Ultimate YA Romance Starter Bundle

SWIMMING UPSTREAM
I’m not looking for love my senior year. I’m focused on graduating valedictorian and defending my state swimming title. I can’t afford to have a crush on my classmate, Paul, or to give in to the charms of my rival’s older brother, Dylan.

Dylan is the hot swimmer all the girls are after and he’s not focused on anything, but then he looks my way. I’m the last girl he would ever pay attention to, and he’s the only guy I shouldn’t fall for. But then he asks me out. Will he be the distraction I need from my performance anxiety or will he be too good to be true?

Dive into the first book of the Love is a Triathlon series and swim along with Ash during the first trimester of her senior year. Swimming Upstream is a sweet sports romance with swoon-worthy young adult characters. Grab your copy and float along with the beginning of Ash’s story as she dips into dating, first kisses, and first love.

THE DREAM JOB
I’m the senior who attends an exclusive private school for free because my dad is a teacher. I’m ready for a drama free year when a new student starts attending Dream Prep Academy. I’m offered a job guiding Milo around school and I jump at the opportunity because his mom can give me a recommendation for my dream internship.

Milo and I joke I’m paid to date him, and soon everyone believes it’s true. But I cross the professional line when my feelings turn all too real and threaten my chance at the internship. But the joke is on me when my dream job is staring me in the face. Will I see what is right in front of me in time or will I wreck any chance I have of a dream come true?

The Dream Job is a standalone sweet romance in the Dream Prep Academy series. It’s perfect for fans of fake dating, sweet gestures, and swoony moments.

TRAIL CROSSINGS
Lucy refuses to bike. Aidan vows to not give up on her. Will she choose the right trail to find healing?

Dealing with survivor’s guilt, Lucy has let her life fall to pieces. Until a crash, she was at the top of the youth mountain biking scene. When Lucy’s best friend, Ava, dies because of the crash, Lucy withdraws from everything in her life. Eight months later, during the summer before her senior year, Lucy is a dark shadow of her former self. Now Lucy’s parents are forcing her to do things and Aidan, her training partner and Ava’s twin brother, reveals his true feelings for Lucy.

Burdened by fear and guilt, Lucy struggles to put together the missing pieces of her former life. Scared to bike and afraid to admit her real feelings, Lucy sabotages Aidan’s attempts to get close to her. Turning to running and a new friend, Lucy discovers she has the choice in which trail to take. Reconnecting with her former friends, Lucy finds the missing piece in her life and decides to bike after Aidan. But Aidan is carrying a guilt as deep as Lucy’s, and when Aidan crashes, Lucy is faced with the same nightmare she thought she outran.

Discover a story of overcoming guilt, rediscovering yourself, and finding love, all with a side of sports.

SWIMMING UPSTREAM
The gray t-shirt I pull over my head engulfs my body, and I want to cower in it and hide. I loathe this locker room with its chipped purple lockers and wood benches likely to give you a splinter. It smells of hair products, perfume, and flowery deodorant. The sounds of high-pitched giggles and obnoxious chit chat echo through the room. In every open space there are girls fixing their hair, girls reapplying makeup, and girls changing into yoga clothes. Their sports bras and tiny spandex bottoms, which would never pass dress code, seem to be acceptable for a PE yoga class.

Every senior is required to take one trimester of a physical education class to graduate. Many of the senior girls take yoga, because if you show up you get an A. It seems most of the popular seniors registered for yoga. Lucky me. I get to share a locker room with them. How is it the popular crowd always ends up in classes together and I rarely get one class with a friend?

Amid the popular clique, I’m uncomfortable and unseen. In the same locker bay as them, I huddle in the corner. I straighten my too large t-shirt and shove my stuff in a locker.

“I ate way too much for lunch.” Caitlyn runs her fingers through her enviable long blonde hair. “I look bloated in this outfit.”

Caitlyn doesn’t look bloated, and in my opinion, she could eat a second lunch and still look incredible. Everyone knows she’ll be voted homecoming queen this year.

“No,” Lark, another uber popular girl, says. “You look amazing.”

Faced away from the popular girls, I roll my eyes and clasp my lock. These girls don’t know what letter my name starts with, and yet I know all of them. My palms are clammy from nerves because of the gym class I’m about to attend, but a class with this crowd would give me a panic attack. I tiptoe my way around the popular set, like a mouse skittering past a cat. The locker room door squeaks open with my push and I exhale in relief. The hallway is deserted and quiet, just how I like it, a far cry from the bustling madness between class periods. The silence is blissful, and I stare at the bright green door in front of me. It’s a doorway to my future and a path to help me improve. It doesn’t matter if I’m the only girl.

After a few seconds of hesitation, I shove through the door. A wave of humidity washes over me and my nostrils are assailed with the stench of sweat, body odor, and probably lingering mold. The putrid smell nearly causes me to gag. I breathe through my mouth to avoid the unpleasant aroma and scan the area.

The school weight room is already crowded with guys. They enter through a door leading to the boys’ locker room. Golden Valley High was built in the sexist years when weightlifting was a male dominated activity. You’d think we still separate genders since I’m the only female here. Why don’t any of the females who CrossFit and weight train attend my school?

I gravitate to the back corner and hug the wall. This is an inconspicuous place to stand and with darting eyes I observe my surroundings. There are a few recognizable guys from the football team. One football player, sporting a sweat band from the eighties, bench presses and another spots him. Other guys curl free weights or do squats with dumbbells equal to my weight. Everyone seems to know what to do, except me. I shuffle on my feet, cross my arms over my chest, and remind myself why I signed up for this class. I’m here to get stronger and improve my swimming.

This past summer I attended a swim camp at the State University, and the swim coach devised a weight training plan to help me build muscle and drop time this season. My focus this year is to improve my swimming and maintain my straight A’s. There isn’t room for anything else.

“You!” A deep voice startles me out of my inner thoughts. “What are you doing here? Yoga is upstairs.”

My head jerks away from the benching football players to see who’s speaking. Mr. Micah, the head trainer and a physical education teacher, points at me. My cheeks feel warm as boys’ heads turn my direction. It’s like I’ve descended into a sacred temple where females aren’t allowed. Mr. Micah’s eyes narrow and he walks my way with short, purposeful strides. He may lack height, but he makes up for it in muscle size. His biceps are larger than my thighs.

Saliva builds up in the back of my throat and I swallow hard. “I’m Ash Stampford. I signed up for weight training.” I bump into the wall when I take an uncertain step back.

“Are you sure?” Mr. Micah looks up at me, the top of his buzz cut at my nose. A frown coats his face. “I don’t get many females in this class during first trimester. You’d better not be here…”

He leaves the sentence hanging and my shoulders hunch. My mind and everyone else’s fill in the blank. Some of the guys nearby try not to snicker. Others don’t even hide it and they laugh out loud. My lips quiver while I dig my fingernails into my palms.

“I signed up for weight training.” My voice cracks. “To help my swimming.”

Mr. Micah eyes me as if it’s the silliest statement he’s ever heard.

“Ash is the best swimmer in the school,” a male voice says.