©Novel Buddy
PREVIEW
... low over Valley Parade, thick and unmoving, soaking the air in cold that crawled into your collar. Jake Wilson stood alone in the mouth of the tunnel, hands deep in his coat pockets, head tilted just enough to catch the pulse of the stadium as it rumbled awake.
Tired legs. Heavy heads. Midweek still clung to them like wet clothes.
He didn't need to say it again. It was printed across every heartbeat in that dressing room.
Win ugly if we must. But win.
The rotation ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE