Chloe Morgan's Blog
August 15, 2023
LAST CHANCE FAN PRICING FOR VEGAS BAD BOYS BOX SET
GRAB YOUR COPY HERE /*! elementor - v3.15.0 - 09-08-2023 */.elementor-widget-text-editor.elementor-drop-cap-view-stacked .elementor-drop-cap{background-color:#69727d;color:#fff}.elementor-widget-text-editor.elementor-drop-cap-view-framed .elementor-drop-cap{color:#69727d;border:3px solid;background-color:transparent}.elementor-widget-text-editor:not(.elementor-drop-cap-view-default) .elementor-drop-cap{margin-top:8px}.elementor-widget-text-editor:not(.elementor-drop-cap-view-default) .elementor-drop-cap-letter{width:1em;height:1em}.elementor-widget-text-editor .elementor-drop-cap{float:left;text-align:center;line-height:1;font-size:50px}.elementor-widget-text-editor .elementor-drop-cap-letter{display:inline-block} Fan pricing will end soon for the Vegas Bad Boys Box Set. Grab it asap to not miss out on this fantastic deal!
August 10, 2023
A VEGAS BAD BOYS CHAPTER ONE…
As I entered the trailer at the Clover Oil Field on the outskirts of Williston, North Dakota, I dusted off my boots. “I’m taking a break,” I yelled at my crew in my gruffest voice. “Don’t bother me unless someone is on fire.”
I slammed the door so hard the walls rattled, stirring up the fine layer of dust that clouded the air and the office. It was impossible to keep the place clean. Everything was dusty, and it was so thick you could write your name on every surface.
I often wondered what was getting into my lungs, but there were worse hazards to worry about in the oil field I’d called my home for the past ten years.
I’d worked my way up to foreman after starting out as a floor hand, and while I had one of the best crews of damned fine men, there were always a few bad apples to make my morning rough. Like the lazy ones, the careless ones, the homesick ones. But worse than those guys were the types who liked to run their mouths. The big talkers, the prideful. Those were the ones who usually got the raw ass the easiest, and after an early morning, I just needed a break from them all, especially since we’d all been living on top of one another without a woman in sight for the past two months.
What better way than to call home and talk to my little girl, Mila? She was the only girl in my life other than my mother, and at five years old, she was the center of my universe.
Before I even dropped my ass into the chair, which again caused a cloud to rise around me, I pulled out my phone and hit the magic button. As I waited for my mother to answer the phone, I closed my eyes and imagined what my life would be like if I didn’t have my parents to help me.
Lord knew my sorry ex-girlfriend, Heather, wasn’t going to help. Not that she could do anything from a prison cell. She had gotten herself in a string of trouble. Drugs—both using and trafficking—writing hot checks, and even shoplifting. All while she was supposed to be caring for our daughter. While I worked hard to make a living, putting myself in danger so she didn’t have to, she chose to anyway. I guessed the life I had to offer wasn’t the excitement she wanted.
Who knew a one-night stand with the girl I’d crushed on in high school could lead to so much drama? When she ended up pregnant, I tried to do the right thing, and for a while, I thought it might work out. I’d go through it all again, the lying and the cheating, just to have my daughter.
It turned out that I wasn’t the only man in Heather’s life. Not that it shouldn’t be expected from a woman who blew her dealer just feet away from where our infant daughter was strapped into her car seat. And as if that wasn’t enough to make me want to kill her, she had to get caught doing it, becoming the talk of the town and the shame of my parents. That was when the cops found the pills in the car, the pills she had driven all the way across the border to get for her boyfriend, using my daughter’s car seat as a hiding place.
Before I could get another sick thought about killing the woman, my mother’s sweet voice came to rescue me from hell. “Zane!” she said, sounding surprised as if I didn’t call every single day at least twice. “How’s your day going, honey?”
“It’s going, Mom. Where’s that little angel? I sure need to hear her voice.” It had been a long stay at the man camp, and even though I wasn’t but an hour away, I couldn’t leave my post. Not until the job was done.
“She’s trying to talk her Pop-pop into giving her real paints. He’s trying to figure out a way to get out of that one without caving in and making you mad at him.”
I laughed. My Mila could drive a hard bargain. “Tell him good luck. He’ll need it.” He didn’t stand a chance.
“I think he’s hoping you’ll be the bad daddy and tell her no so he won’t have to. He’s already given up on Bad Nana.”
“I’ll talk to her about it.” I could already hear Mila giggling in the background.
“Here she is,” said my mother.
Mila got on the phone, and her sweet voice was like the clouds parting on a rainy day. “Hey, Daddy. Are you taking a break?”
I scratched my stubbly chin. “You know it. I had to call my girl and make sure she’s not trying to talk her Pop-pop into buying her real paints when she knows she’s only supposed to use crayons and finger-paints.”
“But I drew a masterpiece, and my finger-paints didn’t come with magenta.”
“What do you know about magenta?” I asked. Shouldn’t her color options be limited to primary at this stage in life?
“It’s like hot pink, only a little darker. And I need it for the flowers.”
“Why don’t you just paint them pink?”
“They aren’t pink, Daddy. They are magenta. Trust me. It’s going to be a masterpiece.” Everything she painted was a masterpiece in my eyes, but as her skills advanced, so did her desire for better instruments.
