FALSE START
GODS OF THE GRIDIRON: BOOK 2
Shanna Swenson
FALSE START
Shanna Swenson
FALSE START is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, businesses, companies, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Shanna Swenson
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-7329626-6-8
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, information storage and retrieval systems or other electronic or mechanical means, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names, such as the NFL and its teams, used within this book are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publisher nor the book are associated with any products or vendors mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within have endorsed this book. The Atlanta Gladiators are a fictitious football team used for entertainment purposes only.
www.shannaswenson.com
For permission requests, write to the author at [email protected]
Edited by Jennifer Soucy
ebook design by: OliviaProDesign
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Contents
FOREWORD
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EPILOGUE
SNEAK PEAK AT PASS INTERFERENCE
AFTERWORD
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ALSO BY SHANNA SWENSON
ABOUT SHANNA SWENSON
ZEUS- THE KING OF THE GODS
"O Zeus, much-honoured, Zeus supremely great, to thee our holy rites we consecrate, our prayers and expiations, king divine, for all things to produce with ease through mind is thine. Hence mother earth (gaia) and mountains swelling high proceed from thee, the deep and all within the sky. Kronion (Cronion) king, descending from above, magnanimous, commanding, sceptred Zeus; all-parent, principle and end of all, whose power almighty shakes this earthly ball; even nature trembles at thy mighty nod, loud-sounding, armed with lightning, thundering god. Source of abundance, purifying king, O various-formed, from whom all natures spring; propitious hear my prayer, give blameless health, with peace divine, and necessary wealth."
—Orphic Hymn 15 to Zeus (trans. Taylor) (Greek hymns C3rd B.C. to 2nd A.D.)
Zeus most glorious and most great, Thundercloud, throned in the heavens!
—Homer’s Iliad
For my first cousins—Brandy, Jessica, Paige, April, Brooke, Diane, and Rachel
I absolutely loved spending my childhood with you!
May we never stop dreaming
FOREWORD
In case you weren’t sure—the male MC in this book, Brett “Brickhouse” McFadden was inspired by none other than the legendary gunslinger himself #4 for the Green Bay Packers, Brett Lorenzo Favre.
Since I was thirteen-years-old, the man and his incredible talents have always captivated me.
So, without further ado, meet who I deemed Zeus, the king of the gods, on the following pages…
PROLOGUE
It was the coldest, most dreary day in February that Brett “Brickhouse” McFadden could ever remember. The wind was unrelenting and the rain merciless, coming down with such force that it stung his back through his thick, black leather jacket. He stood, frigid as stone, at the graveside service of his best friend and favorite wide receiver, Hunter Thomas. The torrential rain pounded along the tarp overhead, which whipped continuously in the wind. The storm drowned out the preacher’s eulogy, adding to the already solemn mood of the day.
Brett looked over to Hunter’s widow, Madison Hope Thomas, the woman who’d been his best friend since they first met as children at the ripe age of seven. She sat in front and to the right of him, not far from his reach or his gaze. His heart went out to her. She appeared broken and numb; he knew she was because he also felt the same way. He’d been in the car with Hunter the day he died. He was driving Hunter’s car when they’d been hit. He’d been at the hospital when Hunter was pronounced dead.
It was a horrible nightmare he should soon awake from at any moment, yet he continued to be encapsulated unwillingly in it. He watched the tears stream down Madi’s face in a continuous flow—or maybe it was the rain; he honestly couldn’t tell. She’d given up the handkerchief long ago when it became as soaked as everything else was.
The preacher seemed to be done with his sermon and stepped toward Madi. She stood and wrapped her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. She’d known the old man most her life, Reverend James Young; he’d been her mentor, her preacher and her baptizer.
Brett’s heart ached for her. She and Hunter had been married for a little over five years and they’d loved each other immensely. Hunter had been an easy going, fun-loving, class-clown type guy. He’d made everyone laugh, while Brett was the more serious one of the trio.
Madi was the girl next door: a smart, beautiful, classy, southern woman who was—and always had been—the epitome of perfect in Brett’s eyes. He and Madi had been very close since childhood when Brett’s father, Drew McFadden, was hired on as GM of the Atlanta Gladiators football team by Madi’s father, Jerry Taylor, owner and president of the Gladiators— the team that Brett currently and Hunter, formerly, played for. Brett and Madi had been raised together, gone to every single school together, then met Hunter in college—quickly forming an everlasting bond with him. Hunter had immediately taken to Madi; they’d dated and were married not long after graduation. That day had been the worst day of Brett’s life…well, at least, up until today.
Reverend Young had taken turns hugging everyone around the small group of gatherers at the graveside before suddenly and awkwardly hugging Brett. The old man’s attempt was short-lived as his small frame couldn’t embrace Brett’s larger build. Instead, he pulled back, looped one arm around Brett’s side, and patted his back.
“I’m so sorry
