The perfect couple.
Together since they were five years old. From high school, college, and to the pros, he has remained the baddest quarterback on the planet while she remained the hottest cheerleader on the planet!
She gets kidnapped by the mob! The only way to win her back is to go to the Super Bowl . . . and lose! By the way, she is pregnant! Can he carry his city, his team, and his family on his back?
Touch down! Who wins, love or hate?
|Product dimensions:||6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.50(d)|
Read an Excerpt
LOVE AND FOOTBALL
LOVE NEVER FAILS
By JOSHUA LEVI BROWN
Trafford PublishingCopyright © 2013 Joshua Levi Brown
All rights reserved.
Love Rules All
"I Will Always Love You ..."
Whitney, one of the greatest voices ever known to the human race. She sang loud, pleasant, and beautifully from the four speakers in my bedroom.
I laid on my back, as she laid, peacefully on my ripped, muscular, tatted-up chest.
I love my girl. No lie. No games. Straight up. Real talk, in Real Life Action. I got her back.
I ain't never doing her wrong. Never going to cheat. Never going to hit her or leave her side.
We were the perfect couple!
Match made in heaven! Bam!
High school superstars! She was the prettiest, most-popular cheerleader, and I was the all-star quarterback.
Now, she was resting in my arms. She was so beautiful. I'm just happy man, looking at her sleep like a baby.
"I love you," Ebony mumbled, reading my mind, while she continued to sleep.
"I love you too," I said, smiling, while running my fingers through her long, curly, Indian and black, natural, pretty hair.
Dang! Her body was banging! Her butt looked like a juicy fruit mixed with a basketball!!! Sticking, well, poking out. Round and perfect. Even from underneath our red, silk sheets.
Ebony's body was cold as ice! Rich like gold! Fine as wine! Priceless, like a diamond! Delicious like ice-cream! Sweet as a Georgia peach! She had caramel, smooth-as-silk skin to set off her slim waist and pretty face!
Ebony was top model tall at 5'10". Then, she was funny, loyal, and athletic at the same dang time! Gymnastic moves, video vixen booty, hypnotizing, hazel eyes, and cheerleader energy like WOW!
Ebony was the love of my life. Of course, I'm a brown-skinned, hard-core, pretty boy with a gangstafied attitude. Lol.
Pow! Pow! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Gunshots erupted from every direction. Bullets ripped through the windows and walls in my bedroom.
Instantly, I grabbed my queen, and shielded her body. I laid on top of her, covering her body completely.
Glass shattered everywhere! My heart beat faster than a drunk driver in a race car!
Someone kicked the door open ...
I rolled our bodies off my king-sized water bed and rolled us underneath the bed.
"Who shooting, baby? What's da-"
"Shhhhush baby. Quiet," I whispered to my trembling, terrified queen. I held her body tight and close to my heart, like a pacemaker.
The room was solid black ...
"You will die! You and your pretty, innocent, cheer-leading girlfriend! You may be a NFL star quarterback, but you still have dues to pay. You violated the Blood gang. No need to hide under the bed."
The lights came on. I peeked from under the bed. Three killers. They had on red shoes, black clothes, red ski masks, and red, evil-glowing eyes!
Sniffling. Crying. Trembling. Body vibration.
My girl was shaking with fear. The fear of dying an early, young death. Who wants to die? We can't die. God. Not like this!
A week before the Super bowl. Atlanta is picked to win, by ten. I'm the rookie of the year! Plus, the first, black, starting quarterback ever, picked to win the Super Bowl, by Vegas, in history!
Now, my high school sweetheart was about to be murdered with me, in my arms. Because of my mistake ...
"Huh? Hu ... Huh?" I stuttered, drooled and jerked.
"Wake up, baby! You had a nightmare! You are sweating like a Friday night slut! I know you got the biggest game on Earth coming up, Sunday. The Super bowl is gigantic! Everybody knows that, baby. But stop sweating. Relax. You made it this far, you will win. Believe me, baby. God is with you," Ebony told me.
She was so confident, positive and sure. She was always my motivation. Ebony believed God gave us the natural ability to accomplish anything. Period.
"Ouch. What da?" I quickly snatched the silk sheet off me and looked at my right leg. Dang, Mary Jane, Cain and Zayne!
