Thursday, April 3, 2025

πŸ€⏳Throwback Thursday's Time Machine⏳πŸ€: Basketball at Night by Eve Morton



Summary:

Coach Andrew Grady's life has become rather trivial, mostly centered on leading high school gym classes and completing paperwork. He's in his forties, and though he still runs every morning, time has not been kind to him. He's slowly given up the idea of finding love, ever since his ex-husband dumped him in the school parking lot years before.

Everything changes when Jamal Knight, basketball star extraordinaire, returns to his high school to give an inspirational talk to a new cohort of students. Coach Grady still remembers Jamal as the awkward kid who sometimes tripped over his own feet, who was too nervous to speak, and who struggled to live with his alcoholic mother. Now that he's reached the Big Leagues, he's surprised that Jamal wants to grace this run-down school's hallways. But Jamal does, and he's become a stunning young man of almost thirty since the last time the two met.

Coach Grady gets another surprise when Jamal tells him he's gay, and he'd like to take the opportunity tonight to come out. When Jamal sets his gaze on Grady after the whole evening is over, Grady has yet another decision to make: to be out in the public eye with Jamal, or bury himself in paperwork once again.

Original Review March 2024:
Yet another new-to-me author and what a wonderful way to be introduced.  Basketball at Night may be short in quantity but it's long on quality.  As it's so short I don't want to risk spoiling anything so I'll just say some things in life can come down to timing.  Is the timing right for the coach and his former student athlete?  You have to read to discover for yourself but I promise you'll enjoy finding out. There is just the right amount of past and present to make you feel and have an understanding of the characters, perhaps moreso the coach than the former student but still, you just get them and that is not an easy thing to accomplish in a short story.  Definitely glad I gave Basketball at Night a read.

RATING:



Jamal didn't argue. He gestured with his long arms once again at the basket. Though Grady knew he was nowhere near ready to even pretend to face off with Jamal Knight, MVP, he got into position. When he shot, he was surprised to watch as the basketball went into the hoop. Once again, had there been a net, it would have swished.

"Ah, well done. I've learned from the master."

"I don't think you have." Grady grabbed the ball once again before it rolled away. "Or if you have learned anything from me, I'd like to help you unlearn all my bad habits."

Jamal took the ball from Grady. He shot and missed. They continued to go back and forth, shooting and winning, shooting and missing, until Grady despised the silence.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Grady held the ball in front of him, no longer willing to play. "I thought you were going to come out?"

"I wanted to. I really did."

"But?"

"But my media deals. But the team. But the students." Jamal rolled his eyes. From the way in which he mimicked the last sentence, Mr. Damon had clearly said something.

"You told him?"

"I ... well, he heard me mention some things when I was practicing. And he gave me a good stern talking to."

"Ugh." Grady could hear the low tones of Mr. Damon, thinking he was being kind when he was really being patronizing, telling Jamal something about needing money for the school, far more than Jamal probably needed money. Or something else equally dumb. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I think he was right, though."

"No."

"Not about the sponsorships or even about discouraging other boys on the team, those who were straight, to feel inferior. No, that was just homophobic clap-trap." Jamal held his hands out for the ball, which Grady reluctantly gave him. "But he said something about keeping my private life private, and my public life public."

"Stay in the closet, in other words."

"Right. But I saw it differently for the first time. Probably because of you."

"And that's what I'm worried about. I shouldn't be --"

"Don't be sorry. You were right, in a way."

The woosh of the basketball sounded as it soared through the air. Grady said nothing in response, only thought of younger Jamal, playing out here like this, as he and Marty slunk to his car. They were not out, no. But they were not ashamed.

And that seemed to be what Jamal focused on. He wanted to be gay, but maybe he didn't have to announce it. "I keep making it seem like I'm different. That I'm special. But you told me a long time ago that no one on the team is special. It's why you never bothered with MVPs. It defied the logic of teamwork, or something like that."

Grady nodded slowly. He had said something like that, and he still said it now in his gym class when someone's head got too big. It was true, he still stood by that advice, but he was still plagued by all the unspoken parts of his past and present.

