I met Jessica Peterson when she approached me to review her book Lessons in Gravity over the summer. When I found out it was book #2 of the series I HAD to go and read book #1 first 😉 (You know me and my book OCD) This series had me hooked! The way she describes all of the settings makes you feel like you are right in Madrid.
I was really excited for book #3, Lessons in Letting Go, and I have to say… I think it might be the best out of the series. Not only was it a great story, but it had a message behind it, which I found allowed the reader to really connect with the characters.
This book releases on Dec. 12th! Scroll to the bottom for an exclusive excerpt!
Also Jessica has graciously gifted me 2 e-book copies of Lessons in Letting Go to Giveaway on the Blog! Enter on the facebook page on the pinned Giveaway Post!
Soccer star Rhys Maddox’s recovery from an injury isn’t going well—until one night with a beautiful American and a few terrible pick-up lines changes everything. With Laura at his side, he plays smarter, runs faster, and fights harder than he ever has on the pitch. She’s just the good luck charm he needs to turn his flailing career around.
Laura Bennet begins her semester in Madrid with plans to ditch bad habits and worse boyfriends. But when she unexpectedly gets caught up in Rhys’s A-list life, her plans are put on hold. Who wouldn’t skip class to fly on a private jet with a studly Welsh footballer? It’s a no brainer, or so she thinks. Turns out Rhys’s glamorous lifestyle hides an obsession with appearances—an obsession that makes her totally miserable. Determined to take back her happiness, Laura decides to dump Rhys and tackle a “Spain Bucket List” on her own.
But Rhys isn’t letting his good luck charm go without a fight. He’s spent his entire life trying to earn his way into the big leagues, and he’ll do anything to win—even risk his carefully crafted image to help Laura with her bucket list. Will he be able to let go of his ego? Or will he and Laura ultimately let go of each other?
This was an amazing book, and it held a really important message within it’s pages. Being “perfect” will never make you happy, being true to yourself is what will bring you real happiness.
Laura always tried to be “perfect”. The perfect girlfriend, with the perfect looks, and the perfect body. When she realized how unhappy she was with herself she tried to make a change when she got to Madrid, but old habits die hard, and when she starts to fall in love with Rhys, she starts to fall back into old patterns.
Rhys is a star player on Madrid’s soccer team. He has to make sure he is the best and always has to make sure he’s seen in a good light. Keeping up with his Instagram, and making sure he stays Mr. Popular is a top priority for him, especially because his family is counting on him.
When Rhys and Laura meet, it all seems great, but eventually their need to be perfect starts a toxic spiral downward. Before they can be happy with each other, they must be happy with themselves.
The first 1/3 of this book was a little slow for me, especially because during that time we see the characters trying to be”perfect” and it kind of annoyed me, I really didn’t like either of these characters at the beginning. Laura couldn’t stand up for herself, and Rhys was just an ass, always taking and he was so materialistic. The book really turned for me during the one party scene when Laura finally realizes she can’t live like that anymore. After that I connected better to them, and it’s because they were finally starting to be true to themselves.
This book was excellent, and I loved seeing the journey of Rhys and Laura’s relationship play out. I think my favorite scene was at the airport 🙂 It was absolutely adorable! I highly recommend this book!
I can’t wait for more books from this series. Jessica Peterson’s writing style totally draws you in, and I love how she describes all the settings throughout the series.
My Rating: 5 Stars!!!
Connect With the Author
Jessica Peterson is seriously one of the nicest authors I have met so far on my blogging journey! Go and say hi 😉
Check out this Awesome Excerpt!
“Zat, it was fucking awesome, mate!” Olivier says, pounding me on the back. “Where did it come from? For so many months, you play like a terrible child. But today? Today you play like a champion.”
“Thanks, dickhead,” I say, laughing as I tug on my trousers. The familiar scents of the locker room—sweat, soap, antiseptic—surround me. For the first time in forever, they fill me with hope. Happiness. I’m actually glad to be here. “Nice goal, by the way.”
