Hi, Everyone! So how many of you would like to shoot me, punch me, torture me, set me on fire, or throw tiny projectile objects at me?
Shit, all of you?
Can't say I'm surprised at all. I'd actually like to do that to myself. I told myself I'd never be one of those authors that kept her readers waiting for months for an update, because I completely hate it when I have to wait for my updates and the story was just getting good.
I'm sure many of you have just given up on my stories because they aren't worth the wait. But, hopefully most of you are sticking with me and don't absolutely hate my guts right now.
Towards the end of school my life was getting ridiculously hectic and I was out of town almost every weekend for volleyball tournaments and my schoolwork load was piling up and writing, unfortunately, took the backseat.
Because of my crazy life I've been stressed and writing just isn't coming easily to me, and it almost always has. It's really frustrating to the point of tears for me, because I have all the ideas just bubbling up in my head and I can't get them to flow right and I can't put anything into words.
I know exactly where I want 'Beautiful Catastrophe' and 'Thursday Nights' to go, each of them have very detailed plot outlines that I follow, but also make random changes to. For example, the main reason that I wrote Thursday Nights was because of one of the last scenes wouldn't get out of my head and I just had to write it or it would drive me crazy.
Please trust me on this, if I were to put out chapters right now they'd be about five pages long and they would be absolutely horrible and they would ruin everything.
But, I've been working really hard on fixing this goddamn writers block and should have a chapter or two up within the next week or two... fingers crossed.
Please stay with me and if you have ANY questions feel free to PM me and ask me, I am very friendly and love hearing from you even if you hate my guts and want me to burn in hell...
Oh! Before I forget here is something I actually managed to produce that doesnt suck...
This is a new story called My Coach's Daughter, here's a sneak peek of chapter one, (TN readers there's more then what you've read already)
I watched my dad anxiously on the TV, the NFL draft was today and I was praying to God that he wouldn't give up his star quarterback because of me. But, knowing my father and his damn rules I knew that James didn't have a chance in hell to stay in Dallas.
One of the announcers sounded surprised, "According to our sources, it looks like Coach Charles Swan has decided that he is going to trade out James Clark to the Jets. Which is a huge shock, seeing as Clark lead him to second place in the Superbowl this year. I've never seen a coach do something of this nature. He'll most likely have to pull in a QB from college now."
"Shit, Charlie!" I cursed at his picture on the TV.
Finally, Charlie's pick was up. He got up out of his chair and walked confidently to the podium. "The Dallas Cowboys choose Edward Cullen from UCLA."
I clicked the TV off and shot off a text to my father knowing he'd get it as soon as he walked off.
You're in serious trouble. What in God's name are you doing? Do you want to lose another Superbowl, because that's what's going to happen if you let a rookie play. Just because James couldn't keep it in his pants doesn't mean you have to kick him off the team dad.
Your very pissed off daughter.
I sent it and threw my phone across the living room, missing the TV by a mere inch or two. I stomped up to my room and turned on the music full blast.
Who the hell is Edward Cullen anyways?
It was the first day of real practice and it was blistering hot in Dallas. Not that I wasn't used to heat, hell I lived in LA for four years before coming here. But that was a different kind of heat. Dallas heat was dry, suffocating. Practice was going to be hell. I already could feel it. I grabbed my pads out of the trunk of my Volvo and slowly headed towards the locker room, showing my ID to the guard waiting at the gate.
When I got there only a few guys had shown up. You could tell which ones were veterans and which ones were rookies, rookies had this green tint to them, looking nervous, like they could puke at any given moment. And I'm absolutely certain that I had the exact same expression on my face as well.
Twenty minutes later I was ready and anxious to start, today would be the first time I was going to be able to actually touch a football and practice with my team since my senior year at UCLA. But this was the big leagues, things would be different and much harder.