Jamal continued. "Well, I thought, what if I just pretend that I'm not? Not that I'm not gay, but that I'm just a regular guy, one who grew up wanting two things more than anything in life, and now he has them. Isn't that good? Can't I just accept that?"

"Are you happy?" Grady asked. "With both of them?"

"More or less." Jamal threw the ball again. It missed. Neither one of them went to pick it up. "I have the career. I know who I am. I should accept that being gay is normal instead of wanting it to make me different, you know? So that's what I'll do."

"And that will make you happy?"

Jamal caught Grady's gaze under the low lights. "I think so. But I miss the mark on other things, too."

"Same here."


Eve Morton

Eve Morton is a writer living in Ontario, Canada. She teaches university and college classes on media studies, academic writing, and genre literature, among other topics. She likes forensic science through the simplified lens of TV and philosophy through the cinematic lens of Richard Linklator.







Monday, March 31, 2025

πŸ€Monday Morning's MenuπŸ€: Fire Inside by Dawn Douglas



Summary:

After ten years as an active duty Marine, Captain Eric Ramos is rejoining civilian life. His first job is chauffeuring, assisting, and generally keeping track of NBA young gun Tyler Haley. Tyler’s had a rough few months, and his team owner is convinced he needs some hand-holding if he’s going to keep delivering wins for the St. Louis Fire Foxes.

Instead of the arrogant, over-privileged athlete Eric expected, Tyler is a big, blond, lonely twenty-three-year-old who needs more than just an employee to keep him in line. While taking care of Tyler, Eric changes from employee to friend, to something more. And when Eric realizes that something is burning the kid up from the inside out, he's determined to find a way to help him before Tyler’s carefully constructed faΓ§ade turns to ash.








Phase One—Prescreening
“ARE YOU a homosexual?”

I blinked once, my face going perfectly still. Even with Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell a thing of the past, that wasn’t a question I was accustomed to hearing. “Excuse me?”

“Did I stutter? Are. You. A. Homosexual.” She rolled her eyes at me. “A fairy. A fag. A pouf. A fegaleh. Get it? And before you get your panties in a twist and stomp out of here, let me make it clear to you that I really don’t care about the answer.”

Ten years of Marine Corps discipline kept my expression blank and my tone neutral. “Due respect, ma’am, but if you don’t care about the answer, then why ask the question?”

“Because last month Tyler Haley’s entire support network—for what it was worth—went to hell in a handbag.” She paused and held up one sharp, red nail. "His driver fucked his girlfriend in the back of the limo while he was playing an exhibition game for the US Special Olympics.”

A second nail went up. “His last trainer was too busy chasing parking lot blowjobs from the Gutter Groupies to notice a shoulder injury that could have been career-ending serious if we hadn’t caught it.”

She finished with a third finger and a disgusted flourish. “And his personal assistant charged fifty thousand dollars in shit for a mail-order bride from the Philippines on Haley’s American Express. Then, when the kid finally broke down and told his agent he was lonely and didn’t have anyone to spend Christmas with—mostly because I made him fire all those pieces of crap—the prick sent him to a prostitute. On Christmas.”

“My husband and I worked our asses off to get an NBA team back to St. Louis, and in the last four years, Haley has single-handedly made the league sit up and take us seriously. It’s January, and we have a legitimate shot at a championship, which would be nothing short of a fucking miracle for an expansion team less than ten years old.” She stopped for a second, looking like she was reigning in her temper, “but even though he has a contract making more money than God, our star player is just a big kid, and he’s hurting. If Haley’s going to keep performing, he needs someone looking out for him who cares more about doing his job than identifying his next pussy fix. Christensen assured me that wouldn’t be an issue with you, so I figure either one of those purple hearts on your resume came from a career-ending dick injury or you’re queer.”

She ended the tirade with a sharp finger snap—which with the talons was pretty impressive—and a raised eyebrow that looked a lot like a challenge.

