Genre: Adult Fiction (Contemporary Romance)
Date Published: April 2014
Publisher: Turquoise Morning Press
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 attempts to differentiate himself from his old man more often 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 bonehead 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, at her sister’s urging. She soon discovers she likes the work—and her new boss. As she and Greg forge a friendship and more, she knows it’s time to convince him she’s not who he thinks. But when his father's hospitalization compels Greg to fast-track his leap to the majors by capitalizing on Big Jake’s fame, it might be too late for her to come clean.
Sliding into Home is the third book in the Love & Baseball series by Arlene Hittle. The bantering in the beginning was funny, since Greg thought Jenn was a stripper. The mistaken identity all kind of happened by accident, and I can see the appeal of keeping up the charade and pretending to be someone your not, but I think she should have told him the truth sooner. I would probably always wonder if it wasn't the sister he was really attracted to, since that's who he saw and made the offer to first. In the long run, it would mess with my head as much as his. This is the first book in the series that I have read, and it stands alone just fine. It was a pretty cute romance, and it made me want to read the previous two books in the series.
Sliding into Home by Arlene Hittle was kindly provided to me by Wanderlust Book Tours for review. The opinions are my own.
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.
To learn more about Arlene Hittle and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook, and Twitter.
“Gruyère, Camembert, brie or cheddar?”
Leave it to the rich man to keep his fridge stocked with expensive French cheeses.
Sometimes she wondered if he had more money than sense. Or maybe he just really liked cheese. “Is it Wisconsin cheddar?”
He thumped a brick of white cheddar cheese onto the counter. “All-American girl, are you?”
“Mm-hmm.” She eyed the solid lump of cheese. “I assume you have a cheese grater.”
He hummed Tom Petty’s “American Girl” as he fitted his fancy food processor with a shredding attachment, cut a couple chunks off the brick of cheese and threw them down the chute. Seconds later, he presented her with a bowlful of shreds. Perfect. Just like Greg.
Leave it to the rich man to keep his fridge stocked with expensive French cheeses.
Sometimes she wondered if he had more money than sense. Or maybe he just really liked cheese. “Is it Wisconsin cheddar?”
He thumped a brick of white cheddar cheese onto the counter. “All-American girl, are you?”
“Mm-hmm.” She eyed the solid lump of cheese. “I assume you have a cheese grater.”
He hummed Tom Petty’s “American Girl” as he fitted his fancy food processor with a shredding attachment, cut a couple chunks off the brick of cheese and threw them down the chute. Seconds later, he presented her with a bowlful of shreds. Perfect. Just like Greg.
To learn more about Arlene Hittle and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook, and Twitter.
Thanks for having me! Sorry you didn't get my guest post/interview questions. Not sure what happened to them — must have gotten gobbled up by cyberspace.
ReplyDelete