The locker room was packed and full of adrenaline and testosterone. I heard a whistle and a loud, scruffy voice. Coach Swan. "Listen up guys, especially the rookies." A few of the guys murmured their hellos to the coach. "As many of you know today is the first day of practice, we'll be working hard, you will be in excruciating pain, and many of you will run back to your mommies and daddies with your tail tucked in between your legs like a little girl. If you can't take the pain then get the hell off of my field, simple as that. But it's all worth it when you get to wake up every goddamn morning and see this on your finger." He pointed to a platinum Superbowl championship ring, the one he himself had won back in the seventies as a quarterback for Cincinnati. He pointed to the two men on either side of him. "This is the defensive coach Billy Black and the offensive coordinator Harry Clearwater, these gentlemen know what the hell they're talking about, so listen well and learn. This year, like last year, we will also be joined by my daughter, Bella. She knows the game of football like the back of her hand, even tried to play in high school, she'll be around to give tips and pointers, take what she says seriously. She will not take shit from any of you and she can dish it out twice as bad as any one of you. And that brings me to my one and only rule. Do not touch my daughter, if I hear one word out of Bella's mouth about anything inappropriate or if I see it myself you'll end up like James Clark, traded to the worst team in the NFL. I do not care how good you are or how far you've taken the team, you will not be here next season. Mark my words, men."
I looked at Charlie, he was decently tall and was well built except for his newly developing beer belly. He had dull brown hair kept in a short crop. His eyes were a sullen brown surrounded by puffy, sagging skin. If his daughter looked anything like his father, staying away from wouldn't be an issue for me.
"Let's go guys." A few players let out loud yells of excitement, while my breakfast threaten to spew everywhere.
A few hours later we were running up and down the stairs of the stadium when coach called us down for a rare water break. I grabbed a paper cup from the stack and filled it with ice cold water from the cooler. It was gone in two seconds.
Emmett McCarty, arguably the best defensive player in the nation, grabbed a cup of water and grinned at me, "Hey Boss Man. How's your first practice going so far?"
"It's the closest thing I've come to hell, but nothing I can't handle." I said confidently.
"So, coach didn't scare you with his pre-season speech?"
"Nah, nothing I haven't heard before, but the 'don't touch my daughter' thing was new for me." I filled my cup again, trying to hydrate myself for the next three hours of practice.
"Yeah, he's real protective over Bells, always has been, when he found out about her and James he went ballistic. I can't blame James for trying though."
"What, is she cute or something?" I crumbled up my cup and threw it into a large trashcan.
He laughed humorlessly at me, "Edward, man are you in for it." He hit me on the helmet a few times before running away to go join the next drill. I ran up to Coach Clearwater and got ready for a passing drill. Mike Newton, a two year veteran QB was in line behind me, I heard him let out a soft moan. I backed away from him slowly. That was just awkward and wrong on so many levels. I followed his eyes to the other side of the field.
It was a girl about my age yelling at Coach Swan, her long, thin arms flailing in the air. She was in Daisy Duke shorts, her long legs going on for at least ten miles, somehow the cowboy boots she had on made her look incredibly sexy. her shirt was cut off right below her perfect rack showing her well-toned midriff. Her skin was a light bronze, throwing off light to make her look ethereal. I took my eyes off her body and noticed that her dark brown hair was thrown up into a high ponytail. I held back a groan as I stared at her greedily. I was already thinking of ways to getting her into my bed and fucking her until she's sore for weeks.
I looked over at Mike and knocked on his shoulders. "Is that one of the infamous cheerleaders?" I asked hopefully, knowing that if she was I'd get to see her in next to nothing every game.
He laughed at me. "God, I wish. But, no. That, my friend, is thee one and only Isabella Swan."
Oh dear God in heaven, please help me.
"Conditioning, Dad. Really! Are you fucking stupid? You're putting them through conditioning when they have a spring game in two days. They're all gonna be sorer than fuck and are gonna look like idiots trying to run up and down the field against the Dolphins. What you should be doing is going over plays again and again until its engraved in their dreams." I ranted at my father who just sat there and stared at me with his whistle hanging limply from his lips.
"Bella, calm down." I felt my eyes grew wider than I thought possible.
"I will not calm down, Charlie. They're not even close to being ready for a game!" I huffed loudly as my chest rose and fell roughly.
"Bella, listen to me. I have been a coach for twenty years I know that they aren't ready."