Analyzing the explanation, I discarded what seemed irrelevant, and focused on what I considered germane to the conversation. “Why didn’t you and your husband let him spend Christmas with you?”

“We’re Jewish.”

I thought about that for a second and nodded. Fair enough. “I’m gay.”

“Excellent. You’re hired.”


Dawn Douglas

Dawn was a reporter for several years but now works in public relations. Besides spending time with her husband and daughter, writing is her favorite thing to do. Dawn Douglas and her husband moved from Illinois to Texas in 2004 and now make their home in Nashville, Tennessee. She realized she wasn’t in Kansas anymore when she went to a meeting of her local Democratic Party and she and the organizer were the only ones there! She’s decided that all the best characters are rebels, though, and has resigned herself to living in the red states.


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Sunday, March 30, 2025

⚾️🎭Week at a Glance🎭⚾️: 3/24/25 - 3/30/25

















⚾️Sunday's Sport Stats⚾️: The Backup Plan by Eden Finley




Summary:
King Sports #1
Thad
Failing to make it in pro ball left me absolutely devastated. Baseball has been my life, my dream, but it’s time to move on.

Becoming a sports agent was always my backup plan, and now that I’m interning at the biggest queer-focused firm in the country, I’m doing my best not to let my bitterness toward baseball affect my future.

That’s really difficult when I’m assigned to babysit Kelley Afton, hotshot rookie pitcher for Philly. He has everything I ever wanted, and he doesn’t even appreciate it. I didn’t become an agent so I could soothe the ego of diva athletes.

His constant need for validation from others frustrates me to no end, but that’s probably a good thing. Because if he didn’t have that, I’d find him irresistibly my type.

Attraction could lead to crossing lines which would put my position at King Sports in jeopardy, and I can’t have that.

I don’t have a backup for my backup plan.




Chapter 1
Thad
When your boss calls you and says, “Pack a bag and get to the office as soon as you can,” you hustle.

I have no idea where I’m going or what I’m doing, but it’s my first assignment that has included travel since I started my internship at King Sports.

Whenever I was asked as a kid what I wanted to be when I grew up, it was always the same answer: ballplayer. I was going to be the next big thing in baseball. A Hall of Famer. I had big dreams, worked hard for it, and I got really damn close.

I wish I could say it was an injury or something out of my control that ended that dream, but unfortunately, it took me way too long to realize that I just wasn’t good enough.

Ego, overinflated false sense of talent from my dad encouraging me and telling me I had what it takes, and all the money my parents sunk into private coaches who said the same thing set me up for failure.

This is why parents shouldn’t dote on their kids. How dare they, honestly. Because when it comes down to it, my fall from the mediocre middle felt like jumping out of an airplane at ten thousand feet with no parachute. Though my heart was the only victim as it splattered all over the pavement.

So, this is my backup plan.

My second choice.

Becoming a sports agent wasn’t where I thought I’d end up, but it’s the reality I’m having to face. I wish I could say I’ve handled it all with grace, but I know I haven’t.

I’m lucky to be where I am, and there are a lot of other people who would’ve killed for this internship, but I can’t help that my heart is still broken over the sport I’m absolutely obsessed with.

Baseball will always be my one true love, and I think that’s why I got this job in the first place. My boss, Damon King, was supposed to be the next big thing from the generation before me, but because of an injury, his dream also died at the collegiate level. Our stories were similar, and I know the manager in training on the West Coast also has a similar background. It’s as if Damon has a soft spot for us misplaced baseball players.

I’m eternally grateful for him giving me a chance, even if I don’t always show it. I’m trying to do better, but it’s really difficult not to be bitter.

At least this way, I still get to be in the industry. I’m baseball … adjacent. That’s what I keep trying to tell myself.

When I get into the office, I head straight for Damon’s office to see what my assignment is. Accompanying another agent on a scouting trip? Signing new talent?

I stop short in my tracks when I cross the threshold and see the last person in the world I’d want to see.

I’ve only met him in passing a handful of times, but I resent him. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s one of those things. He has a professional career, the talent, a multimillion-dollar MLB contract as a pitcher for Philly, and he takes it all for granted.