I ran my hand through my hair and closed my eyes, imagining her in her favorite pair of sparkly leggings and the princess costume she’d gotten too tall for. She wore them nearly every day unless we could talk her out of it. “Can’t you just use your crayons? I bought you the big box you wanted.”
“Yes, but masterpieces don’t come in crayons, Daddy. They are painted.” Her voice wasn’t whiny at all. It was very matter-of-fact, which made it even harder for me to keep from melting even though I had to disagree.
“That’s not true, honey. Art comes in all kinds of mediums.”
“Well, I’m sick of mediums. I am ready to move up to larges.”
I laughed at her confusion and could imagine how serious she was about her art, and at such a young age. What did I have to look forward to when she got older? She was going to be a handful. But so worth it. “We’ll talk about it when I get home.”
“Okay. When are you coming home?”
“When the job is over.” It was supposed to be a few months with only a week break in the middle, but I didn’t want to make her unhappy. I never wanted to do that. “I love you, Noodle. Put Nana back on the phone.”
“I love you too, Daddy.” She raised her little voice. “Nana!” I could hear her footsteps as she scurried away.
But it wasn’t my mother who got back on the phone. “Hey, son,” said my father. “Did you ever make up your mind about that trip we wanted to take Mila on? It’s only for a week. She’s restless here. And with her school letting out in a few days, we just thought it would be good for her.”
I had forgotten all about them wanting to take her to the Animal Kingdom amusement park a few hours away. My mother had mentioned it the last time I called, but I wasn’t sure anything was definite. “Yeah, I think it will be okay. Just the amusement park?”
“Well, there’s a smaller preserve on the way. We’re talking about doing the drive-through tour, but we’ll keep the windows up. I won’t let any lions eat her if that’s what you’re worried about.”
There were other predators to worry about, but I wasn’t afraid of anything. My father would keep her safe, and Mom managed to keep me alive as a kid. Somehow. I was a rambunctious boy, and some might say I never outgrew it.
“Just have fun. I wish I could come with—”
A ruckus occurred at that moment, and from the sound of the wailing, I could tell it was bad. “Emergency! I have to go!” I ended the call and rushed out of my chair and to the door, where I could already see the men gathering through the window.
“What is it?” I shouted to one of the men nearby.
“I’m not sure,” he said as we both made our way over to the rig in a hurry.
He stopped behind the other men, but I pushed myself through. “Back up!” I shouted, the crowd parting as I peeled them away.
As the men parted, I could see the newest floor-hand’s face as he tried to pull his arm free of the machine it was stuck in. “Help me!” he cried. “It’s broken, I can feel it.” The young man’s name was Lee, and he had just turned twenty-one a week ago.
“Don’t move!” I said. His arm was wedged in the inner workings of the machine that I couldn’t even see from the outside. “Where is the medic?”
“He was across the field. He’s on the way.”
“Tell him to hurry the fuck up!” I wasn’t going to have someone sit there and die on me while that pompous-ass medic was taking his sweet time.
“We hit the emergency shut off,” said my best driller, Jake. “I think we stopped it just in time. I told him not to reach in there.”
“He stuck his hand in there to get a tool that fell in,” said Pete, the oldest of my roughnecks. He had been around the fields longer than anyone in the camp. “He’s going to have to take the damned thing apart if he wants to get that arm out in one piece.”
“Crack it open,” I said, wishing I’d used better words. The man began to panic. “It’s going to be okay, Lee. Don’t panic.”
The motor hand, whose name was Hank, came running over with his tools. “I’m going to need your help, Boss,” he said to me.
The medic arrived, taking immediate action. “We’re probably going to need a tourniquet,” he said. “I have one. Let’s get it around his arm before we undo anything. The pressure is most likely keeping him from bleeding out.”
I nodded. “Can you see what’s going on?” I asked Hank, wondering if he had gotten a better look. I didn’t want to look into that machine. What I had seen already was enough to bring any man to his knees.
“I have a pretty good idea.” He popped open the safety shield, which did fuck all to help, and we could see the blood and twisted bone.
I winced, trying to keep a straight face as not to upset the man any more than he was already. He had turned pale and was beginning to fade out on us.
“Stay with me,” said the medic. His name was Tony. I didn’t have the best relationship with him, but at times like this, I was glad we had him handy.
“Ambulance is on the way,” said one of the men from the back. “They said they’re five away.”
“That’s good,” said Tony. “How long until you can get him free?”
As the man began to sag, putting pressure on his already fucked up arm, Jake held on to him.
“Someone is going to have to pry this,” said Hank. “I’m not sure I’m strong enough, and I have to make sure this piece here doesn’t shift.”
“I can’t,” said Tony. “I’ve got to get the arm free while you do it.”
“I’ll do it,” I said. “Give me some fucking air first.”
I had the men back away as I prepared to help Lee, hoping we’d keep his arm intact in the process. It had damn near been ripped off. If not for the fast action of the other men, it would have been.
“Okay, on three.” Tony, Hank, and I exchanged nods.
“I’ll count.” I prepared myself and took a deep breath as we worked together to get the job done. “One. Two. Three.” I pried the part as Tony pulled the man’s arm free, and thankfully, all went as planned. The men hurried to lay him down in the break station as they waited for the ambulance.
