Cover Reveal for The Blueprint by SE Harmon



Hi all! Thank you to Open Skye Book Reviews for hosting my cover reveal and KaNaXa for the beautiful cover. I had a certain image in mind and bugged my wonderful cover artist until it came to fruition.

I really had a great time writing this story–best friends to lovers will always be one of my favorites. I hope you love Kelly and Blue as much as I do.

Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you enjoy the book!


Kelly Cannon is generally satisfied with his life—he has a great job that he loves, friends, and a wonderful family. But his love life has reached a new level of pitiful. Why? Well, his heart decided to break all the rules. Don’t fall in love with a straight guy. And definitely don’t fall in love with your best friend.

NFL standout Britton “Blue” Montgomery has pressure coming at him from all sides. From his father, who’s only interested in Blue’s football career. From his coaches, who just want him to play without getting injured again. The fans. His agent. His mother, who popped back up on the radar after leaving his family years ago. Now his relationship with Kelly is on shaky ground, and that frightens Blue more than anything.

When Kelly admits he’s in love with Blue, bonds are tested, and Blue has to decide what’s really important. He doesn’t want to lose the number one person in his life, but the cost to keep Kelly close might be more than he’s willing to pay.

It’s a good thing his nickname is the Blueprint—it’s time to draft a new set of plans.

Cover Artist: KaNaXa

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S.E. Harmon has had a lifelong love affair with writing. It’s been both wonderful and rocky (they’ve divorced several times), but they always manage to come back together. She’s a native Floridian with a Bachelor of Arts and a Masters in Fine Arts, and now splits her days between voraciously reading romance novels and squirreling away someplace to write them. Her current beta reader is a nosy American Eskimo who begrudgingly accepts payment in the form of dog biscuits.



I never misled Rob about who I was and what I wanted. Clearly I hadn’t been the only one feeling the distance grow between us. Instead of initiating a breakup, Rob apparently decided marriage would bring us back together.
His mouth tightened. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
I decided to spare us both and not ask, “Him who?” I guess Blue had been between us since the beginning. Worse yet, he didn’t even know it. To him I was just his best friend, the guy next door, the guy he grew up with. The guy he could trust not to perv on him.
“To think I was excited when I found out he was your best friend. The great Britton Montgomery.” Robert laughed humorlessly. “All of my friends were so fucking jealous that we get access to the skybox and seats on the fifty-yard line. But I’ll tell you what, you can keep all that free swag if this is what comes with it.”
I started to feel a little less guilty. Talking shit about Blue was a good way to get on my X-list. “Leave him out of this,” I growled.
“Finally. Some fucking emotion.” He gave me a mocking look. “Does he know that you want him? That you don’t just love him as a friend? That his nonthreatening gay best friend wants nothing more than to be fucked by the big football star?”
I stared at him, jaw working. He smiled at my pissed-off silence. “Does he know that you love him? That you want to be with him?”
I gritted my teeth. It was probably poor form to reject someone’s proposal and punch him in the face. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
“We could’ve had something real.” He shook his head. “And you want to throw it all away on someone who doesn’t even know you’re alive.”
“I think you’re overstating things a bit.”
“Oh, he loves it when you’re up in the stands. Loves to come and crash on your couch and eat your food and borrow your shit. He loves it when you look up to him like you worship the ground he walks on.”
“Like you’d suck his dick if he even gave you a scrap of—”
“Robert, stop.” I stared at him in a way that let him know I was dead-ass serious. “Before you say something I can’t forgive.”
He stopped, but it was clear he had a lot more to say. He rubbed his neck. Finally he said, “We could’ve had something, you know. We would’ve been happy.”
There was some truth to that. If I tried hard enough, I could almost see our life together. His perpetual bossiness would negate me ever having to make any hard decisions. We’d live in Robert’s overpriced townhouse downtown, with its beautiful views of the city. We’d have dogs—Scotties, probably. Rob loved Scotties.
We’d have perfectly good sex. Even though he’d never let me fuck him because that would be giving up too much of his precious control. And his weird “daddy” kink I sometimes indulged—if you were dicking me down good enough, I could manage to call you daddy every now and again, if that’s what turned your crank.
Between my job as a professor and his work as an architect, we’d make more than enough money. We’d have friends. Family. Vacation photos of us in brightly patterned swim trunks, drinking margaritas and toasting the camera in humid, exclusive places. We’d be good together. Happy together. Comfortable together.
And fuck love.
And there was the rub. Despite my bitterness about the subject, deep down inside, I think I was waiting on the fantasy, still hoping for the impossible. And I wasn’t willing to compromise. I sighed inwardly. I was as delusional and optimistic as any Disney princess. It was going to look fantastic on my eHarmony profile. I’d use Snow White as my fucking avatar. She found seven men. Surely I could scrounge up one.
There was nothing else to do but get out of the car. I closed the door behind me and stood there on the curb, hands jammed in my jeans pockets. They were so worn and holey that one of my fingers poked through the fabric.
“Robert.” I looked at his irritated face and felt a little helpless. “I need you to know that I am sorry.” At that point I wasn’t really even sure what I was apologizing for. For my inability to love him? For turning down his proposal? For loving someone else?
I might as well have saved my breath.
He pulled off with a godawful squeal and then stomped on the brakes. As the bright-red lights popped on and he reversed, my heart thumped harder.
Oh Christ. He’d decided that yelling wasn’t enough, and my picture was going to be on the news. Probably my employee-ID picture where I’d been hungover and midsneeze. The news always used the worst photo they could find.
He came to a stop in front of me, and his Lexus rocked a little. He held out his hand with a glare. I looked at him blankly for a second before I realized what he wanted.
“Oh. Sorry.” I worked the ring off my finger and grimaced a little as it stuck on my knuckle. I laid it in his palm, and he stuck it in his pocket.
“I hope you’re very happy being Montgomery’s one-man cheer squad for the rest of your life.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Keep barking up that tree,” he said with a scowl. He peeled off without another glance.

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