He’s too focused on whether or not the public loves him to appreciate what he has, which is everything I’ve ever wanted.

Kelley Afton doesn’t know how lucky he is. And to top it all off, he’s probably the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Because of course, the huge queer MLB star has to be drop-dead gorgeous. Couldn’t make the super-talented baseball player have a huge nose or big ears or something to make his face not so perfectly symmetrical with flawless skin.

His complexion and closely cropped dark hair suggests a Hispanic background somewhere in his heritage, or maybe he’s the type of person who can get a tan and keep hold of it. During the summer, I usually have nicely tanned skin, but only because I’m outside a lot. During winter, I’m as white as a piece of paper.

One thing I’ve noticed about his light brown eyes, though, is they always look worried. It’s probably the stress of caring what other people think of him that’s aged the top half of his face, and I should feel sorry for him, but I don’t because the crow’s feet make him look distinguished and sexy. He looks older than the twenty-six years that he is, but what would be a flaw on anyone else looks good on him.

How is life fair?

“Thad. You’re here already,” Damon says, looking surprised.

“You said to get down here as soon as I could.”

Kelley still hasn’t made eye contact with me.

“You’ve met Kelley Afton before, haven’t you?” Damon asks.

I grit my teeth as I force a smile. “In passing.”

Behind me, a fellow intern comes barreling into the room.

“I’m here, I’m here. What was so urgent?” Brady Talon spots Kelley on the couch along the side wall of Damon’s office. “Oh, hey, Kelley, what’s up?”

Kelley stands and greets Brady with a one-armed bro-hug.

“What took you so long to get here?” Damon mocks.

“You called half an hour ago.”

“And your world does not revolve around my every command? It’s official, you’re my least favorite nibling.”

“Pfft. Like you’d ever choose Freddie over me. He’s a walking, talking emo boy who hates everything, especially sports.”

“Fine. Second least favorite.”

Brady grins. “That’s better.”

I’ve noticed they have a work relationship full of banter, and Brady is definitely the boss’s favorite intern, but that makes sense with Damon being Brady’s honorary uncle. It’s how Brady already knows Kelley. He got to shadow Damon on a recent photoshoot for Kelley’s coming out.

I wouldn’t dare speak to my boss the way Brady does sometimes, but Damon is extremely professional when it comes to his employees; Brady is the exception to that.

Brady greets me with a cold up-nod, and I get the impression Brady hates me because of my bitterness toward … well, everything. I thought out of everyone, he would understand. His fathers are the great Marcus Talon and Shane Miller, first same-sex couple to play on an NFL team and go on to win Super Bowls together. Brady’s older brother, Peyton Miller, is currently kicking ass in his rookie years in the NFL, and then there’s Brady. Not a football player but an agent.

The thing with him is, though, he chose to give up football. He wants to be here, and it’s no company secret that when Damon King retires, Brady Talon will take his place.

If the man ever retires. I can see it now—he’s going to be one of those people who work until they’re in their eighties, finally retire, and then drop dead because their purpose in life is no longer there to throw themselves into.

“Kelley needs some help,” Damon says. “As you’re both aware, when Kelley came out, there was some backlash.”

“No more than usual.” What can I say, the industry hasn’t changed much over the years. Coming out is still scandalous, and there are still those homophobic dickweeds who say sports are for real men and blah, blah, blah.

“But considering Kelley was hesitating to come out to begin with, it’s hit him hard,” Damon says.

“I love how you talk about me like I’m not here.” Kelley’s wearing a charming smile, and I swear I see his teeth shine off the light and make a bling noise like a damn cartoon character. Or maybe the lighting in here is making the diamond stud in his ear blinding.

“By all means, if you want to fill them in.” Damon leans back in his chair.

Yet, when Kelley talks again, he still doesn’t look at me. His only focus is on Brady.

“You were right. When you told me things would be shit for a while after coming out, I was worried about it but prepared. Or, I thought I was prepared. I’ve been getting messages. Mostly supportive and amazing, but then there’s the ones that start off great and say they’re supportive of me and then follow it up with ‘even if you’re going to hell.’”

