Sliding Into Home
By:
Arlene Hittle
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Humor
Publisher: Turquoise Morning
Press
Publication Date: April 2014
SYNOPSIS:
More
than anything, Arizona Condors first baseman Greg Bartlesby wants to make his
own name in the big leagues. Too bad being the son of MLB legend Jake “Big Man”
Bartlesby makes that impossible. Even worse? His failed attempts to
differentiate himself from his old man frequently land him in legal trouble.
His latest brush with the law brings him in contact with an attorney he’s met
before — as a dancer at the club where he was arrested for protecting her.
Jenn
Simpson isn’t a stripper—not that she can convince her idiot client her twin is
the one doing the dancing. When Greg offers her sister a job at his father’s
Foundation, Jenn is the one who accepts. She soon discovers she likes the
work—and her boss—more than she should. The closer they get, the more important
it becomes for her to convince Greg she’s not who he thinks. And when his father
is hospitalized, compelling Greg to fast-track his leap to the majors by
capitalizing on Big Jake’s fame, it might be too late to come clean.
Review
If you’re looking for
a great book that will have you laughing out loud then look no further. Arlene Hittle has released Sliding Into Home, and
this book is a perfect summertime read. You should defiantly one-click this book
ASAP. Arlene Hittle once again brings us an awesome cast of characters
including, Greg Bartlesby, baseball’s bad boy who is trying to step out of
his dad’s shadow. There is also Jenn Simpson, an up and coming lawyer who Greg
happens to think is a stripper, thanks in part to Jenn’s twin sister. When Jenn
takes the job offer that Greg thinks he gives to Jenn’s sister, these two are
in for a whirl wind adventure. Sliding Into Home had me cracking up with all the angst and quick wit these two lashed
out at one another. There really are too many great things about this book and
you will be quick to buy more of Arlene Hittle’s work once you read Sliding Into Home. I adored
this book and give it a Loved it rating.
BOOK LINKS:
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sliding-into-home-arlene-hittle/1119259333?ean=2940149346097
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EXCERPT:
Jenn
waited for the judge to exit the courtroom and then did the same. She barely
noticed Greg was a step behind her.
When
she realized he followed her, halfway down the corridor, she stopped and
turned. He was watching her closely, his face nearly as severe as the judge’s
had been. She didn’t like the scrutiny. She didn’t much like him, either, for
that matter. He talked too much. “What?”
“You’re
a much better stripper than you are a lawyer.”
“I’m
not—never mind.” This spoiled man-child’s opinion of her was of no consequence
whatsoever. “Things would have gone much more smoothly if you knew when to shut
your big mouth.”
“Or
if you were as familiar with law as you are with the pole.”
Letting
him think she danced was one thing. Listening to him insult her sister’s
current livelihood was another. “You think you’re so much better? Have you
forgotten you play with balls for a living?”
With
that, she walked away. Folks with more money than sense always rubbed her
wrong, this one more than most.
He
swore, and soon his footsteps sounded behind her. He put a hand on her
shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jade. My comment was uncalled for.”
She
stopped and shrugged him off. She wasn’t about to apologize, even if her
comment, too, was out of line. He started it. “You have a right to be testy. I
certainly didn’t hold up my end of the bargain.”
“To
get me off?” One corner of his mouth lifted. “You sure didn’t.”
Ooh,
that half-smile was appealing. Too appealing. She stepped back, away from
temptation. “Judge Troxler is tough.”
“Believe
me, I noticed.”
Jenn
paused. She remembered the look on his face when the judge had mentioned he
should volunteer with his father’s foundation. “If you don’t mind my asking,
what does your father’s foundation do?”
“A
little bit of everything.” He shrugged. “But the main focus is helping
underprivileged kids.”
And
that had him out of sorts? Growing up with four siblings and an out-of-work
father, she’d been
an underprivileged kid. They’d practically lived on sandwiches made from cheap
white bread and pale yellow government cheese. “You have a problem with helping
those less fortunate than yourself?”
“Of
course not.” His look was undecipherable. “I just don’t do well with kids.
Can’t relate.” “I’d think kids would love the chance to meet a famous
ballplayer.”
“I’m
not famous. My father is.”
And
that galled him. It was evident in his clenched jaw and drawn-up shoulders.
Against her
better
judgment, she found herself wanting to boost his ego. Since she’d had a few
minutes to read up on Greg Bartlesby, first baseman, before court, she knew
exactly how to go about it. “If you’re as good as the sportswriters say, you
won’t be in the minors for long.”
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“Four
years and counting,” he grumbled. “And when they get wind of this, it’ll
probably be another four.”
“They
who? The press?”
“MLB
officials. Dad says no one’ll call me up to the majors until they have proof
I’m mature enough to handle it.” He scowled. “Right now, my ‘wild’ behavior
makes me too much of a risk.”
Far
be it from her to point out that brawling—even in defense of a woman—wasn’t all
that mature. Still, newscasts were full of pro athletes arrested for offenses
far worse. “Why don’t you use your community service sentence to show who you
really are to whoever you need to show?”
He
looked thoughtful. “That idea’s not half bad.”
“That’s
what I thought.”
Before
she realized what he was going to do, Greg swooped in to capture her in a bear
hug.
He
was all muscle, a solid wall of yum, and her body molded itself to him
effortlessly. She tipped her head up to look into his eyes, the color of the
summer sky right before a thunderstorm. Blue so clear and deep she could lose
herself.
She
was so caught up in the moment that the passerby registered as no more than a
shadowy shape—until he stopped, turned and stared. Her boss. Mr. Stull didn’t
say anything, but his disapproving frown spoke volumes.
Caught
in a clinch with a client? Oh God. How embarrassing. Even if the contact had
started out purely innocent, her response made it inappropriate.
She
squirmed out of Greg’s arms and took a few steps back. “Mr. Stull! What a
surprise!”
“No
doubt.” He pursed his lips. “Shall I assume you were merely celebrating the
case’s positive outcome?”
Jenn
grimaced. “Not exactly.”
Mr.
Stull tugged on his tie. “What do you mean, ‘Not exactly’?”
“We
ran into a snag. Judge Troxler heard the case.”
Greg
stepped forward. “That woman is not a randy old goat.” He shook his head,
bemused. “Immune to my charm, too.”
Her
boss’ face lightened two shades. “Dare I ask what happened?”
“Nothing
good.” Jenn hung her head, ashamed. In less than thirty minutes, she’d let down
the defendant, the client and her boss. Not a stellar way to start the
week.
“It
was my fault, not hers.” Greg’s hand settled on her back. “I let my temper get
the best of me and mouthed off to the judge.”
Doing
her best to ignore the way his fingers burned through her cotton shirt, she met
her boss’ eyes again. “I failed to adapt. I’m to blame.”
“I’m
sure there’s plenty of blame to go around.” Mr. Stull’s expression was sour.
“Jake Bartlesby will not be pleased.”
Greg’s
palm flattened against her back. “Leave my father to me.”
AUTHOR INFO:
Arlene
Hittle is a Midwestern transplant who now makes her home in northern Arizona.
She suffers from the well-documented Hittle family curse of being a Cubs fan
but will root for the Diamondbacks until they run up against the Cubs. Longtime
friends are amazed she writes books with sports in them, since she’s about as
coordinated as a newborn giraffe and used to say marching band required more
exertion than golf. Find her at arlenehittle.com, on Twitter or on Facebook.
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