A red, fire ant bit the living hot sauce pain out of me!
Hold up ... A red ant?
Dreaming of red ski masks ... red shoe ... where they do that at? Was this a sign? My team wear red and black. That gangstafied, powerful, Atlanta color.
"Forget—it!! I'm ready! Give daddy a kiss," I told my sexy, sweet love.
Then, I climbed on top of my future wife for life, and we passionately tongue kissed like erupting volcanoes; sexy hot!
"Go! Go! Go! Deep! Go deep!" Deon yelled to my star wide receiver, Sergio.
"Bam! Touchdown!" I shouted.
"Yeah, playah! Boop! Boop! I told you, I got that goodle, oodle, noodle, fye game, baby!" Deon joked and bragged.
He was our rookie wide receiver. Very talented and quick as the speed of light. He ran 4-2, just like me. We also used Deon to return kicks on the special teams.
Boy, he was so excited to throw a touchdown to Sergio in practice!
He was sticking out his tongue, doing the Moonwalk.
He fell! The entire team laughed.
"You silly. Get up, De," his twin sister, Shawn, said, as she grabbed his left and right hand to pull him up.
Shawn was one of our forty beautiful cheerleaders. Light-skinned and innocent cute.
"Hey! Huddle up. Motivation. Dedication. Preparation. Determination. This is our game, our shine, our show, our glow. Our game to win. We must not slack. Go hard. No slipping. No turnovers. No mistakes. No doubts. We cannot, and will not, underestimate the underdogs. This is the biggest game on Earth. We live our whole lives to play and win. This game, this is it. One, two, three ..."
"We ready!" We all shouted simultaneously when Coach Joshua Brown finished up his pep speech.
Coach Brown was one of the coolest in the NFL, at 37. He could motivate a pig to score a touchdown! Touchdown Porky the Pig! Lol. Coach Brown made you feel like you could do anything!
The team separated. Practice lasted five, long hours.
"Look, dawg. I want this game. I was born and raised in Atlanta. Forever, I love Atlanta. My dreams as a kid were to bring a championship to my city. We need that man, bad!" Sergio told me as we walked out of Pantersville practice field in Decatur, GA.
Sergio was my best friend. He was the top NFL wide receiver, four years in a row. He had fourteen-hundred receiving yards this year.
Super Sergio could catch a bullet with one finger if I threw it!
That boy could catch anything! Plus, he could jump sky high!
I was fresh in the NFL. I took his advice, because he was an experienced vet, and I was an energetic, young rookie.
"What up, nicca?" Micki, a.k.a. Red Bone Shawty, asked me.
I was standing in front of my H-2 Hummer, red and black, of course.
Micki was twenty-one, young, and pretty. She was Coach Brown's feisty, hot girlfriend. You know they met because she my sister. She had that real, red bone attitude, with a little Candler Rd, killa personality. Cause she was humping the best coach in football! You couldn't tell this red chick nothing!
"What it do?" I asked Micki. She swore she ran this team too. Coach Brown was coach of the year, and got a fat eight-million dollar contract. He also had three-hundred million in the bank, from when he played professional football himself. Hot damn and ham if Red Bone Shawty ain't blowing every penny!
"Look! Everybody and their momma asking for the hook-up! Give me free Super Bowl tickets. Your brother is the quarterback. Blah, blah, blah. My step, great-grand cousin and even my god-cousin want free tickets!" Micki said laughing, but shaking her head.
"Lol. Guuurl, god cousin? Where they do that at? That's a new one," Erica said, smiling. Sexy-chocolate, candy body, cutie. She was my powerful running-back, Levi Bailey's wife. Levi just got a one-hundred and twenty million dollar contract.
He was a beast! He once carried five players ten yards on his back, and scored the winning touchdown against Green Bay, to get us to the Super Bowl!
"That's crazy. Some chick named Ice Bread, a male stripper named Juicy Fruit Johnny and another one named Butt Licking Bobby asked me for free tickets, say they went to school with me, girl. Hah, Hah," Ebony, my queen, laughed.
"Guurl. No, they done lost their mind, and their foreheads. Forget—that! I don't care who don't go to the Super Bowl. I'm going! V.I.P. baby. That's right! Micki a.ka Red Bone Shawty, we'll be up through there!" Micki laughed, snapping her fingers.
