players break your heart. They are designed to break your heart. Especially
baseball players like Jacob Baird. Just drafted, just signed, just started in
the minor leagues. And he works like a horse out on the ball field, although
the rumor mill says that’s not the only reason they call him Horse.
date ballplayers because 1, they break your heart, 2, my dad’s the club owner
and that would be awkward, and 3,
good luck trying to explain my falcon to a potential boyfriend, ballplayer or
But why is
my falcon so jealous over this guy?
Jacob: OK, so I
fell for the Falcons welcome-aboard prank: let the new guy hit on the hot
brunette before he finds out she’s the boss’s daughter. Off-limits? Fine, I’ve
got no problem playing the field.
But why is
my stallion set on playing Katie instead of the field?
yourself as a shifter alone in a world that doesn’t know shifting exists.
This is the
Solo Shift world: no packs, no guidance, no mates, and no prospects until
chance, luck, trust, and love all intervene.
you expect from a Solo Shift book? A standalone story with lonely shifters,
shifters who don’t know they’re lonely, love scenes, and no cheating. And at
least one HEA, sometimes more!”
Lone Stallion is a Shifter Romance and the third book in the Solo Shift series by Nicole Lake. Available June 20th
with my hot dog and ate it while Baird met the fans. From where I was, it
looked like he was handling the attention well. Smiling, happy to be there,
shaking hands, signing autographs, seemed to be the approachable type. Fit in
real well with the fans. Folks in Welkerville like to see that in their players—and
Baird seemed to be delivering that. That was a good sign, and I knew Dad would
be happy to hear that. He also didn’t seem to be hitting on any of the women,
which was also a good sign.
fans have their time with him. Most of them needed to get home, and I didn’t;
besides, I was still working on my hot dog.
crowds cleared and my hot dog was gone, I came up to him, smile on my face, and
I shook his hand and welcomed him to Welkerville.
myself from jumping his bones on the spot.
surprised me too. It was like The Awkward Years all over again—hormones all
a-fire and everything.
had muscles. Sure, he had that glowing smile. Sure, he was big and brawny. But
so were the other guys, with the possible exception of the smile. Why were my
spidey-senses tingling—no, wait, those were my lady parts. Why were they
for me, I’ve gotten a lot better at faking normal behavior since The Awkward
fortunately for me, he answered by lifting a line straight out of Bull
Durham. At least, I think he did. The problem with that movie is that it
got minor-league life so right that you’re never sure if you’re seeing
an intentional Bull Durham reference or just Life As Usual in The
answered back with another stock cliche while I tried to keep my tongue in my
cheek, or at least in my mouth. While trying to remind myself what an Executive
Assistant to the Owner was supposed to do—oh, yeah, that’s right, introduce
I could do that, he beamed at me again—oh my God, that smile—and asked, “Are
the stands always this full?”
good. He was talking baseball and the fans. I could talk about that all day
without making a fool of myself.
followed up with, “Where does everyone go after the game, anyway?”
said this was a set-up to a pick-up line. Other parts of me—the tingling
parts—were ecstatic. Fortunately, my Executive Assistant to the Owner side
recognized this was a good time to educate Baird in Welkerville ways. “Home, mostly. Some of ‘em drive an hour or
two to get here, plus most of our fans have cows to milk or feed, or jobs to go
to in the morning. A few of ‘em hit the bars. A lot of folks hit the Taystee
Creem downtown; they’re open late.”
myself on the back. Very educational response, very responsible, very much not
an open invitation to check out that place behind the stands that’s been a
make-out spot for generations of young Welker County residents, get that image
out of your head, Katherine Joy Casey.
Incurable romantic. What do I want in my romance stories? Men who aren’t total asses. Women who avoid total asses—either from experience, or by being smart enough to avoid them in the first place! Men who survive just fine without a woman. Women who survive just
fine without a man. Men and women smart enough to know the perils of jumping
into love, and brave enough to do it anyway. And of course, a