He was attractive, talented...and way off-limits.
Heather Gadway may have been a world-class college pitcher and a top university coach, but sheâs a rank amateur when it comes to managing the Falcons, her fatherâs struggling minor-league team. And when it comes to managing her aggravating attraction to Garrett Wolf, their talented new pitcher. Itâs going to be difficult enough to make it as the first female manager in the league and prove to her overly critical father sheâs worthy. No distractions. No missteps. And certainly no romances with players. Everything stands between themâincluding their troubled pastsâeven as Heatherâs world falls apart and Garrettâs the one whoâs there to catch her...
âWhat do you have in mind?â
Heather stepped closer, and Garrett breathed in her subtle citrus scent.
âA contest. If I get more strikes out of twenty pitches than you do, you stay. If you have more, then Iâll release you.â
He stared at her. Processing. She couldnât be serious. Sure, he had control issues, but he was still better than a college-level player. She was making this easy. But if she was foolish enough to offer him this out, heâd take it.
They eyed each other for a long, tense moment before he jerked his chin at her.
âYouâre on.â
Dear Reader,
Growing up, I sported scraped knees instead of bows, spent my days prowling through the woods playing âwarâ rather than dressing up dolls, and learned to shoot BB guns before mastering the art of mascara application. Never a âgirlie girl,â I still fell head over heels for Mills & Boon romance books in my preteen years and am thrilled to write for this wonderful company. Iâve never questioned those different sides of me, and accept that Iâll always be as excited to watch a ball game as I am to watch The Bachelor.
A League of Her Own is dear to me because Heather embraces her competitive, sports-loving side, as more and more women are doing today. When I watch or attend games, I hear women cheering as loudly as the men. I enjoyed writing a romance for female sports enthusiasts, like me, who have sentimental heartsâeven if we yell for blood when our team loses a run/basket/touchdown/goal. Iâm excited to showcase strong female characters like Heather, and give readers a different kind of romantic heroine that they can relate to and root for in the story.
I would love to hear from you about your favorite sports experiences and teams as well as your thoughts about the novel. To contact me, email [email protected].
Thanks!
Karen
KAREN ROCK
is an award-winning YA and adult contemporary author. She holds a masterâs degree in English and worked as an ELA instructor before becoming a full-time author. Her Mills & Boon Heartwarming novel Wish Me Tomorrow has won the 2014 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and the 2014 Golden Quill Award. When sheâs not writing, Karen loves scouring estate sales, cooking and hiking. She lives in the Adirondack Mountain region with her husband, daughter and Cavalier King cocker spaniels.
www.KarenRock.com
This novel is for all âsports momsâ and especially my wonderful mother-in-law, Bernice Rock, the greatest, most dedicated of them all. Your seven sons and daughter are blessed to have had your unfailing support as you cheered them on at games and worked hard behind the scenes to keep their hectic lives running smoothly. Most important of all, you gave them your unconditional love. They couldnât have had their amazing childhoods without you.
CHAPTER ONE
IF HEATHER GADWAYâS cell phone hadnât already been dead, she would have killed it.
She peered at the blank screen, then squinted at the sun overhead, picturing her frowning father getting sent straight to her voice mail...again. Ever since sheâd moved to California, heâd insisted they speak every morning. Heâd probably left his version of a warm-and-fuzzy message, one she imagined sounded like this:
âHeather. For Peteâs sake. Charge your phone. Next time put the cord next to your makeup. Then youâll actually remember the darn thing needs juice.â
After a silence punctuated with grumpy noises, heâd end with, âCall me back so I know youâre alive.â
She grabbed another softball from a nearby bucket and tossed it to her rookie Morro Bay University pitcher. If she asked to borrow her playerâs phone, she could probably shoot off a text to her father, but a part of her rebelled at the thought. She hadnât remembered to charge the phone again, but it wasnât the end of the world. In fact, it was possible that sheâd been ducking her cell lately, and half-forgetting to charge the battery, because she wanted a little breathing room from her dadâs too-frequent check-ins. She was twenty-seven, not seven. Sheâd earned the right to go twenty-four hours without a call.