Here’s a novel idea. Don’t go on social media. What? That’s a thing?

“Then there are the ones that straight up say I should unalive myself.”

Okay, that’s not cool. At all. And even if I’m resentful of what Kelley has, no one deserves that.

“I’m trying to stay away from it all. I’ve deleted apps from my phone, I’ve put one of those child lock things on certain sites, but I can’t stay away from it. It’s as if a few hours go by, and my brain says, ‘Maybe they’re saying different things now.’ So then I look and get anxious and depressed all over again.”

“That’s where you two come in,” Damon says.

“Us?” I ask.

“At the photoshoot, Brady said I should become a hermit for a while. Go somewhere no one can find me, and that’s what I want to do,” Kelley says.

“I’m still missing the point.” Am I being daft here?

“Kelley’s going to take off to the Catskills for a while, and I want you two to go with him,” Damon says. “To make sure that he actually stays away from the toxicity of the internet and gets the rest that he needs.”

“How long for?” Brady asks, a whole lot more excited about it than I am.

“Two weeks at least. Then we’ll reassess.”

I thought I would be getting to do actual agent work when he called for me to come in immediately. Something that might advance my career.

Instead, I get to babysit a diva baseball player who doesn’t know how good he has it. If I didn’t hate him already, this would’ve sealed it.

Kelley Afton is the most ungrateful, oblivious son of a bitch on the planet, and if we even survive the next two weeks together, it’ll be a miracle.

Let’s hope I can keep my shit together because otherwise, I’ll need a backup plan for my backup plan.


Eden Finley
Eden Finley is an Amazon bestselling author who writes steamy contemporary romances that are full of snark and light-hearted fluff.

She doesn't take anything too seriously and lives to create an escape from real life for her readers. The ideas always begin with a wackadoodle premise, and she does her best to turn them into romances with heart.

She's also an Australian girl and apologises for her Australianisms that sometimes don't make sense to anyone else.


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EMAIL: edenfinley@gmail.com





Saturday, March 29, 2025

⚾️Saturday's Series Spotlight⚾️: Men of Summer by L Blakely



Scoring with Him #1
Summary:
An emotional, sexy, forbidden romance from #1 New York Times Bestselling author Lauren Blakely writing MM romance as L. Blakely!

I’m a rookie, in every sense of the word. But even though I have a wicked crush on the sexy shortstop on my baseball team, I won’t give in to my fantasies about him.

I’m here in the majors for the first time to play ball. Not to experience my first time with a man.

Trouble is, Declan Steele is sexy, flirty and now he’s my new workout partner. We’re spending mornings together in the gym, getting to know each other. Our connection is powerful – maybe because we each have our fair share of secrets and scars. Ones we'll both fight to protect.

I've got far too much trouble in my past to want to bring any into my present, no matter how much I long to sneak into his room at night and ask him a question.

But soon I can’t keep all this desire under wraps.

I take chances for a living, so I take the biggest chance one night at spring training when I send him the world’s sexiest selfie.

Right along with a question – would you be my first?

But falling for my teammate wasn't part of the plan.

Scoring with Him is book one in the utterly addictive Men of Summer series. This romance between two professional athletes spans five epic years and continues in Winning With Him.





Winning with Him #2
Summary:
An emotional, forbidden MM sports romance from #1 New York Times Bestselling author Lauren Blakely writing MM romance as L. Blakely!

Resisting the shortstop has never been my strong suit.

I failed at it during my first spring training. It sure as hell looks like I'm about to fail at it again.The sport I love playing with my very soul hangs in the balance. But everything my heart craves lies with the guy I've got to resist.

A guy who's asking me to make the toughest choice ever.

But how do I become the man I want to be...with him or without him?

Trouble is, I can't seem to get Declan out of my head, even if I stand to lose everything I've worked for my entire life...

Winning with Him is book two in the utterly addictive Men of Summer series, and should be read following Scoring With Him. This romance between two professional athletes spans five epic years.






