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The highly anticipated Sequel to One Southern Night is here! Author Marissa Carmel has continued Kamdyn & Laney's story in
One Northern Morning
Alabama's golden boy has everything he's ever wanted.
He's smashed the school record for most passing yards, touchdown passes and completed passes during his college career. He is the winner of the Maxwell Award as the Nation's best all-around player, and is slated to enter the NFL draft. But even with all his success, he was unable to hold onto the one thing that was most important to him-Laney Summers.
Laney and Kam have long since gone their separate ways, but one Friday morning sports broadcasting class and an unforeseen threat to Kam's brightly shining future has these two back on a very familiar path. A path full of love and lust and unresolved feelings. A path where life-altering decisions have to be made, and questions need to be answered - like what's more important your heart or your career.
****WARNING THIS BOOK CONTAINS SOME ADULT SCENES*****
This ARC was given for an honest review.
Kam is the golden boy football star of Alabama. He's on his way to the NFL.The only problem is between the agents scouts and fans, there's not much room left for the love of his life Laney. Laney tired of being second calls it quits. Kam watches her walk away with his heart. Now in collage Kam and Laney are thrown back together. Will they be able to restore the connection between them when Kam really needs her back? or will they go there seperate ways again.
I really liked this book. It was just a little short for what I was expecting. Even with it being short there was alot packed into it. There was even a couple of twists I really enjoyed. Cant wait to read more.
I breathe in the spring air as I walk across campus. It’s early morning. Well, relatively. Being up at eight thirty is hellish for most college students but normal for me. I’ve already worked out, eaten breakfast, showered, and dressed. It’s just part of my routine—the routine I’ve followed since I stepped foot on this university three and a half years ago.
I walk into the communications building and find room 202. I stop short when I see the last face I ever expected to see sitting in the third row playing on her phone. Her hair is pulled up into a tight bun with a few tiny red streaks standing out against the deep dark brown. She’s wearing cutoff shorts, a black T-shirt, and white Converse. The sight of her actually makes my heart palpitate. It still stings when I think about the day we broke up. “Let’s call this what it is…quits.”
I never quit.
I walk up and quietly slide into the desk next to her. “Well, well, well…” Laney looks up with just her eyes when she recognizes my voice. I think she’s just as thrown as I am. “What is an architect major doing in an eight thirty a.m. sports broadcasting class? On a Friday, no less?”
She huffs and puffs as she cocks her head to look at me. “I needed a one credit class, and this the only one I could fit into my schedule.”
“Uh-huh. Sure it wasn’t because you just wanted to see me?” I purposely tease her.
“I can assure you, it wasn’t. If I wanted to see you, all I’d have to do is pick up the school newspaper, or go to their website, or turn on ESPN.”
“None of those things compares to being seen in the flesh.” I smile brazenly.
“Nope, you’re right about that.” She points to my neck.
“What?” I place my hand on the skin.
“Oh.” I chuckle.
“Same old Kam,” she remarks as the professor writes his name on the whiteboard in front of us. He’s very young, maybe mid-thirties, but dressed like a twenty-something frat boy—plaid polo, cargo shorts, and flip-flops. This class is going to be cake.
I sneak glances at Laney as we go over the syllabus. She looks older, more mature, but some attributes are still exactly the same—long silky legs, a plump, pouty mouth, and a perky rack. She’s still sexy as hell and as tempting as sin.
I try not to think about how her exotic perfume affects me as the professor glosses over each bullet point. It seems like he’s more eager for this class to be over than the students are.
At the forty-five minute mark, he calls it.
“Next week, have chapters one through three read and prepare to participate. Dismissed.”
I walk next to Laney as we slowly exit the room. “Partners for the final project?” I ask her.
She shrugs, considering. “Sure, why not. We can just report on you.”
“An interview?” I beam.
“I know how much you like to hear yourself talk,” she digs lightly.
“Wear a skirt for the Q&A. I like legs, too,” I banter back.
“Kam!” She smacks me on the stomach just as a guy with glasses and both hands gripping the straps of his backpack walks up to us. He doesn’t look happy.
“Hey.” He snakes his arm around Laney’s waist possessively and stares me down. Is this guy for real?
“Hey.” She smiles up at him. “Steve, this is Kam.”
“Yeah, I know who he is. Mr. Big Shot Quarterback,” he says, standoffish. He has an accent sort of like Laney’s. He’s definitely not from around here. “Ready to get out of here, Lay?”
“Lay?” I curl my lip. That’s the worst nickname ever.
Steve glares. I just eye him up like the dufus he is. Is she seriously with this guy?
“See you next week, Kam.” Laney sighs melodramatically.
I lean forward, encroaching on her personal space just to fuck with Steve. “Later, Lemon,” I rasp, winking arrogantly, then walk away.
Mr. All-Star athlete and resident bad boy. #7 quarterback on the field, and #1 player off.
Every guy at school wants to be him, and every girl at school wants to date him. Well, except Laney Summers that is. The sassy city girl is the only one immune to Kam’s clear blue eyes and arsenal of southern charm. But when a debilitating injury sidelines Kam’s future and ability to play football, it’s Laney who is tasked to be his tutor while he recuperates at home.
The chemistry between Kam and Laney is undeniable, and after months of ignoring what’s clearly evident, Laney gives in. Allowing herself one night with Kam, no strings attached, no commitment to speak of. Alone, under the stars, on the fifty-yard line, Kam and Laney set out to discover if what they have is real, or just one steamy southern night.
Marissa Carmel has loved writing ever since a young age. She has a duel degree in History and Political Science, but took as many creative writing classes in college as she could. She spent most of her twenties bartending which is where she met her husband and a multitude of interesting people. When she’s not reading or writing, she’s hanging out with her family, experimenting in her kitchen or doing yoga on the living room floor.