Read An Excerpt From 'Pickle Perfect' by Ilana Long

A second chance at love crashes one woman’s tropical pickleball vacation and serves up an adorkably swoony romantic comedy.

Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Pickle Perfect by Ilana Long, which is out now.

Lulu Gardner only takes predictable shots. After faulting on tennis stardom at eighteen, Lulu, now a thirtysomething single parent, is in control of her game. But when an unanticipated blunder threatens her teaching job, Lulu’s stable, well-planned—okay, boring—world spins out. And somehow, her godparents convince her to join them for a “de-stressing” destination pickleball vacation in Costa Rica. Maybe an all-inclusive picklecation is just the pick-me-up she needs to loosen her grip.

Or it would have been if she wasn’t backhanded by the sight of her high school fling Tyler Demming on the beachside courts. Fresh off the pickleball pro tour, the reigning bad boy of paddle sports is as studly and snarky as ever. Even though his public image took a hit with a ballsy publicity stunt, Tyler seems to be the big shot he’s always been.

But Lulu’s had years to steel herself against his rugged good looks and hypnotic charm. Despite the changes she sees in Tyler since their teenage days, Lulu will have no problem keeping her head in the game and her heart on the sidelines. Or so she tells herself….

There was Tyler Demming in all his long-haired, tatted-up glory. Just as handsome, maybe even more so than when she’d last seen him in the flesh fifteen years ago. Just as dreamy as the night when they’d lain on the cool pavement of the moonlit court and he had promised to never break her heart—and then instead went and crushed it to smithereens.

Sure, she had caught glimpses of him in the media over the years. During the hype about his switch from tennis to pickleball and his subsequent rise to glory on the small court, it seemed Tyler Dem- ming was everywhere. Lulu would be going about her day when his famous physique would pop up online, advertising men’s cologne and boxer briefs and teeth whitener. Or gracing the cover of the sports section of the Seattle Times when he took gold at pickleball nationals. Or in those static images in tabloids at the supermarket checkout line, where she learned that the player had finally settled down and married the foxy sports commentator Sapphire Roe.

At that last thought, the residue of a thing she refused to call jealousy flitted through her brain. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

Now, as Tyler “The Rocket” Demming smirked at the camera in living, moving color, her nerves began to whistle. Fifteen years had almost been long enough for her to get over her mixed feelings for him, a push-pull that felt like it was breaking her apart. But the sensory reverberations still clung to her.

Tyler’s muscles glistened with a sexy sheen of recent exercise, and he beamed with his annoyingly charismatic grin. “Winner, winner!” Tyler crowed as he pulled several paddles from his bag. Laying the paddles on the pavement, he took his time swaddling the handles in cotton bandages. The video caption scrolled. Wild- man Tyler “The Rocket” Demming Takes Gold but Gets Tossed Off Tour. “Unbelievable.” Lulu shook her head in disgust. Of course he would go ahead and throw away a golden opportunity. Talk about on-brand.

“Just watch,” Rooster crowed, still absorbed in the video. “It’s a doozy.”

“Rooster. Turn that racket off,” Laverne urged, but by now, both Lulu and Rooster were hypnotized by the action.

Lulu glared at the screen in disbelief as Tyler, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, held the paddle heads and took a lighter to the wrapped handles. Whooping with glee, the pro player began juggling the flaming pickle paddles. Mid-toss, he called out, “This is for you. You know who you are!” He beamed and shouted, “And now, the spin maneuver!”

Lulu scolded the part of her brain that wanted to stare, not at the spectacle, but at his sculpted limbs and fluid athleticism. Because she was over him. Enough of her precious months had been wasted pining over that lost love. Tyler Demming was nothing more than a pinching reminder of a difficult time.

But just look at him. Look at him! If ever she needed a reminder of Tyler Demming’s flaws, it was right there in front of her. In that full-of-himself, overconfident, bullshit artist with the tattoos drawing her attention to his glistening, muscled biceps. Dammit!

His skin had been untouched when they were together. Now tattoos moved with each flex of his perfectly conditioned muscles. Yep. He was still hotter than a baked potato thrown in a hot-oil fryer and then nuked in the microwave.

Lulu swallowed hard. “Idiot,” she mumbled.

“Idiot,” Zoe parroted from somewhere near the refrigerator and then added, “Look! I pottied all by myself.”

“Code yellow. Code yellow,” Rooster called.

But Lulu could not take her eyes off the miniature screen. Paddles a-flyin’, Tyler executed a 360. Mid-twirl, he glanced up at the windmilling flames, shrieked, and jumped backward without catching a single one. Noisily, the paddles scattered across the pavement, where they sparked and smoldered—all except one, which flew onto the straw-colored grass of the empty spectator area. The spark caught, and in seconds the flame rolled across the dry grass. Another caption rolled. Demming Charged with Reckless Endangerment and Destruction of Property. Whoever was holding the camera yelped, and when the video righted itself, Tyler was aiming the lens at himself. “I promised that if I won gold, I’d juggle fire. And I keep my promises.”

Rooster chuckled, and the reel started again. Lulu felt her hands curl into fists. Tyler Demming. Lighting the paddles. Juggling them. Setting the field on fire. Again with his swagger, his smugness, those damned taut buttocks.

Review: Strike The Zither by Joan He

Her head swam with the fury and disappointment that she had managed to keep at bay for fifteen years. But now, here was Tyler Demming butting into her life again when she was simply minding her own business. Lulu watched, her attention trapped in the looping video, finding the whole spectacle seriously triggering. Because there was no deeper betrayal, Lulu thought, than to draw in your rival, seduce her, then disappear in her moment of need without looking back.

Beneath the video, she caught a glimpse of the final caption. The Rocket Keeps His Promises.

Lulu’s eyes narrowed to slits and her back teeth clamped together. Forget about him, she told herself. Take ten calming breaths. One. Two . . . okay. Screw that. She may be over him now, but Tyler Demming had been the crush and the curse of a lifetime. And right now, the curse had returned with a vengeance.

Her voice erupted like years of contained lava. “Keeps his promises! Ha!”

Wrath lifted her to her feet, but a rush of dizziness threw off her footing. Still, her tirade continued, even as she threw out her hands to steady herself. Even as she fell toward the keyboard that would seal her fate.

Even as the heel of her palm landed on the record button.

Her voice had reached a venomous peak. “Are you fucking kid- ding me?!” Lulu fumed. “That is the biggest load of bullshit I have read in my life.”

Ping, went her laptop. On her screen 153 check marks rippled down the line.

Message sent to all students.