The publishing of my series, Bottom of the Ninth, baseball romance, continues with the new release of book 2, MATT JACKSON, CATCHER.
A bit about the book:
Matt Jackson, clutch hitter,
fielder extraordinaire, and team captain, is dynamite on the baseball field,
but a loser with women. Or is he? He makes a show of coming on to chicks in
bars, but always strikes out. Convinced being dateless is safer, Matt keeps his
distance from women. Is he simply an insensitive chauvinist, or a crafty man
hiding a secret?
Everything he believes in is
challenged the day he walks in on a beautiful woman in the locker room. Dusty,
the sharp-tongued spitfire, cuts the all-star pro down to size. Unwilling to
accept second-class status, she challenges everything he knows about women.
Does a solo life make living with
emotional pain easier? Drawn to the stunning, talented woman, Matt has a long
way to go to win her trust. Getting close to Dusty is dangerous. Can he risk
his well-protected heart? Matt faces a difficult choice -- will he make the
right decision?
How about a little taste from the book?
February, Sandy
Key, Florida
Depressed after
losing the World Series, Matt needed sunshine, which was in short supply in
February in New York. In the weeks before spring training started, he’d agreed
to head up a two-week camp for underprivileged kids. Matt wouldn’t be doing it
alone, some joker, named Dusty Carmichael, from professional softball would
partner with him.
The catcher
sniffed. This asshole, Carmichael, was a pitcher. How good could he be playing
men’s softball? The guy’s probably a
fucking amateur and doesn’t know shit about baseball. It annoyed him to
think he’d be running the show with little help from someone who didn’t know
crap and was getting paid a bundle. He shook his head. Why did he always get
stuck with the losers?
The more he
thought about it, the more annoyed he got. He shouldered his equipment bag and
headed for the locker room. He stopped at the stadium entrance and flashed his
credentials to the security guard.
“That guy
Carmichael here yet?”
“Yeah, but—”
Matt waved him
away and continued on. At least the sun was shining. It was seventy-three
degrees—perfect weather for baseball. Sure beat the twenty degree, cloudy day
he’d left in New York the morning before. Arriving an hour ahead of time, he
whistled as he strolled along. Matt had a thing about being late and showed up
early to most everything.
He waved at the
janitor as he pushed open the locker room door.
“You can’t…”
But Matt didn’t
hear the rest. He looked up to see beautiful, long auburn locks hanging down
from the head of a woman, who was dressed only in panties. She was bending
over, brushing her hair, so he couldn’t see her face, and she couldn’t see him.
At the click of the door closing, she snapped up straight, whipping her tresses
back, so that they fell down her back and revealed the most gorgeous breasts
he’d ever seen.
Her eyes widened.
“Get out! Get out!”
Matt froze, his
gaze locked on her chest before he realized what he was doing. He covered his
eyes with his hand and backed toward the exit. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m
sorry. I didn’t know there was a woman in here.”
“Big fat lie,
asshole. Get out!”
He peeked through
his fingers, but the previous view was covered by her bare arms. He still
managed to take in a middle with some ab definition and long, slender legs. Her
white panties were almost see-through. Almost.
“Get out!”
With one hand, she
rifled a gym bag at him, scoring a direct hit. Reaching behind his back, he
found the door handle and was in the hall in a flash. Heat ran up his chest, to
his neck and his face. The woman was stunning. He didn’t know if his flush was
from sexual excitement or embarrassment. Maybe both.
*********************
Find it here in ebook and paperback here:
#noraroberts
#eloisajames
Hopefully this will take you away from a frigid Saturday into the bright sunshine...
