Release Blitz + ARC Review + Exlusive Sneak Peek | The Revenge Pact by Ilsa Madden-Mills

2020. december 3., csütörtök

The Revenge Pact kicks off an all-new series, The Kings of Football, with an emotional and super-charged new adult standalone romance from Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills is available now!

River Tate is a god on campus.
The king of football.
A tattooed bad boy with gunmetal eyes that see right through you.
The only chink in his armor is her, the girl he pretends doesn’t exist, the forbidden one with the shy smile and lavender hair.

Anastasia Bailey is a nobody.
The queen of nothing.
An outsider with the face of an angel and a body made for sin.
The only chink in her armor is him, her boyfriend’s frat brother, the football player who hates her.

But when Anastasia’s life crashes down, River’s the one who sweeps in and picks up the pieces. Torn between loyalty, lies, and secrets, he battles the temptation to take everything from her when they make their revenge pact.

He can’t tell her no.
Because revenge (or love) is sweet, and once you get a taste, the craving never ends.


The Revenge Pact is a first book of Kings of Football series. It can be read as a standalone. We can read this in present time from Anastasia & River's POV. This story is beautiful inside and outside. I really love the characters! I cried a lot! I didn't want to say goodbye for them!
Anastasia is an incredible character with big mouth. She's talking and talking and awww I love her style and mind so much!
River, OMG! He is my favourite ever hero! He is a simply breathtaking character, handsome and so sweet. The way he sees the world, his kindness and the way he takes care his friends and his mother. Aww!

This is a really beautiful story that you have to read! Don't miss it!


    See those three boys over there? 
    Yeah, the kings of football? 
    The ones with their heads in their hands, drinking their beers and trying to figure out what the hell happened to their season? 
    They choked. 
    That’s right. These All-Americans became the biggest upset in college football and a complete embarrassment to their town.
    Can it really be that bad?
    Former national champions, Braxton College was annihilated this year. 
    No, not just annihilated—completely and utterly destroyed.  
    Three games. 
    That’s it. 
    They won three games all season. 
    Interceptions. Dropped balls. Missed blocks. Fumbles. Name it, they did it. 
    First, there’s River Tate, the popular frat boy. He’s supposed to be a superstar wide receiver but dropped more passes than he caught. 
    Next is Crew Smith, the protective one. Once an NFL hopeful, he now holds the record for the most interceptions in a season for a quarterback.
    And rounding out the trifecta of crap is Hollis Hudson, the mysterious tight end who keeps everything locked down. He couldn’t run a route to save his life this year.
    Guys wanted to be them.  
    Girls wanted their hearts.  
    But at this point, not sure anyone would touch them with a ten-foot pole. 
    The truth is, they’ve screwed up their prospective NFL careers. 
    Maybe their entire lives.  
    There are three stories to be told… 
    This is River’s.

I lie to myself all the time. 
    But I never 
    believe me.

