Liz falls in love with Quinn the moment they meet in college. He professes to love her, too. She begins to think about the future, but his past rips them apart. What Liz does next impacts the rest of their lives, but she feels it is the only way… she does it all for love.
Released August 23, 2012
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Public contact information of Author
Twitter: @ann_swann
AUTHOR BIO:
Ann lives in West Texas with her handsome hubby and three rescue pets. All For Love is Ann’s first Contemporary Romance novel. She is the author of the Middle Grade/Young Adult books: The Phantom Pilot, and The Phantom Student. She is hard at work on Book Three, The Phantom of Crybaby Bridge. Though published by a small press, The Phantom Series is currently available only through the author.
All For Love
"The man of her dreams may be the worst thing that ever happened to her."
All For Love
Reviews:
“I started and finished this book in less than a day. It was impossible to put down. This book isn't a fairytale romance, with a prince or even a "happily-ever-after"(although, the ending was great); this book is about real-life romance, one in which people get hurt, deeply hurt, and need to decide whether that person is still the one for them.” Carolyn Arnold ★★★★★
“Ann Swann has done it again! I found myself on the edge of my seat hurrying along to see what was going to happen next once again. Ann has such a wonderful writing style it made me feel I was right there alongside Liz in that little West Texas town. Anxiously awaiting more works from Ann!”
Tara Anderson ★★★★★
“At first glance, this book is a romance. And a romance it is ... a romance of the most true-to-life kind. Instead of getting Prince Charming who can do no wrong, in ALL FOR LOVE, you have Quinn, the flawed, loveable hero who -- through being himself -- not only steals Liz's heart, but changes her life …”
Serena Rodriguez ★★★★★
Excerpt ~ The volleyball game where Liz and Quinn first meet:
We were on our last game when Carol came up to serve. She hit a nice one but José got to it and gulped a mouthful of sand to set it up for Boyd who spotted it for Greg to come in and spike. Everyone could see it was going to crash right at my feet, but there was no way I could get to it; I was half a step away when a lean figure in cutoffs dashed through the middle of the game and dove directly in front of me.
Wild brown hair all tangled up in the setting sun, he flipped the ball onto my waiting hands as if by magic. His grin was electric. It lit up the gloaming as if he’d swallowed the sun. Without a sound, he twisted like a fish escaping the hook and raced around the corner just as some chick with a water balloon appeared on the horizon between the dorms.
“No fair!” Greg cried as I set the ball for Ronnie.
She got it in their weak spot near the back corner—she was good at that—the back left corner was Boyd’s territory. He came charging under the net on the pretense of anger, and tackled her in the bed-soft sand thus effectively ending the game.
At that, we all flopped down, exhausted. I looked around for the smiling boy who’d saved my game, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Who was that?” I asked the group at large.
Boyd cocked an eyebrow at me. “Quinn Rose,” he said. “Math major, I think.” Our school was small, a branch of The University of Texas. Everyone knew someone who knew everyone else. It was like six-degrees of separation on steroids.
Carol grunted affirmation. “Chick chasing him was Delilah, his girlfriend.”
I nodded as if it were really no big deal, but Ronnie’s radar had been alerted by something in the tone of my voice.
“Want me to pass him a note at recess?” Her voice was so coy I wanted to throttle her. Instead, I hopped up, brushed the sand from my shorts, and started toward the dorm. Carol jumped up to accompany me.
“Pizza?” Greg called.
Carol and I turned at the same time. She looked at me and I looked at her. “Sure,” we said in unison.
That night, after pizza and beer with Greg and José, Carol and I went for a stroll on the quad. I loved the splashing refrains of the fountains in the brick courtyard. It was the best place for smoking—back then, you could smoke damn near anywhere.
“He likes you,” Carol said quietly.
“Greg?” My voice was deep because I’d just inhaled.
“José.” She didn’t look at me so I couldn’t judge whether she was serious or facetious. “Greg too, I think.”
I stopped walking. I thought we were all just friends. Romantic entanglements were not something I wanted with either of these guys.
“Nah,” I tried to keep it light. “We’re all just buds. Ronnie’s the one every guy fantasizes about.” After I’d said it, I felt kind of small. Maybe I was a tiny bit jealous of our roommate; after all, she was tall and slim with long smooth red hair. Compared to my average, stocky body, and wavy brown locks, she was a supermodel. I didn’t really care that all the guys zeroed in on Ronnie, though. I was so timid I much preferred the background. I was really surprised Carol thought the two guys had even noticed me.
I mulled it over later that night while I lay in my narrow, dorm-sized bed, but when I finally dozed off, it was with another name in my head: Quinn Rose. His face was in shadow, twisted away from me toward the lights that limned the sand-court, but his crazy hair was lit from underneath, and his smile was everywhere.
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