Letting loose a long breath, I got up to dust off. I had to call my superior and let them know about the incident.
I went to the trailer for some privacy. I hit the call button and wiped my gritty brow where the sweat and dirt had combined, making me my own mud mask.
“Zane Ballard,” said Earl Douglas before he even said hello. “I do hope you’re calling to tell me that progress and production are up.”
I clenched my jaw. I hated to tell him what had happened but I knew the best way was to just say it. No beating around the bush like a pussy. “Actually, sir, there’s been another accident.”
“Another one? That’s two this month.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How is he?” His stern tone was his way of asking if the man was dead.
“He’s alive. It’s serious, though. He’s probably going to lose his arm if he makes it.”
“Who is he?”
“Lee Reynolds. He’s a rookie roughneck. He put his hand in a machine to fetch a tool that fell in it.”
“Jesus Christ,” said the man under his breath.
“Yeah. It’s pretty bad. One stupid decision, and he’s messed up for life.”
“Was the machine up to date on its maintenance and inspections?” All Earl really cared about was a lawsuit.
I always made sure my field was working in tip-top shape. “Yes. We had to crack it open to get him free. It was a stupid mistake on his part.”
“A mistake that is costing us time and production, not to mention however much else in a settlement. His fault or not, we get to pay for his stupidity.”
And arms, I wanted to say, but why would the man give two fucks about my crew? They were my responsibility.
“It’s been a long job. The men are pent up, and they need a break. I’ll see to it they have one.” I was about to go out and shut the entire operation down for the day. There was no way we could start up again.
“Give them the rest of the day off. I’m going to send you a replacement. Go home. Come back in a few weeks.”
“A few weeks?” I wondered for a moment if I was about to lose my job.
“Make it a month. And then I want you to come back and make sure this never happens again on your watch. I know it’s not your fault. But I have to take action.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. My daughter couldn’t have an unemployed father. And I didn’t want to have to move her. Williston was where it was at in the industry and I wouldn’t make the kind of money I made anywhere else this close to home.
“Yes, sir.” I hung up the phone and wiped my brow. The only light in the darkness of the day was the fact that I could go home and see Mila. She would make everything better.
August 7, 2023
A VEGAS BAD BOYS COVER REVEAL…
I’m happy to share that I’ve bundled all of my Vegas Bad Boys into one fantastic box set!
It’s coming soon!
May 16, 2023
CHECK OUT WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT STEALING YOU FIRST…
Grab your copy of Stealing You First in Kindle Unlimited!
Want to know what people think? Check out a few of my favorite testimonials.
GRAB YOUR COPY IN KINDLE UNLIMITED ""I was soooo excited for Thomas' story and Miss C. Morgan definitely exceeded my expectations!!! Thomas is the star pitcher at Pro U and seems aloof at times but he's definitely not the woman chaser his buddies used to be. He may come from money but he doesn't rely on daddy's clout and connections like some may think... until he wakes up in the slammer. Lennon has lived her life afraid to live and have fun out of fear of ruining her father's political career. Meeting the handsome athlete at the clinic for PT on his shoulder just might force her out of her comfort zone. Thomas and Lennon's relationship is a slow burn with not a lot of extra time for each other but Thomas doesn't give up. Living with the pressure of their parents expectations causes secrets, doubt and lies, but is that too much?? When enough is enough what happens when they stand up for themselves and reach out for what they want?? I loved watching Thomas and Lennon grow as their relationship flourished and the support they got from their friends. I was also happy to see Talon redeem himself a bit and got a better understanding of what he's going through and sincerely hope he gets a story with a HEA. Great characters with real life situations, hard decisions and a whole life to prepare for. His/her POV, no cliffhanger, no cheating and a hard won HEA "This was an amazing slow burn romance. It was people should get to know each other before falling in love. Lennon is focused on her grades, and afraid of doing anything that might reflect badly on her father's political aspirations. Thomas focused on partying and playing baseball, with a father whose expectations are really high and his new coach hates him. When he first sees Lennon, he is instantly attracted to her. And Lennon was also smitten with Thomas, even making it hard for her to concentrate in classes. They meet by when he is sent for physical therapy. Lennon is there as a student intern. Perfect timing. Although they may seem like total opposites, they soon find that they have much in common, especially heavy parental pressure to be perfect. This is a great story, with a great HEA." "Thomas and Lennon appear to be complete opposites. He's the star baseball player at their college, she's a straight A and straight-laced student. They find themselves thrown together after a particularly crazy night of bad decisions by Thomas, and although Lennon is intrigued, he is her patient and she knows she shouldn't give in. They realize, after trial and tribulation, that although their paths are different, they are dealing with much of the same stressors, and learn to grow thru them together. This is a sweet and steamy romance that anyone who loves coming-of-age type of novels will absolutely enjoy." "Lennon and Thomas's story is a sweet one - combining baseball and academics without the fraternity side of school (a nice diversion). A meeting by chance after witnessing a public intoxication shows a very different side of Thomas, who is very much becoming infatuated with Lennon. Lennon tries to stay on the straight and narrow, hoping to graduate with all A's. Read their journey to graduation and a sweet HEA! Good job!!!" "Another amazing book in the Providence University series! The story of two people who on the surface are so completely different. But a chance meeting changes their lives and attitudes!A well written book with believable and lovable characters!Another
book by C Morgan!" Previous Next
May 12, 2023
READ CHAPTER ONE OF STEALING YOU FIRST
Coach Harris was a dick. Sure, he was new to Providence University, but that didn’t give him the right to act like everything we’d worked so hard for in the last three years meant nothing. He started the season telling us we were in a “new administration” and shouldn’t expect the same “special treatment” we’d received in the past.
