Sweeper

by Amy Daws

Genres: Romance; Contemporary Romance; Sports Romance; Sports Romance; soccer

Synopsis

The cocky footballer next door has some serious game…

luckily, Daphney Clarke knows how to play.

Zander Williams is the hot new American determined to take European football by storm. His head is so big, it barely fits under his backwards hat. And when he’s recruited to one of the biggest up and coming clubs in London, he’s certain to make his name known.

Managing the building where they live is only one of Daphney’s many jobs. It’s why she has zero patience for the obnoxious American on the other side of the wall who makes the most ungodly noises and likes to answer his door in nothing but a pink tea towel.

Tensions build and after one steamy hallway kiss, neighbor wars quickly shifts into neighbors-with-benefits and that’s a battle they both intend to win.

But Daphney doesn’t know the real reason Zander is in London and now she’s stuck in the middle of a game she didn’t even know she was playing.

Release date: October 7, 2021

Publisher: Amy Daws, LLC

Print pages: 328

Sample

“Sunday night was mortifying.” I shove my hand into my hair and realize I stuck my pen back in there before. My God, I’m giving him a lush view to feast on. “I don’t know what came over me. One minute, I was mad at you, and the next minute, I was—”

“Kissing the life out of me?” he finishes with a laugh and then reaches out to touch my arm. “I wasn’t mad about it.” 

“I was.” I jerk back, needing space between us because clearly, I’m not someone who can be trusted around the likes of Zander Williams. I cringe as I recall the stunned look in his eye when we broke apart for the first time, and I thought the kiss wasn’t consensual. What a horrible, horrible fear to even consider. “That wasn’t the way I wanted to start this.” 

His brows shoot into his hairline. “There’s a this?” 

“No,” I bark and expel a nervous seal-like laugh, moving even farther away. “Clearly not.” 

He moves with me, his hands reaching toward me again. “There could be a this.” 

“But I don’t want a this.” I do a small circle with my hand between us. “I want a that,” I say, pointing at my flat. “And a that,” I state, pointing toward the pub I work at across the street. “And I want to take care of this.” I point at the mouse trap and sigh heavily. “My plate is full, so this should not happen.” 

“What is this that you’re even referring to, Daphney? This doesn’t have to be something to add to your list of things that stress you out. This can be easy. This can be casual. In fact, casual is kind of my specialty.” He grips the back of his neck, and a look of nervous hope flits across his face. “Plus, we’re neighbors, so the convenience factor should not be ignored.”