— ​The Outsiders, S. E. Hinton


    At half past six, I pop awake, and my first class isn’t till nine. Typical. Once my head winds up, there’s no shutting off the replay reel. Dark and ugly, our last football game rushes at me and my hands clench the sheets. 
    The score? Forty-seven to fourteen. 
    We got decimated.
    Screw that. 
    Jumping up, I stick my earbuds in and listen to “My Own Worst Enemy” by Lit as my fingers wrap around a pull-up bar I have in the doorway. I count out fifty, hop back down, and roll my neck. Blood rushes through my veins, adrenaline kicking in and obliterating the dark thoughts. I check the mirror. My face screams exhaustion and my ‘famous’ lips are in a thin, hard line. 
    Good morning, world. River Tate is ready to kick ass. 
    Yeah. Keep telling yourself that. 
    The older, Craftsman-style off-campus house I share with my teammates, Crew and Hollis, is dead quiet when I walk down the hall to the bathroom. The silence pricks at me, crawling like spiders, reminding me of a funeral home. It brings back unwanted memories of my dad, and I kick those ugly thoughts away. A man can only handle so many losses in his head at once. 
    After my shower, I rip back the curtain that hangs around the old claw-foot tub. “Dammit!” Forgot my clothes. Again. My brain truly is the Bermuda Triangle. Info comes in and poof, it vanishes. I have excellent recall for the oddest things. Mating rituals of animals? Check. Football stats? Locked and loaded. Movie quotes? Branded in my skull. My classes at Braxton? Freaking ghost town with tumbleweeds blowing through it. That plane has flown over the Triangle and disappeared. 
    My brain goes too fast to focus on small details like underwear. 
    I wrap a towel around my waist and open the door, water dripping on the hardwood. 
    You’d lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on, Mom says. Then she’ll laugh and say, Now, what the heck was I doing? An image of her pops into my head, glossy brown hair, blue eyes, and the best smile on this planet. My chest tightens. She’s not awake yet or I’d call her. She sleeps until noon, my sister Rae told me. 
    A trip to my closet tells me I haven’t done laundry in a while. The only shirt that passes muster is one from sophomore year. It’s purple with our mascot on it, a brown badger on the pocket. Screw the haters who want to judge us for a shit season. Badgers forever! I yank it out and slip it on. “At least I have clean underwear,” I mutter as I shove my legs into a pair of black skinny jeans and zip them up.
    I find the Chucks I’m feeling for today—I have ten different pairs—slap them on, then fish around on the floor for my novel and backpack.
    “Yes!” I call out as I find them under a mound of clothes in my closet. Makes sense. I tore into my room like a tornado on Thursday before we flew to Louisiana for the game. I barely recall packing my duffle and running out the door.
    My head was in a weird place after seeing her on campus. Didn’t talk to her—oh no, can’t do that—but I saw her in the student center. She was…sad? Fuck if I know. Her head was down as she read a book, not laughing with her roommates as they sat in one of the lounge areas. Inexplicably, she looked up (maybe feeling the intensity of my stare), saw me, then her gaze moved on, not pausing. That I can handle. It’s the usual. We’ve done it for a year. But her not smiling? WTF. Girl has the world. Smart. Beautiful. Perfect boyfriend.
    I stop at Crew’s door and bang on it. “Rise and shine, Hollywood.”
    Just need to see someone’s face before I head out. It’s a thing. And he knows.
    “Go away,” he groans. 
    I tap on Hollis’s door. “Yo, man. You okay in there? Hungry?” Code for Come talk to me. 
    “Asshole” is the low response. 
    I smirk. We had a few too many drinks last night at our favorite bar, The Truth Is Out There. It’s a fitting name for a college dive devoted to X-Files memorabilia and newspaper clippings from supposed alien sightings that took place in Walker in the eighties. 
    Otherwise, Walker, Georgia, is home to Braxton College, a prestigious D1 school with one of the best football programs in the country. 
    Not anymore. 
    I swallow down jagged bitterness. 
    I groan aloud when I see that our cupboards are nearly bare. There’s one piece of bread (I don’t eat the heel), an empty box of Ritz crackers, and a bag of Funyuns. Those disgusting things belong to Crew and he’ll freak if I eat them, not that I would. I have standards. 
    In the fridge, I find leftover pineapple pizza (Hollis wrote his name on the box) and a box of pad thai noodles (mine) that have green fuzz on top. Well hell. 
    “Trip to Big Star today,” I mutter as I grab the only thing edible, a half-pack of bacon. I’m nuking it in the microwave when Crew, our quarterback, sticks his head out of his room. 
    “I just came out so you could see my face. You aren’t normal.” He grabs a hat off the hook in the hall and puts it on his head backward. 
    “Completely aware. Morning.” I push up a smile, but it’s more of a wince. 
    He grunts his reply as he comes farther into the kitchen. “Jesus. How can you eat?” 
    I smirk. “Bacon is manna from heaven. Besides, grease hits the spot after a hangover. I’ll hit the grocery today. It’s my turn.” I pause. “You remember last night?”

© Ilsa Madden-Mills, 2020

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About Ilsa Madden-Mills
Wall Street Journal, New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills is best known for her angsty new adult romances and romantic comedies.

Eight of her eleven novels have placed in the Amazon Top 10 Best-seller List: Dirty English #1; Fake Fiancée and I Dare You #2; I Bet You, Filthy English, and Very Bad Things #6; Boyfriend Bargain #8; The Last Guy, her collaboration with Tia Louise, #4.

A former high school English teacher, she adores all things Pride and Prejudice, and of course, Mr. Darcy is her ultimate hero.

She's addicted to frothy coffee beverages, cheesy magnets, and any book featuring unicorns and sword-wielding females. Feel free to stalk her online.

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Best-selling authors Ilsa Madden-Mills, Meghan Quinn and Adriana Locke,deliver three stand-alone romances about college football players finding true love while on the verge of losing everything.

Release Date: December 10th

I haven't seen her in three years.

I haven't talked to her since the kiss.

So why am I on a plane, flying across the world to spend a week with her in Germany?

One word: Pops.

My life’s a mess.
My possible football career is hanging on by a thread.
I'm driving the roads of Germany in honor of Pops with the one girl I can never have.
And I’m sharing a bed with her, the girl I've measured everyone else up to, while desperately trying to not to touch her.

We made a pact growing up, never to get romantic with each other - never fall in love.

And I'm about to break that pact. For good.


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Release Date: December 17th

How hard can it be?

That was the question rolling around Larissa Mason’s mind just before she asked Hollis Hudson to be her fake boyfriend.

It was only supposed to be for five minutes, after all.

Granted, that was also before she felt his hand on the small of her back as he charmed the heck out of her family.

She hadn’t heard his laugh yet either.

And it was definitely before she saw the football god shirtless. Otherwise, she would’ve had an idea of just how hard some things could be.

It turns out that pretending to be in love with a crazily handsome, somewhat enigmatic, and absolutely unforgettable tight end (that has an amazing tight end) is easy.

Reminding herself that just because opposites attract doesn’t mean they’re forever is much harder.

What they have isn’t love—it’s a relationship pact. Right?

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