As if. Coach McMillian was never easy on us. At least he respected us.
I took in a deep breath, the chilly February air filling my lungs, the smell of freshly cut grass invading my senses. Usually, it was a welcome sensation. I loved baseball practice.
Scratch that, I used to love baseball practice. Until Coach Dickwad took over the team.
I was on the mound, ready to pitch, when the coach blew his whistle. What the hell?
“What’s the problem?” I asked, feeling my anger rising.
It had been a long practice already, and I was ready to get the hell out of there. I was drenched in sweat and the cold air was chilling me to the bone.
“Your form is off,” Coach complained. “Are you trying to give the opponents a home run?”
“I’m trying to finish this damn practice,” I mumbled under my breath.
“What was that, son?” Coach reprimanded. “If you have something to say, be man enough to say it to my face.”
“Alright, Coach Harris,” I said in my best condescending tone. “I think you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. Our team has consistently performed for the last three years, and you’ve come in and screwed up our rhythm.”
I heard a few low whistles and groans from my teammates. They all felt the same way, but apparently none of them were man enough to say anything.
Coach Harris smirked at me, getting right up in my face.
“Is that so, son?” he asked, his voice low. “Because the way I see it, it’s you spoiled-ass rich kids who keep screwing up. Money can’t win you a championship, but my coaching will.”
“Not if we’re too tired to play,” I told him, maintaining eye contact.
Who did this prick think he was, talking to me like that? He had another thing coming if he thought I would just stand there and take his verbal abuse.
“Tell you what,” he said, louder so that everyone could here. “Mr. Hammond makes a good point. You’ve all put in some great effort today. Why don’t you hit the showers and we’ll reconvene on Monday evening?”
I looked around to see my teammates in their various positions. Some were on bases, others in the dugout. Their faces were tired and dirty, and they all looked incredibly relieved. I’d probably be drinking for free the rest of the semester.
I started walking toward the locker room, but Coach put a hand on my chest to stop me.
“Since you’re so concerned about the well-being of the team, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind raking the field for us tonight,” he said with a gleam in his eye.
Bastard. Raking the dirt after the game was usually reserved for one of the rookies or a JV. A senior varsity player never had to do that kind of grunt work. If I refused, though, I’d be the spoiled asshole he was accusing me of being.
“My pleasure,” I responded through gritted teeth.
I walked over to the equipment shed and pulled out the rake and drag mats. My rage toward Coach propelled me through the task. It took me an hour, and the lights went out halfway through. Asshole.
When I’d finally finished and showered, I headed over to Merskys to get my usual post-practice drink with the guys.
“Hey, there’s the man of the hour,” my teammate Ryan called out when I walked through the door.
“We’ve been toasting in your honor all night,” Henry called out, happily sloshing his beer around.
Damn, they were way ahead of me already. I needed to catch up and fast. I ordered two beers when I sat down, but Ryan already had a shot for me.
“To the founder of our feast,” he slurred.
“I’m not paying for this shit,” I complained.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Ryan said, scrunching up his face and concentrating hard.
He looked like he was going to hurt himself.
“What he means,” Aaron chimed in from the other side of the table, “is that if it weren’t for you, we’d probably still be on that field.”
Ryan snapped his fingers. “Yeah,” he confirmed, a goofy smile on his face. “You’re our hero!”
The guys broke out in a chorus of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” much to the chagrin of the other patrons. I downed the shot in front of me, feeling the warmth trickle down to my toes. I needed that.
Someone slid me another and I downed that one too. Then my beers appeared before me, as if by magic. I was vaguely aware of a pretty young waitress smiling at me, but I was already feeling too good to care.
Tonight wasn’t for girls. It was for getting shitfaced with my boys.
“What’s the deal with Coach Hardass anyway?” I complained before draining the beer in my left hand.
“He’s got your number.” Henry laughed. “He’s had it in for you since day one.”
“You think Coach McMillian put something in my file?” I asked, feeling irritated.
I’d done nothing over the last few years but play my goddamn heart out. Coach Harris had no reason not to like me, nor did Coach McMillian have any reason to leave notes about me. I’d taken us to all of our championship games since our freshman year.
“Don’t even worry about it,” Ryan said.
He grabbed my left shoulder and shook me hard. I felt dizzy and shook him off.
The room was starting to spin. I needed another shot, ASAP.
I vaguely noticed a hush fall over the guys, and I turned to see what they were all avoiding. A few tables over was Talon Jackson, on a date with some miserable girl.
Her arms were crossed and she was pouting at him. He didn’t look much happier than she did. A match made in paradise. It made me laugh.
“Dude’s been a mess since his brother died,” Ryan whispered to me.
Well, he tried to whisper. It was more like a very quiet scream.
