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Why Love a Sweet Southern Bad Boy?

May 10, 2017

Top Five Reasons Readers Will Swoon for Nick Frasier


    1. He’s drop-dead gorgeous! In a tall, ripped, blond hair, blue-eyed way. He has the scruffy 5 o’clock shadow and tousled hair thing going and would look great wearing a sandwich board!


    1. Nick’s an ex-professional quarterback turned NFL head coach who’s very passionate about his job. He’s hard working, driven and relentless when it comes to his job and reputation.


    1. Smart, sharp, witty and sometimes bossy, (in a good way, of course!) he keeps Marabelle guessing.


    1. Nick’s protective and possessive, especially when it comes to the people he loves…and he loves


    1. But mostly, Nick Frasier is delicious, delightful and dangerous, a triple threat to every girl’s heart. Careful…he’s all Marabelle’s and she’s not above fighting you to keep what’s hers.



“Excuse me,” she said, breaking the deafening silence, “we don’t have all day. The Stones will be waiting.” She planted her fist on her cocked hip.

“Nice picture of you and your dad.” Nick reached for the next frame as if they had all the time in the world.

The man made her insane. How could he appear so calm? And what was he doing here, screwing up all her well-laid plans? Marabelle knew how to survive her family, but she hated to have witnesses. She hated for Nick to see her reduced to acquiescing to keep the peace, like she had no mind of her own. She hated for him to see how little she mattered.

“And this picture—”

“What are you doing here?” Marabelle demanded.

He replaced the photo on the dresser in one long, slow movement that had her gritting her teeth. “Looking at your pictures.” He flashed his crooked grin and turned his attention back to the photos. He lifted another silver frame of her holding a large tennis trophy.

Marabelle snatched the photo from his hand and slammed it facedown on her dresser, rattling the other frames. “You know what I mean.”

Finally, he faced her, his steely gaze locking with hers. “Your friend Beau, being a clever quarterback, informed me of how you needed a fiancé this weekend, and well, I don’t know, I thought I’d lend a hand. Since I am your fiancé.” He bit the last words off as if each one were a rusty nail.

“Read my lips. We are not engaged,” she snapped at Nick’s stubborn face.

“That ring on your finger says otherwise, so let’s play ball, Tinker Bell.” His voice heavy with sarcasm, he grabbed her suitcase and tossed it on her bed.

The man was determined to insert himself into her life whether she wanted him there or not. Marabelle didn’t need an audience for her humiliation this weekend. She yanked on the ring in question, but it wouldn’t budge past her knuckle. “Where’d you get this anyway? I think it’s stuck. It won’t come off.”

Nick paid her no attention as he made quick work of plowing through her folded, neat stacks of clothes, turning her carefully thought-out packing into a whirlpool of fabrics and colors.

“Stop. What are you doing?” She forgot the ring, rushing over to gather up the clothes as quickly as he threw them out.

“I’m finding you something better to wear. Here. Wear this.” He held out the pink Chanel skirt with the black silk top. “Jesus. Take that awful outfit off. I thought I was watching the Stepford wives downstairs.” Nick reached for a black knit cardigan with pearl buttons and shoved it on top. “And take your hair down. I almost didn’t recognize you.” He gave her carefully arranged helmet head a look of disdain. “And what happened to your freckles? I can’t even see them under that thick mask of gunk. Wash your face and put on about half the makeup you have on now.”

“Are…are…you crazy! It took me forever to transform into this getup. Did you not see how thrilled my mother was?” She pointed up and down at herself with her index finger. “This is who she wants me to be.”

He let the clothes fall on the disheveled mound he had created. “But it’s not you. Why come here and pretend to be something you’re not?”

“Because when you live in the palace, you serve only the evil queen.” Marabelle watched Nick struggle to keep his scowl in place, but he lost the battle, and a huge smile cracked open on his face.

Marabelle tried biting back her own smile and then she wailed, “This is so not funny. You almost gave me a heart attack down there.”

“I could say the same.” He looked pointedly at her knit suit. “I never thought I’d say this, but frumpy Marabelle is better than creepy Marabelle.”

She whirled away and started pacing. “How long have you been here?”

“I flew in, rented a car, and got here around four.”

“Not long enough to do too much damage,” she murmured half to herself.

“Yeah, maybe because I’m not lying.”

She blinked several times and then groaned. “How can you say that? I had my whole story worked out. And now this—”

“Jesus, Marabelle. Why didn’t you just ask me? So far, since I’ve known you, I’ve managed to say no to you…oh I don’t know…how about…never.” A wave of shock sliced through her. But Nick showed no mercy. “You still don’t get it. I’m on your team. And that means I’ll back you up and even take a sack for you.”

Marabelle lowered her head and fiddled with the beautiful ring on her finger. Nick was right; he’d been nothing but helpful to her. “You don’t understand…my family. They’re careless—”

“So we deal with it together. You’re gonna become a team player if it kills me.”

Team player? She snapped her head up. She’d played on a team. In her day, she’d been one of the top-ranked doubles partner in the South. “Okay. But I get to call the plays.”

Nick gave a harsh laugh. “Hell no. You suck at it. Now listen up.” He glanced at his watch. “You have exactly twenty minutes to get changed. No fiancée of mine is going to be seen in public wearing that.”

She glanced at the awful suit. “I can’t do it. My mother will kill me.”

He invaded her space, glaring down at her. “Not your call to make. Either you change yourself or I will gladly do it for you.”

She leaned forward, tipping her nose in the air. Nick’s don’t-screw-with-me stare intensified, and Marabelle could tell he meant business.

Dropping her chin, she huffed, “And I thought my mother was bossy.” She snatched up the change of clothes and stomped toward the bathroom door, muttering about arrogant fiancés under her breath.

He chuckled. “Oh and Tinker Bell…” She stopped and frowned over her shoulder. “Put these on, too,” he said, hitting her in the face with her new pink lacy bra and panty. “They’re hot.”

Thanks for having me! Hope you enjoy Sweet Southern Bad Boy.


Sweet Southern Trouble

An ambitious Southern belle

Marabelle Fairchild knows she’s a gal who can get things done. Feeling unappreciated at the exclusive private school where she’s a kindergarten aide and varsity tennis coach, Marabelle determines to score with the next big fundraiser. What she doesn’t expect? A smokin’ hot football coach to throw her off her game…

A reclusive NFL bachelor…

NFL coach Nick Frasier is Raleigh’s most eligible bachelor, but he wants to focus on his career…not his playboy status. He doesn’t need a smart-mouthed, pint-sized kindergarten teacher pestering him. So he cuts Marabelle a deal—in exchange for Nick sponsoring a bachelor auction starring him and his gorgeous celebrity pals, Marabelle will pose as his fiancée to ward off unwanted advances.

What could possibly go wrong?

Romance Contemporary [Sourcebooks Casablanca, On Sale: May 2, 2017, Mass Market Paperback / e-Book, ISBN: 9781402293641 / eISBN: 9781402293658]

About Michele Summers

Michele Summers

MICHELE SUMMERS writes about small-town life with a Southern flair, and has her own interior design business in Raleigh, North Carolina, and Miami, Florida. Both professions feed her creative appetite and provide a daily dose of humor.

Harmony Homecomings


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