Bury the Hatchet
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the work of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Bury the Hatchet
Copyright © 2015 by Catherine Gayle
Cover Design by Kim Killion, The Killion Group
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.
For more information:
[email protected]
Exclusive Preview: Smoke Signals
Other Books by Catherine Gayle
For Jenny.
He was poised to be an elite goalie for a contending team.
Hunter Fielding has long since proven himself to be one of the best goaltenders in the NHL. The problem? His former team had another (slightly better) backstop. They left Hunter out to dry, the upstart Tulsa Thunderbirds claimed him in the expansion draft, and he made a few stupid comments about backasswards Oklahomans. Now the T-Birds say the only way he can redeem himself is to make nice for the media with some local goody two shoes who’s made some mistakes of her own.
Oklahoma’s sweetheart could do no wrong until she could do no right.
Tallulah Belle Roth was the reigning Miss Oklahoma USA until a night of out-of-control drinking, a naked foray in a hot tub with very bad
boy, and a bunch of lowlights on TMZ. Now she’s been stripped of her crown and is facing the censure of the same people who made her out to be Little Miss Perfect. Tallie won’t ever get her title back, but her life is another matter—and the only way the public will allow her to do that is if she presents herself as happily settled with someone else under Oklahoma’s eye.
The marriage is to be in name only—one year of sickeningly-sweet lovey-dovey PDA, all to get their detractors to bury the hatchet. Those kisses and tender moments for the cameras take an emotional toll, though. Can
in name only
be enough?
BURY THE HATCHET is Book 1 in the
Tulsa Thunderbirds
hockey romance series, a spin-off from USA Today bestselling author Catherine Gayle’s
Portland Storm
. Look for Book 2, SMOKE SIGNALS, on October 22, 2015. Book 3, GHOST DANCE, will release on May 5, 2016.
Want to join in the
Tulsa Thunderbirds
discussion? Join the
Facebook reader group
.
If you enjoy this book and want to try more of the same, be sure to look for the
Portland Storm
books: BREAKAWAY, ON THE FLY, TAKING A SHOT, LIGHT THE LAMP, DELAY OF GAME, DOUBLE MAJOR, IN THE ZONE, HOLIDAY HAT TRICK, COMEBACK, and DROPPING GLOVES. HOME ICE will release on August 13, 2015. LOSING AN EDGE will release on February 18, 2016. Also, join Catherine Gayle’s
mailing list
to receive ICE BREAKER, a
Portland Storm
short story prequel that you can’t get anywhere else.
There is also a
reader group on Facebook
for the
Portland Storm
series.
THE AUGUST SUN
in Tulsa was intense enough to melt my bones, hotter even than the water I’d recently found myself in after making a few drunken, pissed-off, and ill-advised comments in Vegas last month. I’d been there for the NHL Awards, hoping to celebrate one of my buddies from the goalie guild winning the Vezina Trophy.
I didn’t quite make it to that part of the awards presentation because my agent, John Stine, had slipped over to whisper some unwelcome news in my ear. An expansion draft had taken place earlier in the day so the league’s new team, the Tulsa Thunderbirds, could stock up on players for their debut season. I’d known that was going on, of course. Everyone did. I also knew my team had left me unprotected, meaning it was almost guaranteed that I’d get claimed by the new team since I was far and away the best goaltender left in limbo. Sure enough, I was the first player the Thunderbirds selected.
So instead of battling it out for the starting gig against Nicky Ericsson, another goalie with the Portland Storm, I was heading to Oklahoma to play for a team that would unquestionably be appallingly bad for many years to come. The Storm were a legitimate threat to win the Stanley Cup these days. Needless to say, I wasn’t exactly excited about this latest development in my career.
After getting the news and being assured there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it, I’d spent the rest of the night in the hotel bar, drowning my sorrows in an unending series of tequila shots. It was just my luck that half the contingent of hockey media present was hanging out just outside the bar. They stopped me when John finally hauled my sorry ass out of there, blinding my bleary eyes with their lights and shoving their damn microphones in my face.