“Brody was a dick,” Aaron said, just loud enough for us to hear. “I’m not saying he deserved what he got, but—”
I saw Talon’s head shoot up and I kicked Aaron hard under the table. Brody Jackson had been a huge asshole, but nobody deserved to die in a car accident. And I knew Talon had been having a hard time.
He used to be a sweet kid. He was all bright-eyed and worshiped his brother. When Brody died, it was like a switch had flipped. He became a belligerent asshole. Just a few weeks ago, he had tried to drown my sister’s new boyfriend at our frat house. The kid was completely unhinged.
Still, I couldn’t imagine losing a sibling that way. If my sister, Abigail, died, I’d probably be just as much of a dick.
“I think you’ve had enough,” I told Aaron.
He’d clearly lost control of his social graces. Maybe it was time for all of us to call it a night. I flagged down the pretty waitress and she brought our checks. As suspected, the guys paid for my drinks. I was their king. Their king who had to stay late and rake the field.
When we were all paid up, the group of us made our way out the door on shaky legs. One of the younger guys even stopped to puke in the bushes. Amateur.
I noticed a couple of the guys’ girlfriends standing by their cars looking annoyed. I thought about how nice it must be to have someone to call at the end of the night, but I quickly batted the thought away. I was happy with my life as it was. I didn’t need that sappy shit.
“You need a ride, man?” Henry called to me as he got in the passenger side of his girlfriend’s sedan.
The look on her face was murderous. She clearly didn’t want to be there to pick up her man, let alone her man’s drunk teammate. No way was I going to get involved in that mess.
“Nah, bro, I’ll be alright. I don’t live far,” I told him. “You had a whole hour to pregame before I got here, remember?”
He laughed and nodded, and his girlfriend looked equally relieved and annoyed.
I stumbled over to my car, fumbling with the key fob. I was okay. Okay enough to get to my frat house anyway. This was hardly my first rodeo. I was just reaching for the car door when something pulled me away.
What the hell?
“You’re not getting in that car,” a voice said.
The voice probably belonged to the hands that were holding me back from my car. I shook the person off and whirled around on them, ready for a fight.
In front of me stood Talon Jackson, looking calm. Scary calm. Ready to commit murder calm.
“Get off me, Talon,” I bit back. “You’re not the boss of me.”
I turned back to get in my car, but Talon grabbed me again and pinned me against the door.
“This isn’t a good idea, Thomas,” he said in that scary calm voice.
If I weren’t so shitfaced, I might have actually been afraid of him. As it was, I mostly felt anger. Who the hell was this kid to tell me what I could and couldn’t do? I was tired of assholes telling me what I could and couldn’t do today.
I took a swing at Talon, but he easily moved out of my reach. My reflexes definitely weren’t up to par. That was okay, though. He couldn’t stop brute force.
I lunged at him with my whole body, knocking us both to the ground. Talon managed to knock my keys out of my hand, but I managed to reach for them and get them back easily. We scuffled on the ground for a minute, but I kept the upper hand. Talon may have been more sober, but even inebriated I could take him on easily.
Keys in hand and car unlocked, I landed a swift punch into Talon’s stomach. He groaned and I managed to stand up without his interference. I made it to my door and opened it. I quickly shoved the key into the ignition, but when I turned to look at Talon, he was back up with a knife in his hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked, suddenly terrified.
Talon approached me slowly, a look of pity on his face. I was sure he was going to stab me, but instead he turned toward my front tire and slashed it. It was a sickening sound, and a light dinged in my car, telling me that I had a flat tire.
My head fell back against the headrest and I groaned out in frustration. I wanted to get out of the car and kick Talon’s ass for that stunt, but I just didn’t have the energy. Between practice, raking the field, and that altercation between Talon and me, I had nothing left. My eyes closed and I sank into my seat.
“You’re lucky I’m beat,” I murmured out, not even sure if Talon was still there. “Remind me when I’m sober to kick your ass.”
“At least you’ll be alive to do it,” Talon responded from somewhere nearby.
My mouth quirked, and I imagined myself going another round with the punk. I won, naturally. He didn’t even stand a chance. I opened my eyes halfway and realized I was still in my car, the wind biting me through the open door.
Ah well. This was just as good of a place to get some sleep as anywhere else.
May 10, 2023
THE NEXT PRO-U COVER REVEAL IS HERE!
Pro-U book 8 is coming soon! Check out the cover reveal & blurb below for Stealing You First.
BLURB REVEAL:
If I’ve learned anything in life, it’s that you can lose everything in the blink of an eye.
I made one stupid mistake, and it changed the entire trajectory of my life.
There was a chance I’d get kicked off the baseball team, and maybe even out of school.
But I was an adult, I could handle myself. I’d be a man and face the consequences of my actions.
But then I met her.
She was the perfect woman and she deserved someone perfect.
Not a guy who couldn’t even keep himself out of trouble. What could she possibly see in me?
She lived her life to please her father.
She wouldn’t step a toe out of line, but I had to know her.
I had to see if she’d be willing to take a chance on me.
I couldn’t go back and change my past, but if I kept my head down and stayed in line, maybe I could win her.
All I wanted was to prove that I was worth her time.
After all, everything could change in the blink of an eye.
