Book - "In Touch"

International sassy author, Cd Brennan is about to publish her first book in a new Rugby Romance Series called "Play On" .

Fancy reading about a sexy, passionate and fierce Irishman? Padraig O'Neale is your man.

Back home in Ireland, Padraig played at the elite level in Rugby, and wasn't short of female admirers. When his sporting career hits the rocks, and he's forced to cross the Atlantic, his celebrity appeal doesn't follow him to the USA.

Wooing the American woman he wants but shouldn't have—the footy club's physical therapist—Gillian Sommersby, is a challenge he's up for.

Gillian is a quirky and original heroine. There's laughs to be had from the wacky treatments she gives the footy guys.    


Here's the blurb for "In Touch"

Irish rugby star, Padraig O’Neale, has fecked up his life and is one angry man. When caught using a banned substance for his back pain, Padraig is excused from both his provincial club and the Irish International team. Right before World Cup selection. 

Out of choices, his agent convinces Padraig to play for a small American club in Michigan. Just until things settle down. But when Coach asks the team physical therapist, Gillian Sommersby, to help the newest Blues player with his issues, Padraig finds himself trying every wacky treatment out there from stinky salves to music to yoga. 

Like her therapies, the therapist herself is a bit…odd. The cute college grad in Converse and glasses doesn’t seem all that impressed with Padraig’s celebrity status, nor gives a shite about his excuses. As it turns out, she might be exactly what he needs…

"In Touch " will be published on Amazon, 1 September 2015. It is available for pre-order right now for the special Kindle price of $0.99US. Here's the link,  Amazon.Com

Cd Brennan kindly provided an early preview of the story with this excerpt.

As soon as Gillian closed the door, she launched into him. “It’s none of my business, but you should be careful with Jenn. She works her way through all the boys.”

He dropped his bag, a half-smirk on his face. “You’re right on the first account. It isn’t any of your business. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m not worried about you. I know that Coach doesn’t like it when the boys get together with Jenn.” Even when Andrew had played with the Blues, Jenn had been a tease, having started her flirtations young at the ripe old age of sixteen. She had some sort of connection with the club, an ex-player’s niece or granddaughter or something. More than one player had been off their game after fooling around with her. She played the lads against each other, and it was rotten.

Padraig had stepped around the physio table and into her space. God, he was big. She stood her ground. No alpha gorilla behavior would intimidate her. “Just giving you fair warning, is all.”

“I’m good, thanks. Now, we done here?”

What? They hadn’t even started. “No. This isn’t about Jenn. Coach really did ask me to help with your back pain.” Gillian unzipped her bag where she’d placed it on the table and grabbed a small jar of ointment. “I’ll use one of my special treatments on—”

“I’m not interested.” Padraig took a step back.

“I can show you some exercises specifically for the lower back, and if you apply this cream twice a day, you’ll notice a change within a week.”

His fist clenched at his side. “I told you I’m not interested in your help. I have a routine that my physio back home gave me. That’s working.”

“You’re not in pain?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Nope.”

But she could tell he was lying by the way his eyes had darted to the corner of the room and back before he’d answered. The way they shone, all glassy. The way he walked with stiffness in his step. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not anymore.

“Take your shirt off, please, and lie on the table with your head at the far side. I’m sure you are familiar with massage. Head goes down in the center.”

She pulled her hoodie over her head and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. She bent at the waist and shook her hair down, bunched it up, and pulled it through the ponytail holder that resided permanently on her wrist. When she stood up, Padraig was staring at her as if she’d grown two heads. Maybe she had a ketchup stain on her tank top. She held the shirt out but saw nothing. Huh.

At his almost imperceptible nod, her courage grew. Just like any client. “Lie here on your stomach.”

He did as instructed and settled his head onto his overlapped hands, elbows jutting out like chicken wings. In gentle, fluid movements, she un-tucked each hand and arm and let them trail down the sides of his body. She lifted his hips to lower his track pants so they rode low on his bum. Sweet mercy. His ass was divine. Rounder and juicier than a summer cantaloupe.

But she was a professional, and he, a client. And a jock. A deep breath in and out. Gillian uncapped the jar and rubbed her palms with the ointment.

“What the hell is that smell?”

“None of your worry. It works really well. Hasn’t anyone told you the smellier the concoction, the better the results?”

“Just like Rory. You are all mad,” came muffled through the table.

“Crazy knows crazy. Now shush.”

She started at his lower lumbar and moved her hands in sweeping motions up his back, around his side, under his armpits, and finally over his shoulders. She began again at his lower back and kneaded and rolled along his spine, then outward, circling her palms over knotted muscles. Hitching his pants lower, she delved under his boxer band, massaging the top of his bum, smoothing the muscle out and away from his spine.

As normally happened once she was in rhythm, the time ticked by. After a few repetitions along his torso, she stopped to check on him.

He appeared to be asleep. The endorphins released by the massage weighted him to the table, as happened with most of her clients when they fell into a peaceful lethargy. So quiet, she couldn’t hear him breathe. Wide back, broad shoulders, dark, tousled hair. A man any woman would want. Except for Gillian. He was no Lloyd Dobler.

So not to startle him, Gillian withdrew her hands from his back with a soft swish of her fingers. With a deep breath, she took a step back and waited. But he didn’t move.

She should really be getting him up and out the door so he could catch his lift from Del, but she couldn’t get herself to do it. Instead of waking him, she decided to let him rest. So she took a seat on one of the chairs along the wall. Leaning her elbow on her knee and resting her jaw in her hand, she watched him sleep. A dark, manly brow that had finally relaxed. Black, thick lashes. Strong nose and a top lip that came to a defined point.

He was gorgeous, really.

She was so mesmerized that when his eyes blinked open, she screamed. Just like in a horror movie when the corpse comes to life. She had scrambled halfway up her chair when he let out a laugh.

Her hand over her racing heart, she didn’t see the humor, but then, he’d only opened his eyes, which didn’t normally elicit such a dramatic response. She was still shaky as she gathered her gear together. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move, first to sitting where he waited a few beats, then onto his feet.

As he was pulling his shirt over his head, Del barged through the door. “Everything all right here?”

Both she and Padraig responded in unison. “Fine.”

Del raised a brow. “Uh-huh.”

Rory crowded in the door behind him and said to Padraig, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, all set.” He stopped at the door and turned back to Gillian. “Thanks.”

And then he was gone, and Gillian was still breathless.

About Cd Brennan

Having traveled and lived all over the world, Cd Brennan now enjoys reliving her glory days by writing about them. Feisty heroines with wanderlust or sexy rugby heroes who breathe passion for more than just the sport.

Aussie/Yankee twined, Cd is now settled in Michigan with a rugby player of her own and two wee sons who are still adapting to the snow. A full-time editor and mum, her and her hubby still dream of starting up a buffalo farm. And maybe some chickens and pigs, too. She loves rugby, traveling, and all things from the 80s.

Doesn’t watch TV so don’t chat to her about that, but she loves to hear from readers about anything else! Perhaps some cooking suggestions? She’s desperate in the kitchen! Find her on loads of your favorite places.

Connect with Cd Brennan

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Get hooked by a book and enjoy your week!
Ashlyn