Today's post for contemporary romance Game On! Never to Love and Never to Love is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author, Tara C. MacDonald will be awarding a print of local art by artist Wendy Beaver of Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour (North American addresses only). Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Game On! Never to Part and Never to Love is an e-book with two short stories. Never to Part features Ryan almost getting run over by Sam at a bar one night. They see each other again as Ryan's hockey team is hiring her marketing firm in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada. What can these two confused overachievers do when love strikes. Never to Love brings us to Halifax again where James and Sarah bump heads in a business deal to help out his motocross sponsorship prospects. Will they be able to put business aside and commit to their passions?
Enjoy an excerpt from Never to Love:
James walked into the sports bar after parking his Harley and ordered a Guinness. He silently raised his glass to his ex-fiancée and her cheating ways before gulping it down.
“Another.” He tipped the bartender, a man with his eyes on the local hockey channel.
After the second one he stopped himself and wiped foam from his upper lip as he smelled expensive perfume. He watched as a blond beauty swung open an office door at the back and he heard her heels click as she descended upon the bartender. She tossed her hair and gestured wildly but the old man was ignoring her with his arms crossed. His cronies kept their eyes on the game. James glanced around and realized he was the only one in there. Maybe she was the waitress? His stomach growled and he raised his arm.
“Hey. What’s a guy got to do to get some food around here?”
The blonde turned and gripped the bar rails.
“Sir.” Her voice was like ice. “I am not the waitress. Mike here can let the cook know what you want.”
He frowned at her tone. “Well, you’re here now. I’d like some wings. Hot barbeque. And a poutine. You do that here?”
Her blue eyes seemed to be made of crystal. She took a step forward. Sensing he’d gone too far but unwilling to show his throat to any female, he watched as she shook in rage.
“I got it, son. Sarah, go take a load off, eh? You’re ruining the game,” said the bartender casually without making eye contact.
“There’s no point anymore, Dad,” she muttered. Her shoulders slumped as she turned back to the office she came from.
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