March 7, 2023
Last chance to grab Playing For Keeps on SALE!
Hello, hello. Unfortunately, today is the day I drop in to let you know that my 99¢ fan pricing will be ending soon.
Don’t miss out on this fantastic sale.
BTW, check out a few of my favorite reviews below…
"The skills that Abigail shows on the court have made her a rising star in woman’s tennis. She doesn’t want to be distracted from her goals but when Reed comes into her life she is wondering if he is the exception to the rule.Trying to do the right thing has Reed becoming the newest member of the men’s tennis team at Providence. When he meets Abigail, the sparks fly but being together isn’t without its challenges.Abigail and Reed are perfect for each other in every way as they try to balance school, tennis and each other." "It is a great story!! It is a must read!! I would recommend this book to anyone!! Got to love a sports romance!!" "Reed & Abigail are a LOVE MatchYes, it's a play on the Tennis theme, but these two are so adorable together and I loved the College Angst surrounding their story.Abigail is the top Tennis Phenom at ProU. Every girl wants to be her, but she has those few girls that are a little catty to her. She makes one friend, Cassie, who has her back and wants her to finally meet some guys. Abigail has no time for guys. She is focused solely on tennis.In walks Reed. Reed was kicked out of his old university for fighting. It was an admirable fight. Sticking up for a friend on the tennis team. When he sees Abigail and Cassie watching him practice, he falls in love with Abigail right away. That instant attraction between the two of them finally breaks Abigail from her "no boys" rule.You can see the way they care for each other. It's a college romance that will have you begging for more between the two. I would love to see a story about the two of them after College when Abigail has won her third Wimbledon or Reed has fun being her new coach (I have a feeling that's where their lives are headed). That's what makes Chloe's stories so exciting to read. She leaves you wanting more and giving you just enough romance to satisfy you. Reed and Abigail are a perfect MATCH!" "C. Morgan’s sweet coming-of-age story follows Abigail and Reed as they make their way through tennis practices and tournaments and through their personal lives as well. They both have baggage that prevents them from allowing anyone to tear down the emotional walls they have built, but as they get to know each other better, the walls begin to crumble. Follow their journey to HEA and enjoy not only Abigail and Reed but an interesting cast of secondary characters who also have their own issues." "C. Morgan has a winner with this sweet, angst-filled romance that has plenty of action on and off the court. It is well-written and the characters are lively, engaging and well-developed. It is a fast-paced read that has you turning pages frantically in an effort to find out what comes next. Definitely one for your library" Previous NextMarch 3, 2023
READ CHAPTER ONE OF PLAYING FOR KEEPS
Sweat beaded down my forehead and I let out a frustrated grunt. This man wasn’t giving me what I needed, but I sure as hell wouldn’t let that stop me from getting what I wanted. I adjusted my grip, and the next time the ball flew toward me, I hit it squarely with my racket.
“Good form, Abigail,” Coach Carvel shouted from the sidelines.
I smiled and wiped the sweat from my forehead, glaring at my opponent. He was a new coaching assistant, and he wasn’t nearly as skilled as I was. His racket work was sloppy, and he kept sending me bad serves.
We continued the match, which I obviously won. The newbie assistant eyed me appreciatively, but I ignored his gaze. Besides the fact that any relations between students and coaches was strictly prohibited, I didn’t have time for men. Lately I didn’t have time for anything but tennis.
I wanted to be the next Serena Williams. Strike that, I wanted to be better than Serena Williams. Men didn’t factor into that dream, and they probably never would except when I kicked their asses on the courts.
I watched another match while I waited for Carver to assign my next opponent. It was the first official day of practice for the semester, so his goal was to see our strengths and decide our placements on the team.
I observed the other players, admiring their form and passion. They probably looked at me as the girl who was only half-assing the sport. How could I blame them? Until recently, I’d been playing softball for the school too. They probably thought I wasn’t as serious as they were, but that wasn’t true.
In fact, I considered tennis to be my life. I’d been playing since I was a child, and always planned to go pro. When I got to college, though, I was scouted out by the softball coach. She started me in my first semester, and I loved the feeling of being on a team. Tennis was usually more solitary.
Occasionally I’d play doubles, but I’d been told I could be a bit of a ball hog. My brother always hated playing with me because he could hardly ever get a shot in. Softball was different, we all had a role to play. On the tennis court, though, my singular focus was to win. If a partner couldn’t help me achieve that goal, I would just do it myself. It had always been that way.
“You’re up on Court Three with Lauren,” Coach muttered to me when he saw me peeking over his shoulder.
I smiled, pleased. Lauren was a year older and more established on the team. If he wanted me to play against her, that meant he liked what he saw in my match with his assistant. And, God, did I want to impress Coach. The regional singles tournament was coming up and I needed him to pick me. It was my chance to prove to everyone what I was capable of.
Lauren and I stepped onto the court facing each other. We walked up to the net and shook hands before we walked back to our starting positions. As a more senior member of the team, she got first serve. She had a great swing, giving me my first challenge of the day. Still, I easily hit the ball back to her and we played in earnest.
She won the first set, but I ended up winning the match. When I lost the first set I was more motivated to win. I played my heart out and it showed. I looked over to Coach, temporarily forgetting his existence as I was so caught up in the game. He smiled and wrote in his clipboard. I felt instant gratification.
