All The Write Stuff: Strike Three: You’re in Love

Why love the game when you can love the 'opposition' instead?

Strike Three: You’re in Love

by Anna Denisch

Genre: LGBTQ Sports Romance

Why love the game when you can love the 'opposition' instead?

Cody never wanted to play Baseball in the first place, but when his coworker keeps pestering, he agrees to join his company's league team. El only started playing for his company's team to get ahead in his career, and now he's stuck still playing a few years later. When the two meet for the first time on the field, it's an instant connection. With a low-stakes league taken way to seriously by the rest of their teams, Cody and El must work to build a safe bubble for themselves both in the games and in their personal lives.

Strike Three: You're in Love, is a cozy sports romance about two guys who don't like Baseball. This low-stakes book is all about romantic vibes, silly dates, steamy nights, and people getting way too invested in a game without any actual prize to win.

EXCERPT

"You have a very nice butt,” he said.

The hitter stalled and missed the first throw completely.

“STRIKE!” Rafael called. A little too loud, El thought.

The batter turned his scowl back to him. “Did you hear what he said to me?”

Rafael shrugged. “Yeah? So?”

The batter huffed in exasperation. “He can’t say stuff like that.”

“Nothing against it in the rules,” El said.

“It’s a compliment,” Rafael agreed.

The hitter grumbled and knocked the dirt from his shoes. “Exactly who’s side are you on here?”

“Oh, whichever side gets the most veins to pop out of the most heads,” Rafael said with a laugh. El wasn’t too big to admit that he didn’t fight Rafael much on most things, as he did let El get away with quite a lot.

Although, in this case, he hadn’t even been trying to get away with anything. He just genuinely thought this guy had a nice butt.

The batter shook his head and took a calming breath before readying again. His hit was just a few inches off, the ball sailing right under him.

“Strike two!” Rafael announced.

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Hey, don’t make me red flag you,” Rafael said.

“That’s soccer,” El said.

“I’m the ump. If I wanna red flag someone, I’ll red flag them.”

El chuckled softly and got ready for the next pitch. He could see the hitter’s eyes squint, his body tightening up as he prepared. He was clearly riled up, which might serve well for El’s team, at least.

Michelle made the next pitch, a curveball to the left, that the hitter swung at expertly. Unfortunately, his expert swing didn’t make a connection. The batter growled and glared down at the ball in El’s mitt. El could see him practically start to fume when Rafael yelled, “Strike three, you’re out!”

“Good try,” El said. Because it had been a really good swing. And then the batter turned his glare to El before he walked back to the dugout

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Book Links:
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About the Author

Anna Denisch was born and raised just outside of Baltimore City, but she has never called it home. When not traveling around the world or daydreaming about dragons, she spends her time looking at books she wants to read without actually touching them. She received her M.F.A in Creative and Professional Writing from Western Connecticut State University and considers daily if she is just insane enough to take her family’s sometime suggestion of getting a PhD.

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