"True. True. The after party is what's really poppin', anyway!" my baby sister, Pretty Kishauna added, with her Cedar Grove High School cheerleading outfit on. She was the only girl at the school with a Benz.
"You're right! We win! I'ma tear the city up! Paint the city red, baby! A blunt of loud in one hand, and a bottle in the other, that's word to my mother!" Micki added.
"I just want to win. Levi ain't even talking to me right now. He ain't said one word in two weeks! He want to win!" Erica said, crunk.
"Well, I apologize, yall. Everybody can't get a ticket. I did what I could do. I just got to win. We are undefeated. So, I want to stay undefeated. Give me a kiss," I told Ebony.
Then, we got into my big boy truck. I drove off, in deep thought. So much intensity. So much hype. So much pressure. All eyes on me. The starter of the biggest game in the world, the Super Bowl.
Beyoncé is performing at half-time. My whole family and city is cheering. The whole world is watching. The 2012 Super Bowl was the most watched program in American TV history. With an audience of over one-hundred and fifteen million viewers. We will top that! So we MUST bring home the Lombardi trophy! I got to win this! I got to, baby! I got to do this for my dad, who got killed last year. He always believed I would do this, even when I had my doubts. I love you, dad. For Ebony, my high school love ... in Columbia High school, she was the beautiful, brown cheerleader, while I played ball.
In college, at Georgia Tech, we won the national championship. Ebony was a cheerleader. Before each play, right before I got the ball, I would glance over, to see my baby cheering every time.
I love my baby. I love this game.
"I'm pregnant ..."
I slammed on the brakes.
So shocked, I crashed ... slap, smack into the back of a grey Honda.
I squeezed my baby's hand.
"Are you ok?" I asked her.
Her eyes were as big as a football. Her right hand was covering her mouth. She was a little shook up, like dice.
"Ye, yea ..." she replied.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I rolled down my window. It was a mad, Mexican midget. She was adorable, but visibly upset.
"Sir, do you have insurance?" she asked, with a nasty, three-foot tall attitude.
"Insurance? Take this and fix your bumper, baby," I said in a cheerful voice.
When she saw the four-thousand dollars I gave her, she ran faster than a kangaroo on crack!
"Cim, baby. Can you please calm down?"
"Ummm. Yeah, but why you didn't wait till after the Super Bowl to tell me?"
"I know. I thought about that. But, now you should have more motivation to win the game. You have to win this for your wife, your family, your fans, your haters, and now, your unborn child."
When those words came out of her mouth, unborn child ..., I instantly felt a glow. My first born. Cool ...
"Hello?" I said into my ear phone.
"Someone broke into grandma house!" my little sister, Kishana screamed.
"Ummm. I'ma take care of it. Is grandma ok?" I asked.
"No! She is very mad! I'm pissed! Can you come now?"
"I'll be there, Kishana."
What now? My line clicked again.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Hello Cimeon. This is Michael Lackey, the owner of the team. I have a little bad news. The storm from the tornado caused the roof in the dome to collapse. We may have it repaired before Sunday. So let's hope so. The main thing though, let's just win!"
"Sure," I said, shocked.
How much pressure can one man take?!
Just win. Just win. Easier said than done. I sat at the next light, pondering about all the extra pressure that just exploded in my lap, a week before the game of my life. What could happen next?
Get hit by a drunk, race car driver? Get pimp-slapped by a skinny elephant? My star running back, Levi, break his arm? I got shot? I mean ...
"Ouch! Baby, what you do that for?"
"Hah, hah. You got to wake up and smell the coffee!" Ebony said laughing. She scared the living toe nails out of me; yelling in my ear and punching my right leg.
"Boo, I'm woke. Just focused on my destiny, dreams and my goal."
"Cimeon baby, be easy. Stay calm. God is with you. You can't lose, because you are a winner. I love you. Look at me ... I loved you before the fame; before the game. I been here. Before you had any fans. I was your number one fan. Before you heard any cheers, I was cheering for you; holding you, loving you. You're the only man I ever slept with. Now Cim, I want you to put this city on your back. No matter what obstacles come your way. You're a soldier, built to last. You shine under pressure, baby. You always have. You always will. I love you. You will win," she said, staring into my eyes, squeezing and sliding her red, manicured nails slowly up and down my right arm.