I basically floated to the locker room, so buoyed by my win. Lauren had been profiled in our school paper last year. They’d named her “One to Watch” as one of the top athletes at Providence University. I’d just beaten her in our first match. Maybe this year the profile would be about me. I hoped they picked a good picture.
The hot steam of the shower helped loosen my muscles and I relaxed against the spray. There was a little time before my next class, so I didn’t rush. I reveled in every pain, every crack as I unwound myself. This was day one of the rest of my life, and I’d freaking nailed it.
“Good game,” a girl said to me as I stepped out of the shower.
She was dressed, but her hair was still wet from her own shower. She threw it up in a bun and smiled brightly at me.
“Thank you.” I smiled back. “I’m Abigail,” I told her, realizing that I hadn’t met her before.
She was taller than me and broader too. Her wet hair looked brown, though it could’ve been a dark blonde. It was hard to say. Her light brown eyes shone brightly at me and she extended her hand. I made sure to use my free hand to keep my towel up.
“Cassie,” she answered back. “I’m a freshman.”
Ah, so that was why I hadn’t seen her before. She looked so much older, though, not only because of her stature. She carried herself with a confident air, and her eyes held a glint of mischief. If I wasn’t careful, this girl might get me in trouble. Maybe the good kind, though.
“How long have you been on the team?” she asked.
“It’s my second year, but I’ve been playing since I was a kid.”
“I can tell.” She giggled. “I didn’t learn moves like that in school. You clearly know what the hell you’re doing with that racket.”
I smiled shyly, but inside I felt a hundred feet tall. It meant a lot when people noticed my form. I’d worked so hard to get where I was now.
Cassie prattled on for a while as I dressed. I slipped on a simple pair of leggings and my tennis sweatshirt. Strictly speaking, it was too warm to be wearing a sweatshirt, but our team t-shirts wouldn’t be in for a while. I wanted to represent for my first day of classes.
While Cassie spoke, I learned a lot about her. She’d been scouted out of high school and was here on a tennis scholarship. She was nervous about starting college and the rigorous academic schedule. I wondered briefly if her nerves were why she talked so much, or if maybe that was just her.
She was absolutely obsessed with boys, something we didn’t share.
“Oh, are you, ya know, playing for the other team?” She giggled.
I rolled my eyes. There were so many stereotypes about female athletes. Though, to be fair, I knew several bi athletes. Still, my lack of interest in guys had nothing to do with my orientation.
“Men are a distraction,” I chided. “If you have any hope of being a tennis pro you have to keep up your focus.”
“Lots of professional athletes are married.” She laughed. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re in college, this is your time to sow your wild oats!”
“Is that what you’re doing?” I asked her, taking in her short shorts and crop top.
“Oh, I’m very sex-positive,” she affirmed. “I plan to do my way through the school before graduation!”
I rolled my eyes again. “And when do you plan on improving your tennis game?”
“God, you sound like my dad!” She laughed. One thing I was learning about Cassie was that everything was funny to her.
“If I’m being honest, I got into tennis because he handed me a racket when I was five. Tennis is fine, and it’s paying for school, but it’s not my priority. It’s a means to an end, you know?”
I bristled at her words. How could anyone be on this team and not have the same single-minded dedication? Maybe the guys could get away with this nonchalant attitude, but we had to work harder and be faster just to keep up with them.
“You aren’t trying for the singles tournament?” I asked, totally bewildered at her attitude.
She scoffed. “Look, my scholarship just stipulates I have to be on the team and keep up my GPA. A tournament sounds like effort, and right now I’m focusing all my effort on getting straight A’s in classes and straight D’s in—”
“I got it,” I cut her off, not wanting to hear the rest of her philosophy.
I braided my hair quickly and added some light makeup, but only to cover some of the redness my face still held from practice.
“So the boys’ team practices at six tonight,” Cassie started.
“I’m aware,” I grumbled, annoyed that the boys got to practice when it was cooler.
They were always getting advantages over us.
“I was thinking about coming back to watch them play. What do you think?”
“I think if you want to watch them play, you should,” I said as I packed up my gear and shoved it in my locker.
“No, silly, what do you think about coming with me?”
It was an intriguing idea. I didn’t normally watch practice, but it could be a good chance for me to pick up some new techniques. I had a feeling Coach Carver was holding out on us.
“I don’t really know.” I hesitated. “I’ve got class until four and I was planning to study after dinner. Gotta keep up the GPA and all that.”
“Please, Abigail?” Cassie whined. “You’re the first person I’ve really gotten to talk to since I arrived, and I really don’t want to go alone!”
I had a hard time believing that Cassie hadn’t talked to anyone else. She didn’t seem to have any issues talking in general. Still, I did have some pity for her. It was hard to leave home and start college. If it meant that much to her, I supposed I could stop in for a little while.
“Fine,” I conceded. “I’ll come watch practice with you.”
She squealed at a pitch only dogs could hear, and it made me wince.
“Oh, I’m so excited!” she screamed. “I’ve been checking out the team roster and there are some real hotties on the team! What better way to meet a guy than to exploit a common interest?”
I rolled my eyes again and stood to leave.
