A Hot Man and a Quickie ~ 'Baseball' Means 'No'?

The hot man:

While I do enjoy a good game of football, I'd love to persuade gorgeous romance cover model John Quinlan to pick up a baseball bat for his next shoot. Perhaps that's because I have baseball on the brain right now. Come on, Opening Day! 

Places to stalk John:

http://irishjohnquinlan.blogspot.com/

http://www.johnquinlan.org/

http://twitter.com/johnjquinlan

Baseball  made an appearance in my excerpt today,too:

The quickie: (excerpt from Forceful Negotiations, Carmine Club V.1)

What's that? Oh, yeah, I did change this cover again.  (blush) This is the final version, pinkie swear. 

Jane merely smiled and pressed her palms to her knees, locking her elbows. “You understand this is role play, Cameron?”

“I understand no means no.” The frost in his tone should have painted her office walls whiter than that damn ballroom. He stared over her shoulder, refusing to look at the woman, though he felt her scrutiny. Instead, he looked at the neat row of her diplomas, framed in black. The wall behind them was painted dark beige or light brown. He couldn't decide what to call the color. He did know what to call the obscenity written on the paper she wouldn't take from him. Rape. How many times had he promised a jury no woman had ever asked to be raped?

“In this case, ‘baseball’ means ‘no’.” Jane’s statement sounded so ludicrous, he turned to look at her. “That’s her safe word, the word that causes all activity to cease immediately, no matter what may be happening. She wants this, Cameron. It’s her fantasy.” Jane leaned forward so abruptly her glasses slipped down her nose. She laid her hand on his knee. “Cam, you went into that ballroom. You picked her. You touched her, maybe even intimately. A connection was formed. Despite the titillating idea of illicit sex, what happens here is quite different. These women bare themselves so they can get some sexual healing.”

Looking away from her beseeching eyes, Cam narrowed his gaze on the row of diplomas again. “Then she needs a shrink.”

“No, what she needs is for you to get in touch with that man you've muted, the less civilized one lurking inside.” 

Her voice. Dear God, Aphrodite’s voice came from the throat of this plain woman. It was like audible sex. He didn't want to listen, but her words seemed to penetrate his brain.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Speaking of baseball, starting April 1, I'll be writing a novel in

 weekly installments, right here on my blog. Guarding the Line 

is a paranormal baseball romance. How's that for genre-

bending? You can read the premise here. 

Thanks for dropping in! See you next week, when hopefully, I'll

 be announcing the release of Breaking Glass.