Thursday, April 12, 2012

Let the Games Begin

It's Playoff Time! Yes, my Maple Leafs and my Montreal Canadiens are out of the running (sobs) but I'll be glued to the television as the drama unfolds.

You can be sure I won't root for Ottawa. Sorry guys.

Everyone loves a hockey hero. In BAD ICE, my male protagonist Jason might suffer from a bit of cluelessness at times, but his heart is in the right place. 

His ex-girlfriend Sheila, on the other hand, is a first class beeotch. In the spirit of competition, fast play and dirty tactics, I decided to give you all a little peek at her personality through an excerpt:

It was a long bus ride from Milton to the Bay Street bus station. For the first time in years, Sheila took a streetcar to her condo. When she unlocked the door and stepped inside, she noticed the apartment smelled stale and felt cold. After cranking up the heat, she picked up the pile of mail on the floor and started to go through the bills and brochures. She tossed the pile on the glass-topped dining room table in disgust and checked the refrigerator. Nothing. She should have reminded Mary to pick up some groceries in preparation for her return.

She considered herself damn lucky she'd got through the last few months relatively unscathed. She was still the owner of the clothing store, although forced to borrow heavily against the business to pay her lawyer fees. 

Her lawyer had somehow managed to negotiate the return of her Cherokee instead of losing it to the next police auction. The vehicle was waiting for her in the underground parking garage, its bumper still askew from the contact with Christina’s Ford. So what if her license was suspended. The Jeep was available when she needed it.

Sheila rummaged through the cupboards and found an unopened can of tonic. Opening the freezer, she was pleased to discover a half bottle of vodka still nestled inside.

She mixed a drink, moved to the living room and slid open a drawer in a side table, plucking Ian’s old appointment book from the mess of restaurant takeout menus. Leafing through it, she found what she was looking for, a list of names and addresses from the team roster.

She ran her finger down the list until she reached Jason’s name. She brushed the handwritten words lightly as if it were his face. Sighing, her eyes scanned upward until she found Bertie’s name. Smiling, she drained her drink, quickly assembled another and downed that one, too. She slipped the address book into her purse, flipped on the television and found the satellite station carrying the game in Chicago. Settling on the sofa, she watched Jason as he wove gracefully around his opponents. She started to talk to him as if he was in the room.

“I missed you, sweetie. Sorry I can't visit you, but maybe we can get together when you play in Toronto.”

After her third drink, she stopped measuring. She splashed vodka into the glass, topping it up with a hint of tonic. Soon she was out of mixer and continued to take shots of chilled vodka until the bottle was empty. Before the game was finished, she fell asleep on the sofa.

Sandra Cormier is the author of BAD ICE, a hockey romantic suspense published by Champagne Books.


January Bain said...

Sandra, your book sounds most interesting!!!

Sandra Cormier said...

Thank you!