Hello all, please welcome Janice O'Hara with her book, Cold And Hottie. This book is part of the Tropical Tryst Box Set. Without further ado, Janice, tell us about your book!
Book cover back blurb:
What fresh hell is this, mon?
A decade ago, in a messy breakup with the only man she has ever loved, Olivia Prosser behaved badly. She has lived with the consequences since in a decent-if-uninspiring life.
Then bad news comes in rapid succession. The company she works for has been purchased; her ex, Finn Wakefield, is her new boss; and she must attend a retreat in Jamaica, supervised by Finn and a half-crazy psychologist. One week filled with forced intimacy and corporate-speak, not to mention memories better left in the past.
A white knight’s armor will rust in salt water.
For years and with ample justification, Finn Wakefield has placed the blame for his breakup with Liv squarely on her shoulders. Then new information comes to light. Not only might Liv be innocent, the party who framed her might be continuing their sabotage from within Wakefield’s newest acquisition.
But Liv shows no interest in righting the wrongs of the past. Is that because she is over Finn? Or because she has reason to protect the saboteur? Either way, he can’t let it go. For the sake of his company and his heart, in the guise of team solidarity, Finn will push for the truth.
At 4:37 p.m. on Friday, after weeks of dread and just when I’ve convinced myself I’ve been spared, a dossier bearing the title Jamaica lands on my desk. Tucker had probably been aiming for my in-basket, but since he’s standing in my doorway and the basket is overflowing, the folder tips over the edge and continues its horizontal motion. It comes to rest on the refinery drawings I’ve been marking up, the right lower edge touching a pump that needs modernization.
When I find my voice I say, “You’re kidding me.”
Tucker’s smile is his signature blend of cynicism and amusement. “If you pull yourself together and need to talk, I’ll be in my office for another five minutes.” He pivots on a well-shod foot and vanishes from sight.
I turn the pencil in my hand and use the eraser to tease out the top sheaf of paper, willing this to be one of his practical jokes. Easy enough to put a label on a folder and pack it with documents destined for the shredder. Then to stand in the hall just out of sight, ready to pop in with a, Haha, Liv, got you good this time.
Alas, this evening brings no such luck. For there in black and white, issued in the name of one Olivia Prosser, is an e-ticket for this coming Monday morning. I’m flying from Columbus to Kingston, via Atlanta.
I use the pencil to extract the next sheaf. Apparently the resort and I have corresponded, most recently when I confirmed an ocean-facing, non-smoking room with a king-sized bed.
At least I was smart enough to avoid having a roommate.
I close my eyes and bend forward to clunk my head repeatedly on my desk. Having seen fellow staffers open their envelopes, I don’t need to examine the rest of the paperwork to know what it contains. There will be a shiny brochure on the all-inclusive resort’s amenities. (Seven pools! Six restaurants featuring international cuisine! Unlimited soft drinks and booze in your room’s mini-fridge!) There will be a listing of optional paid activities, both inside the resort and on the island. Finally, there will be the handout delineating the source of my dry mouth and blossoming headache.
I don’t need to look at the handout but…I stop banging my head and do it anyway, because some masochistic impulses can’t be resisted.
Three months ago, the company I work for, HMZ Consulting, was purchased by Wakefield Enterprises. When I say “purchased,” I really mean “swallowed whole.” We were the krill to Wakefield’s blue whale. Now the time has come for us to “harmonize our corporate cultures.” Accordingly, for the past several months, select employees within my office have been receiving invitations to the upcoming retreat in Jamaica. Once trained in the ways of the mothership, they—and I guess that includes me now—will return as ambassadors to the home office, where we will spread the ways of enlightenment.
Most of the five-day retreat will be run by Wakefield’s second-in-command, Yolanda Perez. The brochure photo shows a woman in her early forties with tight black braids and a confident smile. She’s a psychologist, reportedly half-crazy in her own right, and the rumors about her outdoor group exercises are downright intimidating.
Then there’s the CEO, Finnegan Wakefield. I don’t know if his photo has been retouched, but thirty-four looks good on him. Even better than twenty-four did, if that’s possible.
Finn is giving the Tuesday noon keynote—one hour is his full commitment for the entire program. Depending upon how he receives me, that one hour could be all it takes to upend my life.
Apple iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/tropical-tryst/id1229317436?mt=11&uo=4/
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tropical-tryst-nicole-morgan/1126357855?ean=9781508076988/
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Nicole_Morgan_Tropical_Tryst?id=kOO4DgAAQBAJ/
About the author:
A former family physician who once provided birth-to-death healthcare, Jan O'Hara has left medicine behind and now spends her days torturing people on paper. (See? Win-win scenarios really do exist.)
She writes for the popular blog Writer Unboxed and lives in Alberta, Canada.
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