Welcome to Teaser Tuesday, my new weekly series where I tantalise you with snippets from upcoming and past book releases, and works-in-progress. This week, some fun from from SUMMER AND THE GROOMSMAN.

This is a sweet rural romance set around Em’s and Josh’s wedding, the heroine and hero from Rocking Horse Hill, and features local farmer, big Harry Argyle, and beautician and new girl in town, Summer Taylor. It’s no spoiler to reveal that their romance does not get off to a good start!

I’ll be talking more about this book over coming months but if you want to be the first to know about its cover, blurb and release date, please sign up to my newsletter. Simply click on the Newsletter tab in the menu above or fill in the widget when it slides onto your screen. Once your subscription is confirmed you’ll also receive the link to a lovely short story to enjoy over a cuppa.

Now delight in a taste of SUMMER AND THE GROOMSMAN!

Harry proved such a long lump of a man that his legs extended well over the end of the table. His broad back and muscular shoulders nearly filled its width too. Summer had massaged a few sportsmen in her time but never one quite so . . . She wasn’t sure how to describe him. He wasn’t body-builder muscular, or like the super-fit who were so deficient in body fat, all she felt was bone, muscle and sinew. He was simply tall and, well, rather deliciously meaty.

He smelled nice too. Often the men who came in for treatments overdid it with the cologne or deodorant. Harry just smelled clean, with a hint of spice. Not that any of that had any bearing on the way Summer felt about him. Good-looking lump or not, he was still a thug.

But she’d been in this business one way or another since she’d left school and she knew how to maintain professional detachment. Except for the little hiccup when she’d first caught sight of him at reception, and again when she’d seen him standing bare-chested by the table, she’d been fine. He was the one naked, after all. And to her delight he’d been even more stupid with nerves than her. Stuttering and making a fool of himself. The schoolgirl in her had cheered, but as his little-boy-lost bumbling continued, the woman in her had begun to feel a tiny bit sorry for him.

Then he’d gone and ruined it by claiming he was sensitive. Yeah, sure he was. So sensitive he thought it perfectly acceptable to insult and swear at a woman half his size, then menace and threaten her like a mafia hit man. Worst of all, he’d called poor innocent Binky stupid.

If anyone was stupid it was Harry Argyle.

© Cathryn Hein 2015