Novel & Cerita Fiction Books About Football

I know Jamaal, his threats are always carried out to the extreme. I wasn't comfortable staying in his room, it smelt of him and reminds me every of my encounter with him. I stood up and walked around his room, the neatness of his room still surprises me. A rack full of footballs was at the corner of the room and a little shelf was besides his study table. I walked towards the shelf, I was expecting to see the textbooks we use in school on the shelf, but I saw novels instead. Books by John Grisham, Sidney Sheldon, Colleen Hoover, James Patterson and Ted Dekker.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I knew Caius and the guys watched football together, only they weren’t like your typical males cheering over touchdowns and muttering about bad passes. They’d sit there silent, grunting here and there like cavemen, speaking some language only they seemed to understand. I knew that despite his gruff demeanor and lack of manners he read a lot of books, including a few on complex post traumatic stress disorder that I’d found in the drawer of his desk. There had been several tabs in the book, along with highlighted passages circled in red ink. I knew he hated golfing and became cranky when he wasn’t able to shift for more than a few days.

He grins when he hears Isaac barrel his way back through the club. “Oi! I’m heading out early, yeah? You twats keep an eye on yourselves. Don’t cause any property damage! Mrs. Leslie is tired of handling it!” Callum poorly stifles a snicker at the chorus of agreement he hears from drunken footballers in the background. The property damage is mostly directed at Francisco, their striker from Guadalajara, and Joshua, their goalkeeper from Montreal. Somewhere between Joshua’s excessive height and Francisco’s excessive enthusiasm, they’ve managed to break a handful of tables at a handful of clubs, who were understandably less than pleased to deal with the aftermath. And god knows Mrs. Leslie does

On our very long trip to Philly, we’d discussed football a lot, and I could tell how much he loved it. “Trying not to think about it,” he admitted. “I wish I could’ve waited until the end of the season at least to do all of this, but it just didn’t work out that way. Guess I’ll live. Hunting Vampires is sort of like football. There’s just as much tackling, although, I’ve never ripped the head off of an opposing player.”

"Seriously, Lena. Put those books down and come to bed with me." Heat flooded my face and I shrank back away from him. "No. There's no way we're doing that again, and I've told you, so stop asking." He grabbed a football from beside his bed and started spinning it on his index finger around and around in a perfectly balanced circle. I blinked. There used to be a time when I understood basically nothing about football, but even then I still had to admit there was something strangely attractive about him being so... Athletic. I mean, it was either that or I was losing my mind.

He must have kept the evidence of his dirty secrets in a place where it won't be discovered easily. My eyes fell on a bookshelf at the back of the room. I’d seen it hundreds of times, but only now did I really see it. The books were not old novels but instead about sports, football magazines, and even a few on gambling. “Motherfucker,” I hissed as I crossed the room. It took a few seconds of pulling books and magazines down before I found it. A thick manila folder tucked behind Sports Betting for Beginners. With a heavy heart, I took it over to the desk and opened the folder. A few seconds in, a cold knot formed in my stomach.

Football was an important part of the man I loved, and I would have no sooner taken it from him than I would've cut off his arm. Of course, I was now a part of the sports press. My job with Marla Smith's organization was challenging and exciting, and it gave me insight into Leo's career and into the game of football. I'd done several stories that had made it to the website, although Marla was very selective about what went up. My most popular reports so far had been my profile of Kara Crocker, which we also used to promote the Crockers' book, and a fun story about single football players that showed a different side of the glamorous, playboy lifestyle so many people believed they led.

"Will you please stop shouting at me? I still have no idea what you're talking about. How could I find out where you were when I didn't even know your last name until today? And why would I even be interested?" He snorted. "Give me a break. I think everyone in the universe knows the story of Ryan McCabe and the psycho bitch who tore up his house and hers then accused him of doing it." She heard a tiny little click in her brain. Vaguely she remembered Liz telling her about a big time football player who had gone on a rampage when his latest girl friend dumped him. But not being a huge football fan she'd paid no attention to the name so nothing had rung a bell with her.

As soon as my head hits the mattress, I find myself being pulled into another dreamless slumber. Dear Gentle Readers, if you are interested in reading Clarabelle Summers’ story, stay tuned to this author’s profile here in GoodNovel and subscribe to "Fuck You And All Of Your Bullshits". You can also check out Clarabelle's brothers’ stories (she has 8 brothers) in "Taming The Wild CEO" (Javier Summers), "Accidentally in Bed With The Wrong Brother" (Draven Summers), and "Tempted By The Devil" (Reed Summers). Or Clarabelle’s niece, Autumn Summers, in "The Bad Nerd Boy". Thanks a million and please do take health precautions and stay safe!

"Why football? Explain it to me." I gather my thoughts as Aiden manipulates my body and rolls me over so he can massage the backs of my thighs and lower back. "I don't remember how old I was. Young, maybe three or four. My dad worked long hoursyard work and things like that around the house. On Sundays during football season he planted himself in front of the TV and took the day to enjoy himself. I would sit for hours watching games with him. As I grew older, I asked endless questions and he patiently answered. I loved seeing the ball glide through the air on a spiral pass. If I hadn't wanted to be a kicker, I would have played quarterback." I turn my head and offer Aiden a small grin. "Foot