I took a deep breath ...
"Awwe Ebony, you always know what to say. You're the best, really. The very best, everything. The best motivator and best person. The best person I ever met. I love you. No doubt. It's just so much on the line at one time. Like a zillion things going wrong all at once."
"Shiiiish. Our love will always win, in the end," she spoke, like my angel, while gently placing her pretty index finger over my lips.
"Muwah," her soft lips kissed mine.
"Love will always win in the end ..." I repeated her words in my mind, out loud; so short and simple, yet powerful and true. I have love. Love for my family, love for my lady. Love for my God. Love for the game. Love for myself. Love for my fans. Love for the world.
"Shut up! I know what I saw, man! Now, who you want? Me or her?" Micki yelled at Coach Brown.
"Micki, listen. I can't leave my wife. I will be a prune face! Micki, she would suck me dry!"
"Coach Brown don't get beat down. Listen-"
"No Micki, you listen. You little red, candy yam. Kids are involved!"
"Stupid! Cut your butt is involved if you don't choose me! I'ma burn this three-million dollar mansion down to the ground! T.L.C. style, baby. You think I care about your measly eight-million dollar contract?! Ank! Wrong answer, buddy roe. I got NFL ballers with fat, one-hundred million dollar contracts begging to taste this strawberry short cake!" Micki yelled, smacking Coach Brown's face, looking like a foxy, female wrestler.
Coach Brown snapped, but in a cool way. He just punched the wall.
"Walls don't punch back, punk," Micki barked, like a cute, female boxer. Then she walked away.
Instantly, Coach Brown grabbed her petite arms, yanking her backwards, causing the foxy girl to stumble.
Like the Candler Rd. killa she was, she pulled out her gun and shoved it into his jaw. The day before the Super Bowl, Atlanta would be coach less.
She pulled the trigger.
Micki, a.k.a. Red Bone Shawty, had struck again. So what? Ain't nobody on earth getting over on Micki.
"Ahh! Ahh! Dang! You crazy pink trick!" Coach Brown took off running, holding his jaw.
He flew through the bathroom door, and slapped his bloody face to the mirror.
A hole was straight through his jaws! Well, at least it was only a pellet gun!
Red Bone Shawty kicked the bathroom door open with her three-hundred and fifty dollar, black, UGG Raya boots.
"Next time, it will be a real gun," Micki yelled, and stormed out in her tight, short, red, lace skirt.
Coach Brown was still staring in the mirror. Stunned that his pretty, little mistress was losing it!
Red Bone Shawty growled like a light-skinned ware wolf, with micro braids! Boop!
Then, the run-way model walked out of the three-thousand-dollar-a-night, down town hotel, after she stuck her gun back into her Gucci purse.
Red Bone Shawty hopped into her delicious, candy apple, red, new sparkling Benz. Yea, the one Coach Brown bought her last Valentine's Day.
She turned on the new Kelly Rowland and Wayne. Then called her big brother.
"I need a million dollars."
He sighed deeply ... "Oh, Micki."
"And some gasoline. Hah, hah," she mumbled to herself, the second Cimeon hung up.
Excerpted from LOVE AND FOOTBALL by JOSHUA LEVI BROWN. Copyright © 2013 Joshua Levi Brown. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Love Rules All.................... 1
We Ready.................... 4
Cheating, Beating.................... 10
Money and Da Power.................... 13
Dive In.................... 16
Practice Makes Perfect.................... 18
Game Time.................... 30
Keep Pushing.................... 37
Only the Strong Survive.................... 42
Beast Mode.................... 46
Half-time Heat.................... 57
Drop Your Heat.................... 61
Eye of a Tiger.................... 70
Shut Up or Blow Up.................... 78
You Sleep, You Slip.................... 88
Poetic-No Justice.................... 99
Cheer Leaders Verses The Cop.................... 108
Cross Roads.................... 112
Wake Up Call.................... 123
Time To Chill.................... 128
Back To Football.................... 135
A-Town Down.................... 138
Dreams Come True.................... 146
Football For Love.................... 153
The Last Dance.................... 178
Always Believe.................... 201
Go Hard or Go Home.................... 203
There Is A God.................... 213