Blog Tour (Book Review, Excerpt & Giveaway): The Player and the Pixie by L.H. Cosway and Penny Reid

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Title: The Player and the Pixie
Authors: @LHCosway and @ReidRomance
Reviewer: Ivy @PoisonIvy70
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Sports, Humor

Rating: 5 stars

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Purchase: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon
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Synopsis

How can someone so smokin’ hot be so bad in bed? I mean, Sean Cassidy is absolute rubbish.
RUBBISH. He is the epitome of walking, talking false advertising and I want a refund!

Plus he’s an arsehole. So… what is wrong with me that I can’t stop thinking about him?

The Pixie and the Player is a full-length, romantic comedy novel, can be read as a standalone, and is the second book in the Rugby Series.

THE PIXIE

Lucy Fitzpatrick doesn’t like rugby.

As the little sister of Ireland’s most infamous rugby player, Lucy can’t seem to escape the championship-sized shadow cast by her big brother, or her mother’s frequent attempts to micromanage her future. Her rainbow hair is as free-spirited as her quest for inner peace, yet overbearing expectations keep bringing her down. And when she’s down, her compulsive little problem lands her in seriously big trouble.

THE PLAYER

Sean Cassidy is a cold-hearted brute… or so he’s been told. Frequently. By everyone.

His blonde locks, baby blues, and rock hard bod make ladies the world over drool with desire.

As the rugby world’s second most infamous player, he should be basking in his success. But Sean has never been content settling for second place, and his frequent confrontations with Lucy’s big brother leave him cold. And when he’s cold, his compulsive little problem lands him in the lap of Lucy Fitzpatrick.

THE PLAN

Sean has a problem only Lucy can solve. Lucy has a problem only Sean can fix. The solution seems obvious: you scratch my back, and I’ll bail you out of jail. But when their business arrangement unexpectedly leaves Sean scorching hot and Lucy on the precipice of inner peace, can they convince the world—and Lucy’s big brother in particular—that this is the real deal?

Either way, both the Player and the Pixie are about to teach each other some pretty monumental lessons about family, life, but most importantly, love.

Ivy

description

The Lowdown: The second book in the Rugby romance series features Lucy Fitzpatrick, the sister of the hero in the first book, Hooker and the Hermit.  Now Lucy has a problem. A wee sticky fingers kind of problem. When she’s stressed she tends to steal things. Her anxiety builds and her fingers wander. Until she gets busted. By her brother’s archnemesis, Sean “The Player” Cassidy, no less. Now Sean’s hated Ronan “Mother” Fitzpatrick (Lucy’s brother) for a long while and takes every opportunity to mess with his head. When he sees Lucy’s five finger discount shopping, he figures this is his way of irritating Ronan, but underneath it all, he’s really intrigued by this rainbow-haired waif, and blackmails her into a date. That’s when the fun, and the romance, happens.

Kindred spirits: On the surface, you wouldn’t think that Sean and Lucy would have alot of things in common, but both of them have dealt with judgmental, affection-withholding family members all their lives, so they understand what it’s like to long for acceptance. I loved the time and care Ms. Reid and Ms Cosway have taken with writing this follow up. The pacing is crisp, the humor is on point, and there’s a good foundation for these characters and their emotional issues. I loved the scenes that showed their messed up family dynamics, and gave the reader a great glimpse into their issues with intimacy. Well, the emotional kind first, then…

Sean takes instruction well: Sean is a big, gorgeous, rugby player. Six and a half feet of muscle and brute strength, he’s not a delicate boy. Now, imagine this man, who all his life, women have thrown themselves at him, hoping to be able to say they had sex with the Player. No one ever bothered to show the man what a woman wants, and boy does it show when Sean finally hooks up with Lucy.

I thought Sean’s lack of “skills” in the bedroom is refreshing,  understandable and I adored that once he realizes that Lucy is willing to take the time and show him, he becomes a stellar student. His willingness to do anything to please her in the bedroom, and the pleasure he derives from pleasing her was wonderful. Plus, he’s not afraid to state what he feels, when he feels it. His openness and vulnerability with Lucy, yet keeping that intelligence and snarky humor, ticked so many boxes for me that I’m officially taking him under my wing and adding him to my BBF stable for further instruction. Lordy.

Loosey Lucy a great match for Sean: With her rainbow hair and sweet disposition, Lucy’s a heroine that’s easy to like. Her hesitancy with Sean and considering what a butthead he is with Ronan, I couldn’t blame her. Her loyalty to her brother was believable and gave some decent angst to their relationship. I loved her friendship with Broderick, as well as with Annie, the heroine from the first book. Lucy tries to be a good person, even with her harpy of a mother running her down every chance she gets. Knowing that she’ll always be second best in her eyes is something that gave a foundation to her klepto tendencies. I also loved that there was no quick fix to this issue and it plays out in a realistic manner.

Who will be next?: I have no idea, but the writers have quite a few characters to choose from. I’d love to see more of any of the rugby players though there’s a few others I’d like to get to know better. Broderick is Lucy’s BFF, and he doesn’t play, and neither does Tom (Ronan’s BFF) but can we make that happen anyway? #hoping

description

With a fresh take on the “player” stereotype, The Player & The Pixie has shot up to the top of my fave reads this year. I loved Sean and Lucy as individuals and as a couple. I liked the first book, but I loved this one and I can’t recommend it enough for those who love humor and sports with their romances. I can’t wait to see what’s next.

