The Weather Girl
by Amy Vastine
The Book
Genre: contemporary romance
About The Weather Girl:
Turbulence is in their forecastSource: Info in the About The Weather Girl was from the press kit from the publicity team.
Summer Raines knows when it's going to rain. She can feel it. That's why the local weather girl's so good at her job. Too bad she couldn't have foreseen the tumultuous arrival of Travis Lockwood, everybody's favorite star NFL quarterback. Make that former star NFL quarterback. Sidelined back to Texas after an injury, the golden boy is trying to steal her precious on-air time. Summer is reduced to reporting from…football games. It's enough to make her quit and become a storm-chaser like her parents. She's stuck with a career that's going nowhere and a man who delights in her refusal to be charmed. Falling in love isn't nearly as easy as predicting the weather.
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Excerpt:
“Good afternoon, Weather Girl.”
Her annoyance at that nickname was obvious. Her naturally pink cheeks flushed red and made him smile. She hated him and he loved it.
“Mr. Lockwood, good to see you were able to dry off after last night,” she quipped.
Travis’s laugh was deep. How he’d missed laughing for real and not for show. “I plan on telling Ken it’s entirely your fault if I catch a cold.”
“I don’t control the weather, I just predict it.” She turned her attention back to her monitor. Her soft-looking curls fell down like a curtain, shielding her face from him. He wanted to reach out and push them behind her ear so he could see those cheeks, those eyes. Her eyes really were amazing. They were big and blue like the Texas sky.
He sat on the edge of her desk. She flipped her hair off her shoulder and side-eyed him, saying nothing. He picked up the framed photo of a young couple and a curly-haired, little girl in front of something that looked like a souped- up tank. She snatched it out of his hands and set it back in its place. “Is there something you need? Maybe you’re looking to unload thirty seconds from your segment? Or are you just here to bother me?”
“I was the special guest at the Abilene Rotary Club’s luncheon today. They think you have magic powers. Said you’ve never been wrong about when it’s going to rain.” He left out the part where they wondered if she was a witch.
“No magic powers,” she said, trying to look disinterested.
“That’s what I said. I told them it was nothing but luck, and odds were you’d get it wrong one of these days.” Summer stopped what she was doing and turned her whole body in his direction.
“Did you, now?”
Finally, he had her full attention. He smiled. Most ladies loved the dimples, but they only seemed to fuel Summer’s fire. “I mean, if it’s not magic, what else could it be?”
“You were a football player before this, correct?”
He liked how she had to ask, as if she wasn’t completely sure. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Does that not require any intuition at all? Or do you just learn how to play and that’s it? Anybody with any athletic ability can do it?”
Again, she made him laugh. “Anyone can play. But to be good, you need to read more than a playbook.”
“Exactly,” she said with a smile and a wave of her hand. “I read more than the radar. I can’t explain how it works, I just feel it. I’m sure there are things you can’t teach someone about football. They just know it or they don’t.”
“Well, that’s probably true. My mom swears I was born wearing a helmet. I probably know more about football than I want to.” That was the truth. He had slept, eaten, drunk and breathed football his entire life. “Anytime you want to learn something about the game, I’d be happy to teach you.”
She froze, her pretty pink lips parted. He’d hit the nerve he was looking for. Football held about as much of her interest as watching paint dry held his. She turned forward and shook her head. “I don’t want to learn about football.”
“Maybe you could teach me about predicting the rain, then?” Travis knew all about defensive strategy. She could block his pass all afternoon, but he wasn’t going to stop trying for that touchdown.
She shook her head again. “You don’t want to hear about weather forecasting.”
“I do. I swear.”
“Go away, Mr. Lockwood.”
“You’re leaving me no choice,” he warned. “I’m gonna have to tell everyone at the Rotary Club it’s magic.”
Her annoyance at that nickname was obvious. Her naturally pink cheeks flushed red and made him smile. She hated him and he loved it.
“Mr. Lockwood, good to see you were able to dry off after last night,” she quipped.