All In with Him #3
Summary:
An emotional MM romance from #1 New York Times Bestselling author Lauren Blakely writing MM romance as L. Blakely...

Once upon a time all I needed was baseball, friends and extracurricular activities. Then everything changed when Declan Steele stormed into my life and upended all my priorities with his heart, his love, his passion.

So my next five-year plan will include this new ground rule—Love big.

Only, that’s easier said than done when my man and I come face to face with hard truths and new troubles about what it means to be all in.

That’s when I learn that finding love isn’t the hardest part.

Keeping it is.

All In with Him is the final novel in the Men of Summer series, and should be read following Winning With Him.




Scoring with Him #1
Prologue
Five Years Ago
At the Start of Rookie Year
Grant
If I were the kind of guy who made five-year plans, mine would include winning a World Series, playing in an All-Star game, and having my pick when it comes to endorsement deals.

Just putting that out there, universe. I’ll check back in when I’m twenty-seven and see what comes true. K, thanks.

And to do that, I need a killer first season.

I have to go into spring training and play hard every day.

Baseball is my one and only dream. This sport saw me through the toughest years. Hard times are in the rearview mirror at long last, and good riddance to those days I’d like to forget.

Hell, if I play my cards right, the opportunities for my career are endless.

That’s not cocky.

That’s just true.

Fine, maybe it’s a little bit cocky, but facts are facts, and these are mine. I’m twenty-two. I earned a degree in history from a good college, I racked up one bonkers season in minor league baseball, and thanks to going in the first round of the draft, I’m making bank as I get ready to head to Arizona for spring training. My goal there? Lock up the starting catcher slot. Lock it up so damn tight that the coach can’t picture anyone else but me behind the plate for the team.

Pretty sure I don’t have time for extracurricular activities. And that’s okay. I don’t need to be a hookup maestro. Besides, I bet the quest to be a player after hours is a recipe for disaster on the diamond.

So yeah, I suppose that’s my five-year plan. Don’t look back. Move the hell forward. Leave it all on the field.

Which means—don’t be distracted by men.

That shouldn’t be a problem for me.

I’ve learned to live, breathe, and eat the sport, and romance has taken a back seat. There will be time for men later in my twenties.

Not at my first spring training.

Not during my rookie year.

And definitely not with a man on my team anytime soon.

No matter how charming, sexy, smart, or easygoing a certain guy is. No matter how hot the attraction burns between us. And no matter how close I want to get to him.

And this turns out to be the biggest problem in my brand-new career. Not hitting a wicked fastball. Not scrambling for a wild pitch.

Nope, the problem is my shortstop.

Declan Steele.

From his easy confidence, to his deadpan wit, to the way he guides me through the complicated world of pro ball, I’m hooked on the man from the second I meet him.

Add in his movie star face and a carved body that makes me want to throw him against the wall and kiss the breath out of him—or hell, let him shove me against the door. I don’t care—and I’m not sure I stand a chance at my five-year plan.

Let alone a one-month plan.

Already I’m behind in the count, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to strike out on my first chance to make it in the pros.

But with Declan, I’m not sure I can be careful.

Or if I want to. Because he just might be everything I didn’t know I needed.





Winning with Him #2
Prologue
Grant
So, this is happiness. This is falling in love. I get it now. I understand why I waited.

For him.

For the possibility that sex could become so much more than a hot tangle under the sheets.

Yes, that’s what I wanted. More than a quick lay.

Someone who makes my heart thunder.

Declan Steele.

Even though I won’t see him for ages, I feel like my luck is changing when I leave him that morning before he takes off for Florida.

Leave him with a kiss and a promise that we’ll see each other again in November.

As I walk out of the hotel in Phoenix, I can picture a sandy beach in Miami, the ocean lapping the shore. I can feel the tropical sun warming my skin, the book in my hands. Declan will stride over to my lounge chair and . . . Screw the hero in the story, I’ll set that paperback down in an instant and kiss the hell out of the guy I love in real life.