– Ivy

*An ARC was received for an honest review.

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Excerpt

 

 

*Sean*

I didn’t know what I was doing.

Requests, things I wanted, words I would never speak or allow myself to think were now uncontainable.

It’s the sex, I reiterated. Again. I’d used this explanation, now on repeat, as a simple justification for the complex cacophony of my mind.

“Be with you?” Her long, dark lashes fluttered, beating like distressed butterfly wings against warming pink cheeks.

I licked my lips, tasting her there. “Yes.”

She stared at me, confused. I was also confused. And oddly frightened.

Because it wasn’t the sex.

Several seconds ticked on as we studied each other in breathless silence. She found her voice before I did. “What does that—”

“Lucy?” Annie’s voice was paired with a soft knock on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”

I opened my mouth to whisper a clarification to the question Lucy hadn’t quite posed, because I was compelled to tell her it wasn’t the sex. We didn’t have to have sex. We could just . . . talk. Or play cards. Or touch. Or look at each other from across the room.

We could merely be together.

But she covered my mouth with her hand. Her features arrested with unmistakable panic.

“Yes. I’m fine! I just . . . started my period is all. Made a mess in my jeans, like a crime scene.” Lucy hollered in response then grimaced. She immediately mouthed I’m sorry to me. Her cheeks flushed red.

I lifted an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes, ducking her head with obvious embarrassment. I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t laugh.

Issuing me a quelling look, Lucy released me and skittered out of the stall, whispering, “Stay here and count to three hundred.”

“Oh! Do you need anything?” Annie’s voice was less muffled and I surmised she’d opened the bathroom door.

“Ah, no. Have it all sorted now. Thank God Tom has these nice absorbent napkins instead of those troublesome hand driers. Although I feel like I’m wearing a nappy. They’re bad for the environment, so I should talk to him about replacing the napkins. Maybe make a few available for emergencies . . .”

Lucy’s anxiety-riddled chatter faded as the bathroom door clicked shut.

I released an audible exhale. My heart was beating as though it might leap from my chest. I needed to catch my breath. Neither had anything to do with being caught.

What the fuck were you doing?

It was the sex. She’s phenomenal in bed. You’ve never had that before. It was just sex.

I nodded, reiterating the logic of my justification for the uncharacteristic behavior. If I repeated it enough, perhaps I would believe it.

I didn’t count to three hundred as instructed. I counted to one hundred and twenty-three, then realized what I was doing.

“Yes. I’m fine! I just . . . started my period is all. Made a mess in my jeans, like a crime scene.” Lucy hollered in response then grimaced. She immediately mouthed I’m sorry to me. Her cheeks flushed red.

I lifted an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes, ducking her head with obvious embarrassment. I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t laugh.

Issuing me a quelling look, Lucy released me and skittered out of the stall, whispering, “Stay here and count to three hundred.”

“Oh! Do you need anything?” Annie’s voice was less muffled and I surmised she’d opened the bathroom door.

“Ah, no. Have it all sorted now. Thank God Tom has these nice absorbent napkins instead of those troublesome hand driers. Although I feel like I’m wearing a nappy. They’re bad for the environment, so I should talk to him about replacing the napkins. Maybe make a few available for emergencies . . .”

Lucy’s anxiety-riddled chatter faded as the bathroom door clicked shut.

I released an audible exhale. My heart was beating as though it might leap from my chest. I needed to catch my breath. Neither had anything to do with being caught.

What the fuck were you doing?

It was the sex. She’s phenomenal in bed. You’ve never had that before. It was just sex.

I nodded, reiterating the logic of my justification for the uncharacteristic behavior. If I repeated it enough, perhaps I would believe it.

I didn’t count to three hundred as instructed. I counted to one hundred and twenty-three, then realized what I was doing.

“You’re mad, Sean,” I muttered, shaking myself and promptly leaving the ladies’ room. I checked the cufflinks on my dress shirt—a nervous habit—and strolled back to the table, eyeing the assortment of eejits gathered.

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About

L.H. Cosway

L.H. Cosway has a BA in English Literature and Greek and Roman Civilisation, and an MA in Postcolonial Literature. She lives in Dublin city. Her inspiration to write comes from music. Her favorite things in life include writing stories, vintage clothing, dark cabaret music, food, musical comedy, and of course, books.

She thinks that imperfect people are the most interesting kind. They tell the best stories.

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Penny Reid

SEX! It all started with sex, between my parents. Personally I don’t like thinking about it, but whatever works for you is a-ok with me. No judgment. The sex happened in California and much of my life also occurred in that state until I moved from the land of nuts (almonds), wine, silicon… boobs, and heavy traffic to the southeast US. Like most writers I like to write, but let’s get back to sex. Eventually I married and gave birth to 2 small people-children (boy-6, girl-4 as of this writing).

By day I’m a biomedical researcher with focus on rare diseases. By night I’m a knitter, sewer, lino block carver, fabric printer, soap maker, and general crafter. By the wee hours of the morning or when I’m intoxicated I love to listen to the voices in my head and let them tell me stories. I hope you enjoy their stories.

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