“Cassie, I will come watch practice with you under one condition. For every guy you tell me is hot, you have to point out one element of his game you would do differently.”
She pouted at me. “That sounds so boring! Can’t we just ogle them?”
I sighed heavily. “How would you feel if the boys came to our practice just to ogle us?”
She got a dreamy look in her eye and I immediately realized my mistake.
“Don’t answer that,” I said, stopping her with my hand before she could say anything.
“Oh, you won’t regret this, Abigail.” She sighed, pulling me into a tight hug. “We’ll have the best time! Who knows, maybe we’ll even make a love connection!”
“I know very well that I will not be making a love connection tonight, but I wish you the best of luck.”
I walked to the door and she followed at my heels. One of the seniors brushed past me, giving Cassie a dirty look. Suddenly, I felt very protective of the naïve girl who just wanted to hook up with hot college guys. Even if I didn’t particularly understand her.
I turned back to Cassie.
“I’ll meet you here at five-forty-five okay. Don’t be late, and for goodness sake, put on a sweater. It gets chilly at night.”
She gave me a fake salute and followed me out of the locker room. We walked down the long hallway until we exited the sports complex and emerged into the now cloudy morning.
“Five-forty-five,” she repeated. “Got it! Oh, and can you bring us some coffee?”
I rolled my eyes again as I started my long trek across campus.
March 2, 2023
Check out the Cover Reveal for Playing For Keeps…
/*! elementor - v3.11.2 - 22-02-2023 */.elementor-heading-title{padding:0;margin:0;line-height:1}.elementor-widget-heading .elementor-heading-title[class*=elementor-size-]>a{color:inherit;font-size:inherit;line-height:inherit}.elementor-widget-heading .elementor-heading-title.elementor-size-small{font-size:15px}.elementor-widget-heading .elementor-heading-title.elementor-size-medium{font-size:19px}.elementor-widget-heading .elementor-heading-title.elementor-size-large{font-size:29px}.elementor-widget-heading .elementor-heading-title.elementor-size-xl{font-size:39px}.elementor-widget-heading .elementor-heading-title.elementor-size-xxl{font-size:59px}Playing For Keeps is coming soon! /*! elementor - v3.11.2 - 22-02-2023 */.elementor-widget-text-editor.elementor-drop-cap-view-stacked .elementor-drop-cap{background-color:#818a91;color:#fff}.elementor-widget-text-editor.elementor-drop-cap-view-framed .elementor-drop-cap{color:#818a91;border:3px solid;background-color:transparent}.elementor-widget-text-editor:not(.elementor-drop-cap-view-default) .elementor-drop-cap{margin-top:8px}.elementor-widget-text-editor:not(.elementor-drop-cap-view-default) .elementor-drop-cap-letter{width:1em;height:1em}.elementor-widget-text-editor .elementor-drop-cap{float:left;text-align:center;line-height:1;font-size:50px}.elementor-widget-text-editor .elementor-drop-cap-letter{display:inline-block} I’m excite to share the cover and blurb reveal for my first book in the Pro-U series. It’s coming soon.
BLURB REVEAL:
Love isn’t worth giving up my dreams.
At least that’s what I tell myself. And it’s good until I meet him.
Tennis has been my driving force since I was seven years old, and I’m not willing to let anyone get in the way of my ambition.
Not even the hottest guy on campus. And of course he loves the sport too.
But all I want in life is to play professionally and prove that all of this has been worth it.
He’s not part of the plan.
Though he’s quickly trying to be.
Brilliant. Talented. Competitive.
I’m having thoughts I shouldn’t and deviating from everything but him.
I can’t be distracted from my dreams, though. I won’t. Right?
He and I could be a perfect match, but I don’t know if I can give up everything I’ve worked for to be in a relationship.
He’s playing for keeps, and I’m resisting as best I can.
Who will win? Hopefully him.
February 14, 2023
Last call fan pricing on the Pro-U Box Set!
Fan pricing on my new box set with Ali Parker will end soon! Grab yours right away.
Check out the amazing fan reviews on Amazon…
"This boxset features six complete stories about a sexy college athlete and the feisty women who find love when they least expect it. Within this collection there is something for everyone whether your favorite sport to read about is hockey, soccer, basketball, baseball, swimming or rugby and it is great to have the entire series in one coll.The storylines are different, the characters are captivating, the romance between them swoony and there is just enough drama to keep things interesting.It is great to have the entire series in one collection." "This was a fantastic book series from C. Morgan and Ali Parker. Each book follows a group of friends and collegiate athletes from Providence University as they find love, new life dreams, and overcoming their pasts. This series will take readers through a rollercoaster of feels from falling in love, shame, addiction, fear, and protectiveness. Readers will fall in love with these characters and their stories." "A wonderful collection of stories that give you an amazing view of the lives of teammates on a college hockey team, and how they grow up and find love! We start with some very immature jocks who think girls are their rewards for doing well. Add some very smart girls who can see the potential of these guys. This seems like real life, and it's not all fun! Great read!" "This is a wonderful college and sports romance set that has six wonderful stories that draws you in and gives you the college experience through the characters eyes in the stories. Each story is descriptive, with great storylines that had me connecting with the characters as I cheered them on to finding their happiness. I enjoyed all six stories and can't wait to read them again!" Previous Next