I started to protest but then stopped after his words computed fully in my mind. "Wait, what. Then why-"
He cut me off. He blew his whistle and yelled at them to rotate their conditioning stations. "Bella, I rescheduled the Dolphins game. So, just take a breather, I think your hair is turning gray. This team is my responsibility, not yours. I know what I'm doing here, Bells." He patted me on the top of my head.
I turned and walked off, up to the press box of the practice field where my two best friends, Rosalie and Alice, were eating their lunch. "So, what's the news from Papa Swan?" Ro popped a french fry in her mouth and smirked.
"He moved the Dolphins game so that he could get them all into shape, or some dumb shit like that, I swear he doesn't tell me anything anymore." They both chuckled at me.
"So, did you get a better look at the fresh meat?" Alice was of course talking about the fresh round of rookies that were lucky enough to be drafted into the Cowboys line-up this year.
"Of course I did Ali bug." We all picked up our binoculars and they listened intently as I pointed out the best of the best. "And finally ladies, one of the best asses I have ever seen in my years as an avid football fan, I direct you to the new rookie QB in the number 17 jersey."
They both nodded in appreciation. "Okay, he definitely wins, no contest." Alice slurped at her milkshake.
"He deserves a motherfucking trophy or a certificate or something. What's his name?"
"Ethan or Edmund something, but I honestly do not give a shit. His name is Senor Nice Ass for all I care." I smiled widely as I looked at Senor Nice Ass's ass for another good five minutes as the team switched into a scrimmage drill. It took all I had not to get down on my knees and thank God that Charlie was finally running plays with them.
I watched in pain as the second string team, led by Senor Nice Ass, was obliterated by the first string, who was led by Mike Newton of all people. The only reason Mike was on the team was because he's my father's ex-girlfriend's son and Charlie felt bad for him.
It only took one more botched play by the new QB before I was running down onto the field, by-passing my father who was screaming profanities at me to get off the 'goddamn field' before I got hit by a linebacker. I could hear the crashing of helmets as I tore towards SNA. Emmett's voice broke through my haze as he yelled at the team to stop play. SNA saw me coming and his eyes widen, good you better be scared.
I grabbed his facemask. "What the fuck are you doing?" He took out his mouth piece and then his helmet after I reluctantly let it go.
"Excuse me?" He was breathing hard and it took me a moment to come back into my thoughts after meet his amazing emerald eyes and his sweaty copper mess of hair.
"You're running the play completely wrong." I felt Charlie's arm of the back of my arm, I turned around and shook him off. "Look, whatever your name is-"
"Edward, my name is Edward Cullen." He said softly.
"Aww, well my name is Bella Swan and I like long walks on the beach and staring dreamily into my lover's eyes and holding hands. Look, Edwin I don't care what your name is, I just want you to run the goddamn play right."
He looked shocked, "Okay, then show me how to do it." I rolled my eyes and grabbed his helmet from him.
I pulled the huddle in, while SNA stood directly behind me. I bent over to readjust my boot and someone shoved SNA into the back of me, making his groin collide with my ass which gave me inappropriate thoughts. I shook them off and I stood back up. "Okay guys, same play again. Arizona. Tyler I want you to run your cuts harder, stop being such a pussy. Alright, let's go."
I put the helmet on roughly and cringed as the helmet's sweat soaked my freshly cleaned hair. I got into position behind the center who's name evaded me at this very moment. "Arizona on two! Hut, hike." The ball snapped back into my hands without fumble, I knew that the guys weren't stupid enough to hit me but all I could think in my head was don't let them hit you, get it out of your hands, Bella, throw a good pass, score.
I watched as Tyler came across my vision perfectly but I also saw Eric Yorkie waiting patiently for me to throw it to Tyler so that he could intercept it. Option two, Bella. Find option two. I knew I couldn't run, I had cowboy boots on, so that was out. I smiled as Laurent broke free and sprinted up the field about forty yards away from me I hurled the ball towards him in a perfect spiral. I took off my helmet and shoved it into Edward's chest, and smiled as the ball fell perfectly into Laurent's hands and he ran into the end zone. "And that is how Arizona is done." I swatted him on the butt as I walked away.
Just let me know what you think, and again I apologize for the delay in chapters. :(