Travis’s laugh was deep. How he’d missed laughing for real and not for show. “I plan on telling Ken it’s entirely your fault if I catch a cold.”
“I don’t control the weather, I just predict it.” She turned her attention back to her monitor. Her soft-looking curls fell down like a curtain, shielding her face from him. He wanted to reach out and push them behind her ear so he could see those cheeks, those eyes. Her eyes really were amazing. They were big and blue like the Texas sky.
He sat on the edge of her desk. She flipped her hair off her shoulder and side-eyed him, saying nothing. He picked up the framed photo of a young couple and a curly-haired, little girl in front of something that looked like a souped- up tank. She snatched it out of his hands and set it back in its place. “Is there something you need? Maybe you’re looking to unload thirty seconds from your segment? Or are you just here to bother me?”
“I was the special guest at the Abilene Rotary Club’s luncheon today. They think you have magic powers. Said you’ve never been wrong about when it’s going to rain.” He left out the part where they wondered if she was a witch.
“No magic powers,” she said, trying to look disinterested.
“That’s what I said. I told them it was nothing but luck, and odds were you’d get it wrong one of these days.” Summer stopped what she was doing and turned her whole body in his direction.
“Did you, now?”
Finally, he had her full attention. He smiled. Most ladies loved the dimples, but they only seemed to fuel Summer’s fire. “I mean, if it’s not magic, what else could it be?”
“You were a football player before this, correct?”
He liked how she had to ask, as if she wasn’t completely sure. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Does that not require any intuition at all? Or do you just learn how to play and that’s it? Anybody with any athletic ability can do it?”
Again, she made him laugh. “Anyone can play. But to be good, you need to read more than a playbook.”
“Exactly,” she said with a smile and a wave of her hand. “I read more than the radar. I can’t explain how it works, I just feel it. I’m sure there are things you can’t teach someone about football. They just know it or they don’t.”
“Well, that’s probably true. My mom swears I was born wearing a helmet. I probably know more about football than I want to.” That was the truth. He had slept, eaten, drunk and breathed football his entire life. “Anytime you want to learn something about the game, I’d be happy to teach you.”
She froze, her pretty pink lips parted. He’d hit the nerve he was looking for. Football held about as much of her interest as watching paint dry held his. She turned forward and shook her head. “I don’t want to learn about football.”
“Maybe you could teach me about predicting the rain, then?” Travis knew all about defensive strategy. She could block his pass all afternoon, but he wasn’t going to stop trying for that touchdown.
She shook her head again. “You don’t want to hear about weather forecasting.”
“I do. I swear.”
“Go away, Mr. Lockwood.”
“You’re leaving me no choice,” he warned. “I’m gonna have to tell everyone at the Rotary Club it’s magic.”
Meet The Author
Amy Vastine has been plotting stories in her head for as long as she can remember. An eternal optimist, she studied social work, hoping to teach others how to find their silver lining. Now, she enjoys creating happily ever afters for all to read.
In September of 2012, she saw a tweet about Harlequin's So You Think You Can Write contest. She entered, hoping for nothing more than a little feedback from some people in the business. Amazingly, The Weather Girl made it into the semi-finals, thanks to the many wonderful voters out there! The manuscript didn't make it to the finals, but the editors over Harlequin were still interested. A few revisions later and The Weather Girl was contacted for publication with Harlequin Heartwarming - a dream come true!
Amy lives outside Chicago with her high school sweetheart-turned-husband, three fun-loving children, and their sweet but mischievous puppy dog.
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5/4 - Grand Finale
Giveaway
- Grand Prize: $25 Amazon gift card, red umbrella, signed copy of THE WEATHER GIRL, umbrella bookmark, and decorative box (US Only)
- 5 ebooks of The Weather Girl (INT)
- April 21 - May 11
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My perfect weather day: temperature 15-20 celcius degrees. The sun is shining, light breeze and no work!
ReplyDeleteSounds cute to me :)
ReplyDeleteThank you for participating in the tour today! I am so grateful for your support :)
ReplyDelete