Jane Sebastian is perfectly satisfied living on Green Bay as a reclusive writer, managing her best friend's writing career, until one retired Packer invades her sanctuary and shows her how full life can be. She's finally found the hero of her dreams, with one small complication, he's engaged to her best friend. Tight end Bobby Goodison is in love with a wonderful woman. She makes him feel ten feet tall, and she deflates him when he gets too full of himself. She's feisty and funny--but not the woman who wears his ring. All bestselling author FantaCee wants is the homage she deserves after slaving for years to gain recognition. And attention she gets on her thirty day book tour--an unlimited supply of men, booze, and drugs. Fanny doesn't mean to hurt anyone, especially her best friend or her handsome fianci, but she'll do anything, including breaking the law, to ensure her spot on the bestseller list. Amid the maze of secrets and betrayals, can any of the three find lasting love?
A Hard Shell Word Factory Release
Liz Hunter has been spinning tales all her life and saw her first book, a romantic suspense published in 2001. She’s a member of Romance Writers of America, Wisconsin RWA, The Golden Network, EPIC, Books We Love and Jewels of the Quill.
A finalist in the prestigious Golden Heart Contest, The Fabulous Five, the Lories, Golden Network and EPIC contests, her stories consistently garner four and five star reviews. She lives in Madison, Wisconsin.
"...the author gets my emotions going and the book wouldn't be a book without a witchy woman, so automatically that makes the book above average. If you like Wisconsin (my hubby is from there, so I guess I do) and a little bit of Green Bay Packers hotness (I definitely like that), you will appreciate PLAIN JANE AND HER TIGHT END. Chances are, you won't like the witch though, either."Shannon Johnson -- romancereaderatheart.com
4 1/2 Hearts
"This is a very engrossing and well-written story. The characters are vivid and realistic. I found myself liking Jane, angry at Fanny, and frustrated with Bobby. I really enjoyed the neighbors and their friends also. The love scenes are vivid and searing. The reader finds herself rooting for Jane and Bobby, and hoping that Fanny will find her comeuppance. The twists and turns in the story really keep the reader involved. Jane's personality develops from an insecure, reclusive, one-dimensional person, to a well-rounded woman with friends and a life outside of her laptop. Fanny's downward spiral is fascinating. This is a wonderful novel that I read in one sitting."Maura Frankman -- The Romance Studio
"Not your typical romance, this tale is as much about Fanny and her problems as it is about Jane finding herself and true love. While Fanny's exploits are self-centered and destructive, readers will root for Jane and Bobby."Karen Sweeny-Justice -- Romantic Times Book Club
FINE HAIRS PRICKLED the back of Jane Sebastian's neck. She shivered and eased back from her laptop, glancing uneasily across the redwood deck and grassy slope to the water of Green Bay. No danger lurked there as far as she could see.
No help, either.When had dusk fallen? She'd been so wrapped up in her manuscript, she'd lost track of time. Last thing she remembered was her neighbor popping in with a casserole. That was how long ago, two, three hours?
Behind her. A presence. Definitely emanating from behind her, inside the house.
Run, a voice inside her commanded.
Stay, the voice of unreason argued. How dare someone trespass on my privacy?
Rising from the frosted glass patio table, she crossed to the corner of the deck where she'd propped the shovel that morning after she'd planted the spreading junipers. Armed and dangerous, in mind if not reality, she tiptoed back to the open French doors and peeked around the corner into her home. A shadowy figure, menacing in size, was headed straight for her.
"Oh my God, oh my God," she chanted, her breath erratic. Too late to run now. Her knees would buckle anyway, if she tried. Ducking back, she lifted the shovel over her shoulder. She drew a deep breath, rasped with fear, and just as he crossed the threshold, she swung. With a mighty wallop, she hit him square in the chest.
A deep, satisfying "oomph" escaped him. She raised the shovel once more. Halfway on its path to the crown of his head, he reached up and caught the handle, whipped it right out of her hand. It skittered across the deck.
Jane dove for her lost weapon.
A squeak of protest was all she managed before he tackled her. With her struggling body pinned effectively under one rock hard arm, she was helpless, her adrenaline draining away into sheer terror. She twisted her head to reach his arm with her teeth. Impossible. A whimper escaped, low and pathetic to her ears.
Her intruder spoke for the first time. "Jane Sebastian, I presume?"
The deep voice laced with amusement startled her. Burglars didn't normally consider whacks in the chest a source of amusement, did they? Heart pounding, she studied the stranger in the near dark, struck by a sense of familiarity. She'd seen those dancing baby blues and the short cropped toffee hair somewhere before. Though he didn't smile, she knew dimples would appear when he did. A rich, masculine after-shave mixed with the scent of pine from a nearby tree. "Do I know you?"
"Bobby Goodison. Tight end." A total lack of recognition prompted further explanation. "You ever hear of the Green Bay Packers?"
"You're a football player?"
"Was is the operative word. Retired, end of last season. Spent too much time in the position you're in right now."
As if realizing he still had her pinned, in one smooth motion he swung to his feet and offered a hand up.
Once upright, she swiped at the back of her jeans and smoothed her dark hair back over her shoulders, taking the opportunity to size him up. He looked like a football player, not so much in height or bulk, but in sheer muscle. The neck on him rivaled many of the tackles she saw around town. Though Jane herself stood five foot ten, he dwarfed her. "I don't understand what an ex-football player is doing sneaking through my living room."
"I wasn't sneaking. Your neighbor said to come right on in, that you were probably wrapped up in your writing. She also said you were a bit eccentric. Can't imagine why."