“Not as nice as ze assist.”
“That’s it, Cabbage!” William Wallace—I don’t think anyone knows his real name anymore—appears at my elbow, clapping loudly. “Whatever girl you and your dobber mates were chattin’ about at training, I want you to see more of her! I haven’t seen ye play like this since before ye balls dropped.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“I mean it,” he says, looking me in the eye. “Ye’re comin’ back, lad. Keep it up, yeah?”
I fight back a smile. The relief that floods me—the disbelief that my luck might actually be turning—is overwhelming. I finally played like the legend I hope to be. In this sport, legends get paid very, very well. And heaven knows I could do a lot of things for a lot of people with that money.
My sponsors lit up my mobile tonight. I even got a new one—a giant diamond company—that promised to pay me twenty thousand euros if I showed up at their event tomorrow night.
Needless to say, I cleared my schedule and accepted the invitation. Relationships with sponsors are fragile, so I always make an effort to put my best foot forward and attend every event they invite me to.
I shake hands, slap backs, smile as the squad compliments me on the pass. But all the while I’m thinking of only one thing.
I admit I’m superstitious—what athlete isn’t?—but even I’m not daft enough to think my legendary performance today has anything to do with Laura, or the ridiculously intense orgasms we had together. Orgasms are magical, sure, but they don’t have magical powers.
Because that feeling I got when I gunned down the pitch, the way my instincts took over, and guided me—it came from the same deeply buried place inside me that came alive when I fucked Laura, her eyes wet and lucid, her hair wild, her silky skin flushed.
Maybe coach is right. Maybe Laura did make me play any better today. It makes sense—sort of. Nothing else about my life has changed in the past week. I ate the same food, trained the same way, slept my customary nine hours a night.
Hanging out with Laura was the only deviation from my carefully scripted schedule. It was the only time I had fun, cut loose. I spend so much time doing the things I should or need to do; I rarely do what I want. I wanted to get naked with Laura, so I did. There was something so…liberating about it.
Sure, I’ve thought about Laura this week. I haven’t called her, though, because that’s my rule. But I have to admit that even my training sessions were better—every single one of them.
I suppose playing so well in the match today just confirms that there’s something at work here.
That I finally played really, really well for the first time since blowing out my knee after I slept with Laura could be purely coincidental. It could be a not-so-funny joke, engineered by the big guy in the sky. The connection between my performance and Laura could mean nothing.
Then again, it could mean everything. It could mean the difference between being demoted from first team, and making all my dreams come true. If I keep playing like I did tonight, there’s a seriously exciting future ahead of me. A future where I can do right by my family, and prove to the world I’m not going to wash up like my deadbeat dad. A future with the biggest sponsors and the biggest paychecks and the best bet to live the life I’ve always wanted for myself, and for mum, and for Maggie.
The kind of life dad promised us, but never delivered on.
I’m certainly not alone in my superstitions. Alexandr swore it was wearing the bright yellow boots his wife “blessed” with a kiss every morning that made his performance in last year’s Euro Cup so astounding. Fred’s got his ice cream. Sergio bangs on the brick wall outside the locker room exactly six times before every match. If he doesn’t, his play will be rotten (so he says). As athletes, so much of our professional lives—our successes, our failures—depends on chance. To touch the divine, and play like the gods we want to be, the timing’s got to be just right; the stars have to align; that ever-elusive shadow called luck must be on our side.
No one knows what it is, exactly, that keeps that shadow in our corner, or lures it away. I’d sell my soul to know the nebulous math that solves the equation in my favor. But as much as I believe in the power chance, I also believe in my own power—my own agency. I can’t control luck, but I can run after it as hard and as fast as I can.
Tonight, I ran pretty damn fast.
Shrugging into my suit jacket, I know what I have to do. I have too much at risk to underestimate this Laura thing. Maybe it’s real, maybe it’s not, but I will do anything—bloody anything—to keep my stars aligned.
Lucky for me, that “anything” is a gorgeous girl with an even more gorgeous body.