Fake Fiancée by Ilsa Madden Mills- My review ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

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             “Since the night I pulled you out of that car and brought life back to you, you gave life to me.”

 

 This book completely charmed me- the more I read the more I fell in love with Sunny and Max.

 The sizzling chemistry, the sexual tension and the bickering made the storyline perfect.

 Sunny and Max’s paths crossed when Sunny was seventeen and running away from home. She met her guardian angel one night and that same night, they both went their separate ways.

 3 Years later, Sunny is a student in an elite college and moved in a house across the street from the star of the campus, Mr Quarterback.

 Sunny is a strong willed character and Max is simply the man of your dreams.

 I loved Max from the start, he has everything and everyone at his disposal but that’s not what he wants or who he aspires to be. He is quite down to earth and endearing. He is so sweet and caring. His life is football and is determined to do everything possible to achieve his goal.

 When their worlds collide again, something happens, something magical.

 “If the universe wants us with one person, I dig it. I believe in fate,”

So when Max asks the girl next door to become his fake girlfriend it was only to help him to fulfill his goal and to help Sunny to get rid of her ex.

 “Just, if we do this, don’t fall in love with me. I don’t want anything serious.”

 Sunny is puzzled by Max’s proposal -Why on earth a guy like Max wants her, she doesn’t look like any of his exes- but for some reasons she accepts to play the game. Can she risk to put her heart on the line?

 Max never crumbles under the spotlight and remains aware of who he is and who he wants to become. His emotional attachment to Sunny was nothing short of extraordinary.

With her he made himself vulnerable and everything he worked for was put on the line to be with her.

 Sunny is not your typical YA heroine. She is strong and we see her grow into the woman she is meant to be.

 “She wore her scars like wings.”

 

I loved her independence, her sass and her backchat. The secondary characters were fantastic from Mimi to Tate.

 The dual POV , the conversations, the flashbacks were gold- in a nutshell Ilsa’s writing was addictive, smooth and touching at the same time.

 Loved it!

 

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Pretending never felt so good….

Fake Fiancée by Ilsa Madden-Mills is NOW LIVE!
ONLY $0.99 & Free on Kindle Unlimited.

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2laEuMc
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2lfrSjw
Amazon Paperback: http://amzn.to/2ldp4TS

Blurb

A new standalone romance from Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author Ilsa Madden-Mills…

They say nothing compares to your first kiss,
But our first kiss was orchestrated for an audience.
Our second kiss…that one was REAL.
He cradled my face like he was terrified he’d f*ck it up.
He stared into my eyes until the air buzzed.
Soft and slow, full of sighs and little laughs,
He inhaled me like I was the finest Belgian chocolate,
And he’d never get another piece.
A nip of his teeth, his hand at my waist…
And I was lost.
I forgot he was paying me to be his fake fiancée.
I forgot we weren’t REAL.
Our kiss was pure magic, and before you laugh and say those kinds of kisses don’t exist…
Then you’ve never touched lips with Max Kent, the hottest quarterback in college history.

Get ready for breathtaking kisses and dreamy football players…

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EXCERPT

Max stalked over to the barrier that divided the stands from the football field and jumped it. The fans went nuts as he brushed past them, some not even realizing it until he was down the aisle. The Jumbotron followed him.
“Good Lordy, what’s he doing?” Mimi asked, clutching at her chest.
“I don’t know,” I said rather weakly, taking the chance to study him the closer he came. He was beautiful, his shoulders impossibly broad. To add to the distraction, his helmet was in his hand and all that dark brown hair was flowing around his chiseled features as if he had a fan in his face. My Viking.
“He’s coming over here,” Mimi commented.
He was. But why?
I stopped breathing . . .right when he came to a halt in front of me and knelt down on one knee.
Eyes the color of a wild ocean gazed at me.
He took my left hand in his right one.
“Max,” I breathed, my heart fluttering.
He gazed up at me. “Sunny Blaine, will you marry me?”
The stadium went wild. In a daze, I looked up at the Jumbotron and felt like I was watching this happen to someone else. Camera phones flashed all around us.
My first clear thought was I’ll kill him.
Aloud, nothing came out but a faint wheeze. Clearly someone had stuffed a giant wad of cotton in my mouth. Clearly I needed something a lot stiffer to drink than this Diet Coke. Clearly my fake boyfriend was a freaking raving lunatic.
He sat his helmet on the ground next to my feet, reached inside it and pulled out a small black box.
No, no, no!
The box opened, and my stomach churned at the sight of the large round solitaire diamond ring that was nestled on the black silk. I blinked repeatedly to clear my vision.
With deft fingers, Max eased it out of the lining and slipped it on my left hand.
I stared down at it. Then back at him.
I was going to murder the hottest quarterback in the country.
Kiss her, Kiss her, the crowd chanted.
We were the focal point of the entire world.
Max stood and tugged me up with him until we were standing. He slid his hand around my neck and pulled his face to mine. The sky was blotted out as he kissed me.
But I hadn’t said yes!
I wouldn’t say yes.
Not to a fake engagement.
The applause of the stadium was deafening. And his kiss—it was deadly. Despite my rage, my body craved him. His lips were hot, so hot, and my tongue met his with a vengeance. We kissed hard, and I nipped at him, my teeth scraping across his lips. But the only one who’d end up bleeding in this scenario was me.
He eased back to take me in, and with a final look at my face he gave a thumbs-up sign to the entire stadium. They went nuts, chanting his name.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear, letting his hand trail down my arm as he stepped back from me. He walked away backward, eyes on me the entire time. The announcers for the game told everyone who might have missed it that Max Kent had just asked his girlfriend to marry him, and she’d said yes. More cheers came as they replayed him on his knee in front of me with a giant YES written across the top.
I plopped back down in my seat. Frozen.
“. . . did you see her face? Shocked . . .”
“. . . most romantic thing in football . . .”
“. . . luckiest girl in the world . . .”
My face went hot. Even my ears burned. I wanted to crawl under a seat.
God.
What a lie.
The half ended and our offense came out to the field, snapped the ball, and Max threw it straight to Tate who ran it in for another touchdown. My chest constricted and anger churned in my gut.
I didn’t care who won.
I hated football right now.
Most of all, I hated Max Kent, and I was going to make him pay.

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About the Author

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Wall Street Journal best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

She’s addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding females. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Ian Somerhalder, astronomy (she’s a Gemini), and tattoos. She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education. When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets and fuzzy pajamas.

She loves to hear from readers and fellow authors. Email her at ilsamaddenmills@gmail.com.

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