About The Book:
Title: Sliding Into Home
Series: A New League # 1
Author: Anne Lange
Release Date: October 17, 2014
Purchase: TotallyBound | Amazon | Kobo | ARe
Can an injured ex ball player convince the woman he wakes up married to in Las Vegas to take a second chance on him?After spending the last four months drowning his sorrows over the end of his baseball career, Jack Bishop finds himself winging through the blue skies to Las Vegas, not so ready to spend the weekend with some woman his best friend set him up with. He expects a paid escort. What he gets is the woman he walked away from ten years ago to pursue his passion, and she’s not very happy to see him.
Devyn Tate believes she’s quite capable of finding somebody to take her out to dinner. She’s no longer looking for a lifelong promise. She has a commitment only to her battery-operated toy to fulfill that particular need. Yet her friends have managed to talk her into spending the weekend in Las Vegas, on a blind date of all things. They promise the guy is trustworthy. They insist that she should have fun. Unfortunately, fun is not what she envisions when she discovers Jack Bishop lying on the floor of her suite in nothing but his underwear that’s on backward, and she has a wedding ring on her finger.
Excerpt:
What the hell am I thinking?
She wasn’t a one-night or even a two-night stand kind of girl. She didn’t do fantasy sex. Hell, she didn’t really do sex, period. It was okay. It wasn’t great. Isn’t that why Roger had fallen into the arms of another warm body? Well, that and the fact that her aspirations didn’t match up with his.
She needed to get out of there. She’d pay her friends back for the room—somehow. Devyn took a step toward the door that appeared to be a mile away.
The water stopped, freezing her mid-stride. Panic swelled. She spun in all directions. Oh, God. Typically, she considered herself a strong woman, but at the moment, she felt so out of her element, and a strong sense of foreboding rolled over her. She needed a place to hide. Dive behind the sofa or behind the heavy curtains?
A door opened and steam rolled into the hallway. The slap of wet feet against ceramic tile pulled her gaze back to the hallway but didn’t encourage her feet to move. Then the soft thud of footfalls on carpet and a deep hum preceded the man about to make his entrance.
Devyn began backing up, hands out at her sides to avoid tripping over furniture. The closer the humming got, the quicker she stepped, until she smacked into the patio door, and sucked in a breath, just as he entered the main room.
She couldn’t stop the immediate flood of arousal that shot through her when she caught sight of the gorgeous hulking male specimen strolling into the room, head down, large hands adjusting a fluffy white towel slung low on his hips, his damp hair curling around the edges of his ears.
She licked her lips. Instinct. Gut feeling. Whatever it was—she knew. She couldn’t look. Yet she couldn’t close her eyes. She noticed every little detail starting at his sexy feet. The dark hair covering his legs. Could knees be sexy? Every hard line, every muscle of his tight abdomen, as her gaze swept up, up and up, until she reached his face.
That face. She must have moaned, must have made some small noise announcing her presence. His head jerked up and his eyes rounded in surprise, his skin flushed from the shower, or from finding her in his room?
Oh God, this has to be dream. Or maybe it was her fantasy after all.
“Devyn?”
“Jack.”
She wasn’t a one-night or even a two-night stand kind of girl. She didn’t do fantasy sex. Hell, she didn’t really do sex, period. It was okay. It wasn’t great. Isn’t that why Roger had fallen into the arms of another warm body? Well, that and the fact that her aspirations didn’t match up with his.
She needed to get out of there. She’d pay her friends back for the room—somehow. Devyn took a step toward the door that appeared to be a mile away.
The water stopped, freezing her mid-stride. Panic swelled. She spun in all directions. Oh, God. Typically, she considered herself a strong woman, but at the moment, she felt so out of her element, and a strong sense of foreboding rolled over her. She needed a place to hide. Dive behind the sofa or behind the heavy curtains?
A door opened and steam rolled into the hallway. The slap of wet feet against ceramic tile pulled her gaze back to the hallway but didn’t encourage her feet to move. Then the soft thud of footfalls on carpet and a deep hum preceded the man about to make his entrance.
Devyn began backing up, hands out at her sides to avoid tripping over furniture. The closer the humming got, the quicker she stepped, until she smacked into the patio door, and sucked in a breath, just as he entered the main room.
She couldn’t stop the immediate flood of arousal that shot through her when she caught sight of the gorgeous hulking male specimen strolling into the room, head down, large hands adjusting a fluffy white towel slung low on his hips, his damp hair curling around the edges of his ears.
She licked her lips. Instinct. Gut feeling. Whatever it was—she knew. She couldn’t look. Yet she couldn’t close her eyes. She noticed every little detail starting at his sexy feet. The dark hair covering his legs. Could knees be sexy? Every hard line, every muscle of his tight abdomen, as her gaze swept up, up and up, until she reached his face.
That face. She must have moaned, must have made some small noise announcing her presence. His head jerked up and his eyes rounded in surprise, his skin flushed from the shower, or from finding her in his room?
Oh God, this has to be dream. Or maybe it was her fantasy after all.
“Devyn?”
“Jack.”
About The Author:
Shoes are her addiction, but books are her passion. Anne Lange grew up with a love for reading. If you take a close look, she’s got either a book, her Kindle or her Kobo—maybe all three—tucked into her bag or a pocket when she leaves the house. You know, just in case there’s time to sneak in a chapter or ten. Anne reads many genres of romance, but prefers to write sexy stories, often with a dash of humor, and usually with a side of those sinful pleasures your mom never told you about.
Oh, and always a happily ever after.
While embarking on this wild journey of becoming a romance author, Anne juggles a full time job and a family. Not always successfully. Who needs a clean house every day? And what’s wrong with cereal for dinner? She lives in Ontario, Canada with her wonderfully supportive husband, three awesome kids who are growing up way too fast, and Rocky the bearded dragon.
Giveaway:
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