We have a plan—a plan, a date, and a real chance.

For the first time in days, I feel like everything will go my way.

The Lyft drops me off at the team hotel in the dark of the night, before the sun dares peek over the horizon.

With a disgustingly happy smile, I go in via a side entrance. The halls are blissfully empty. The stairwell is quiet as I walk up the steps, slow and silent as a cat.

No one wanders along the sixth floor. No one opens a door. I slip back into my room unseen.

Safe.

My king-size bed calls to me, and I answer it, stripping out of my clothes, flopping onto the mattress, and sinking into the pillows.

I’m briefly tempted to send Declan a goodbye text before he gets on the plane to Florida. To tell him last night was epic and I can’t wait to do it again and again in November.

My fingers itch to send a sweet nothing. Hell, I’d love to get one from him.

But my better judgement wins out.

I could exercise some restraint. Get my baseball mojo back. Adjust the levers to crank up sports and dial down romance.

I’ve been dining on Declan Steele morning, noon, and night for the last week, and a short breather won’t hurt.

Maybe I’ll text him tonight.

Yeah, tonight feels better.

I set down my phone and close my eyes, replaying our dirty deeds as I drift off.

Yes, everything is going my way today. I just know it.


Three hours later, I’m on the field for the morning workout, kicking ass. Feeling as if anything is possible. The rest of the day unfolds like that—beautiful blue skies, a muscle-burning workout with Sullivan and Miguel, then a game at night.

At the plate, I key in on Declan’s words of advice. One of the last things he said to me when I left his room this morning. “In the last couple games, your weight was too far back on your knees. Shift forward maybe a millimeter. Like you usually do.”

With that adjustment, I make it to first on a line drive up the middle.

The next three batters go down, so that’s as far as I get, but I’ll take my single, thank you very much. First time in days I don’t go hitless.

When I’m suiting up to get behind the plate, I make a mental note to text Declan tonight and tell him it worked.

Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll say next time I talk to him.

For now, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I can get back in the game.





All In with Him #3
Prologue
Grant
My five-year plan didn’t just happen. It holy fuck happened.

When I was twenty-two, I had big dreams and nothing but hope to back them up.

Now, at twenty-seven, I’ve won a World Series, started in three All-Star games, and enjoyed my pick when it comes to endorsement deals.

My career hasn’t left the upswing.

I’m still playing the game I love for a living, so it’s hard to want for anything else. I know far too well what it’s like when life isn’t good, and I appreciate the hell out of every moment on and off the field.

Since my last five-year plan worked better than expected, maybe it’s time I laid down a new set of goals. After all, my world has changed so damn much since I made the first one.

Changed for the better.

The next plan will include these existing ground rules—live well and play hard. But I’m adding a third.

Love big.

I’m determined to let those principles guide me through the next phase of my life. I intend to savor each day, leave it all on the field, and give my everything to the man I love madly.

That’s what I didn’t include in my original plan—finding the big love of my life.

I have him now, and that means I have more than I ever dreamed of when I was growing up, when elusive things like happiness, safety, and comfort felt far out of reach.

They’re here now, big time.

But then, that old enemy, doubt, swings by.

Pokes me on the shoulder.

Whispers darkly in my ear.

Asks me if my life is too good to be true. If it’s going too well.

Maybe doubt knows something I don’t. Since one fine evening, when I’m out with my man at a club, I learn that finding love isn’t necessarily the hardest part.

Keeping it is.



A rookie and a veteran on the same baseball team – their romance is completely forbidden. Experience the passionate, angsty, sexy sports romance that spans first times, heart-stopping emotions, and five epic years!



Lauren Blakely

L. Blakely is the pen name of #1 NYT Bestseller Lauren Blakely when she writes MM romance. Find all of Lauren's solo MM romances more easily now by searching under the L. Blakely name. Covers will say "Lauren Blakely writing as L. Blakely!" Same great stories, easier search!


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EMAIL: lauren@laurenblakely.com



Scoring with Him #1

Winning with Him #2

All In with Him #3

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