Apparently I do, since I keep writing them!
"Fish Out of Water" in the He's the One anthology is a novella length spin-off from my ONE NIGHT WITH A COWBOY. The story pairs my two soldiers, Tuck and Logan, who both teach ROTC, with the English department head for an overnight camping trip planned by the military sciences department at Oklahoma State University, much to the chagrin of English professor Mark Ross. But don't feel too bad for Mark, because Tuck's assistant coach, cowgirl Carla Henricks from the OSU rodeo team, is also in attendance. :)
Please enjoy the following excerpt.
Cat
HE'S THE ONE
Multi-author anthology releasing June 25th in mass market
paperback and eBook
LINDA LAEL MILLER "Batteries
Not Required"
JILL SHALVIS "Captivated"
LUCY MONROE "Seducing Tabby"
KATE ANGELL "No Shirt, No
Shoes, No Service"
CAT JOHNSON "Fish Out of
Water"
"FISH OUT OF WATER" BY CAT
JOHNSON
BLURB
Carla Henricks is a cowgirl through and through, but her lasso has never met an English professor like Mark Ross. It’s true opposites attract.
Don't miss ONE NIGHT WITH A COWBOY by Cat Johnson for your first introduction to the sexy, nerdy English professor Mark Ross.
EXCERPT
“Stillwater, Oklahoma’s Lake
McMurtry offers both primitive and improved campsites.” Mark Ross read the
description from the computer screen, and then glanced up. “Primitive or
improved? I hate to even ask, because I doubt I’ll like the answer, but what’s
the difference? And more importantly, which one are we going to?”
Logan Hunt grinned back at him from the other side of the desk. “Why?
You worried?”
“Yes. Do you blame me? Primitive. What kind of description is that to try
to sell this place to the public? They need some help with their marketing
materials, I can tell you that.” With one finger, Mark pushed his glasses up
onto the bridge of his nose, from where they’d slid down. “And you still didn’t
answer my question.”
“The difference is that the primitive campsites only supply water,
while the improved sites have both water and electric.” Logan leaned back and
rested one heavy-looking combat boot on the camouflage-covered knee of the
opposite leg. Logan tended to make himself comfortable anywhere, whether he was
lounging on Mark’s office furniture, or in an easy chair in his living room.
Mark, on the other hand, was not at all comfortable with the idea of
this camping trip. “And we’re going to which site?”
By the smug expression on Logan’s face, Mark had a feeling he knew
which the man had chosen for the staff retreat even before he answered. “The
primitive.”
“Of course.” That’s what the university got for turning over the
planning of the year-end faculty event to the military science department.
Soldiers had a different idea of fun and relaxation—and comfort—from English
professors.
“Stop scowling, Mark. We take the ROTC cadets there for overnight
trips a few times a semester. Never lost one of them yet.” Logan’s persistent
grin was enough to make Mark want to wipe it right off his face.
As if he could. Mark had a feeling the six-foot-two lieutenant colonel
seated across from him had been trained well during his years in the army. At
least well enough to defend himself against a disgruntled English professor
armed with nothing more than a pen. Though they did say the pen was mightier
than the sword, Mark figured Logan’s combat training would win out in this
case.
“Jeez, Mark. Back out if you’re that miserable about going.”
“I can’t. I’m a department head. I have to lead by example.” Besides,
it had been strongly suggested by the powers-that-be at Oklahoma State
University that all heads of the departments go, whereas the assistant and
associate professors working beneath him could choose not to, and quite a few
had. “It is still one night, correct? Or did you tack on a few more fun-filled
days?”
“Yes, we’re only staying for one night. And stop acting like the whole
time is going to be torturous for you. Come on. It’ll be fun.” Logan’s
enthusiasm, whether fake or not, still wasn’t very convincing.
“Oh, I’m sure.” Tons of fun.
Sleeping in a tent, in the pitch dark no less, since there was no
electricity. Yeah, sure. That sounded like a blast. He’d be lucky if some
animal didn’t crawl in with him in the middle of the night.
“Seriously, Mark. The site’s laid out real nice. The lake has separate
areas for swimming and for fishing.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Meaning he’d be in the water right along with the fish
that probably all congregated in the designated swimming area, knowing
fishermen couldn’t get them there. “What other fun things do you have to entice
me?”
“Come on. There’s nothing like it. Think what a sense of
accomplishment you’ll have when you catch your own dinner and cook it over an
open fire.” Logan leaned forward, looking truly excited at the concept.
Landing his position as the youngest head of the English department at
OSU—that had given Mark a sense of accomplishment. Landing a fish? He
wasn’t certain that would qualify as being in the same league.
Oh, well. Nothing Mark could do about it now. The plans had been made,
and if nothing else, he’d learned his lesson. Next year, he’d plan the faculty
retreat, and it wouldn’t entail fishing. He’d have to look into the local
winery. They did tours and tastings. They could probably host a faculty
retreat. Now there’s a place he wouldn’t mind camping out. Rather than catching
a trout, or whatever species of fish he’d be swimming with shortly, he could
catch a nice wine buzz.
Speaking of camping and biting insects that went buzz in the night . .
. “You’re still bringing an extra tent for me, right?”
Sleeping in a tent might be pretty low on the list of things Mark
wanted to do in his lifetime, but sleeping outdoors without one was even lower.
The thought sent a chill straight up his spine.
“Yes, sir.” Logan nodded. “Tuck has an extra tent he’s bringing. And
I’ve got a spare sleeping bag for you to use.”
He hoped Logan’s friend Tucker was aware he’d not only be loaning the
tent, but also instructing Mark on how to erect the damn thing. These guys were
used to camping if they owned extras of both tents and sleeping bags, while
Mark didn’t own a single one of either.
Tucker Jenkins was one of Logan’s military science and ROTC
instructors. Mark knew the man, though not well. He should try to get to know
him better since Tuck was engaged to Becca Hart, one of the associate
professors in Mark’s department. She had conveniently planned to be visiting
her home in New York this week.
No dummy, that girl. Her fiancé, the owner of not one but at least two
tents, had probably already taken her camping, or at least tried to. City girl
that she was, Becca knew to get out of town or she’d have to go on this
overnight trek into the great outdoors.
Mark had no doubt he’d have plenty of time to bond with Tucker this
weekend. With no electricity, there wouldn’t be much else to do except get to
know each other. He should pack a deck of cards and some poker chips, just in
case they all got bored.
“Oh, and good news. I grabbed my extra fishing rod last time I was
home visiting my parents. It’s light action, but it’ll be good for what’s in
the lake, so I’ll bring that along, too.”
Mark had never held a fishing rod in his life and chances were Logan
damn well knew that.
It looked like Mark would be learning how to fish on this trip as well
as erect tents. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll, uh, bring along my extra eReader, if you’d
like.”
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