engineer in Silicon
Valley. “Yeah. Lowell got in with a bad crowd when he started high school, and
it was Mark who helped him turn his life around.” She shuddered. “I’d hate to
think what he would have become. Mark introduced him to football. The game gave
Lowell purpose. He didn’t turn out to be one of the greats like Mark is, but
he’s got a good life, and I’m proud of him.” She’d always been grateful that
Mark had stepped in to provide the guidance Lowell needed. As his big sister,
that should have been her job, but she’d been away at university when it was
all going on. At least that was her excuse.

“So you just want to thank good old
Mark for what he did for your brother by entertaining him at his buddy’s
bachelor party?”

Carolina shrugged. “It would be
interesting to see him again.”

“Doesn’t your brother talk to him?
After all, they were friends.”

“They didn’t keep in touch.”

Deidre leaned forward to tap Carolina’s
temple. “Something’s going on up there. I don’t know what. But you’ve got an
awful lot of excuses for why you have to do it this way.”

“It was just a spur of the moment
thought when you said you were performing at the bachelor party he’s holding
for his friend.”

Deidre snorted. “You’ve never done
anything like this in your life. And I don’t even think you approve of what I
do.”

“That’s not true at all.” Deidre’s
performances didn’t go beyond stripping down to a bikini bathing suit. And she
didn’t do lap dances. She danced sexy, yes, but that was all. “I think it’s
great that you’re working so hard to put yourself through school.”

Deidre gave her a press-lipped,
knowing smile. “You better tell me what’s really going on or I’m not letting
you do it.”

“Fine. I’ll tell you. I was
attracted to him back then, okay. But he was in high school and I was in
college. And it’s not like I could even think about telling anyone how I felt,
let alone date him. And I just want to know now. If there’s still any hint of that
attraction.” She raised her hands. “He probably won’t even remember me.” What
she’d felt might have been mutual, but she’d never been sure. “And it is
a spur of the moment thing. I wouldn’t even have thought of him if you hadn’t
told me about the party.” Except that she had watched all the Outlaws’ games,
and she knew Mark’s stats.

Maybe a bit of it was also
curiosity as to whether fame and fortune had turned Mark into the kind of man
her ex-husband had been. Pete had used people for what he could gain from them,
then discarded them like empty husks.

Deidre waggled her eyebrows. “So
the ice queen is interested in a man.”

Carolina didn’t flinch at the
title. Deidre was actually poking fun at Pete, who’d called her an ice queen,
stating that his cheating was her fault because she was frigid. He’d
been the consummate liar. He probably had to use Viagra to entice the new
trophy wife. And he’d throw her away when she reached a mature age as well.
Carolina actually felt sorry for her.

“Okay, yes, I’m interested,”
Carolina agreed. “So help me out.”

Deidre pursed her lips, then
finally smiled until laughter spread across her face. “All right. But we’re
going to wow you up, lots of makeup,
really big hair.” She fluffed Carolina’s straight brunette locks that flowed over
her shoulders. “I’m thinking hair like Peggy from Married with Children.
Stand up.” She waved her hands.

Married with Children? Good
God. Carolina rose. In sweat pants and a T-shirt, she didn’t look like anyone’s
version of Wow.

Deidre stroked her chin,
considering, then clapped her hands. “I’ve got it. Black corset, leather pants,
and five-inch platform boots. You’re going to be a dominatrix. Snap your
flogger around a little, maybe give the groom a good spanking.”

Spank the groom? Carolina hadn’t
thought of the act she’d be required to put on. She’d only imagined the look on
Mark Benedict’s face when—if—he recognized. And if he didn’t, she’d at least be able to observe the kind of man
he’d turned into. That would certainly be no hardship on the eyes.

“A dominatrix? Is that what he
asked for?”

Deidre shrugged. “He wasn’t
specific. Just wanted some girl to dance around and entertain.”

“I don’t think a dominatrix would
jump out of a cake. That’s not their style.”

“This is fantasy,” Deidre scoffed.
“We can have our dominatrix do anything we want.”

This could actually be terrifying.
Her? In a corset and leather pants? “I don’t own anything a dominatrix would
wear.”

Deidre batted her eyelashes.
“That’s why we’re going shopping.”

Oh God, she was in for it now. Yet
despite the momentary terror, there was a certain appeal to the idea. What
would Pete have done if, instead of being his doormat, she’d brought out a whip
years ago? What if she’d taken charge and shown him what a real woman was
capable of? The thought had possibilities.

“The dominatrix is growing on me.”
She could take out her aggressions. Not that she’d actually cause pain. But
lording it over a bunch of men, oh yeah, definitely appealing.

“I can’t wait to see you all decked
out.” Deidre rubbed her hands together with glee as she made her plans. “Those
guys are going to eat you up.”

Not if Carolina ate them up first.

Stay tuned! I’ll be giving you another excerpt in the next
few days! Here’s where you can find Not in the Game: http://bit.ly/notinthegame