Grand Slam
by Tracie Delaney Winning Ace #3 Publication Date: October 11, 2017 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Serial
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SYNOPSIS:
A destroyed career.
A bitter break-up.
After Tally’s perfect life implodes, she moves to Greece. There she finds a country overcome with refugees fleeing the crisis in the Middle East.
She vows to help and, in the process, begins to heal herself.
Shattered by his loss, Cash commits to months of therapy, determined to win back the love of his life. His struggles, though, are far from over.
When a shocking turn of events thrusts Tally back into Cash’s life a moment of joy brings a stranger into their lives.
Who is she? What does she want?
And will Tally and Cash ever find lasting happiness?
Grand Slam has the answers readers have been waiting for. Grab your copy today.
EXCERPT #1
Cash wandered aimlessly around the house, catching sight of himself in the hallway mirror. He looked like shit—hair unkempt, beard in desperate need of a trim. He had dark circles under his eyes, an outward sign of an internal battle.
The buzzer sounded, telling him someone was at the front gates. Well, they could fuck off. He didn’t want to see anyone.
“Cash, it’s Mum. Is everything okay?”
Not even her.
“I don’t care how long I have to stand here before you let me in, but you should know it’s raining. Do you want me to catch cold?”
He grimaced as guilt pinched at his insides. Of course not. What does she take me for?
“Tally, open the gates, darling, or so help me, I’m climbing over.”
Fuck.
He pressed the buzzer, estimating it would take his mother about two minutes to walk up the drive. He had two minutes to get his shit together and try to find a way to explain why Natalia wasn’t there.
He didn’t get two minutes. Sixty seconds later, Mum knocked at the door.
“You should have called.” Cash opened it, ignoring her shocked face as she got a good look at him.
“I did. Several times.” Rachael closed the door behind her and followed him into the living room. Her eyes fell on the broken vase he still hadn’t dredged up the energy to tidy since he’d smashed it three days earlier. He hadn’t aimed for Natalia. Had he?
“What’s going on? Where’s Tally? And why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“That’s a lot of questions,” he muttered, dragging a trembling hand through his hair.
“So take them one at a time.”
“Fine,” he snapped. “I’m losing my fucking mind. Natalia isn’t here because I threw her out, and I’m not answering my phone because I don’t fucking want to talk to anyone.”
He sank onto the sofa and glanced at the floor because he couldn’t stand to look at the stunned expression on his mother’s face. Silence lay thick between them. It was his responsibility to speak first, but the words of apology stuck in his throat.
The sofa dipped as his mother sat beside him. Her fingers wrapped around his, and she squeezed. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“No.”
“Is she okay?” she asked gently.
He flashed her a black look. “You mean have I turned into my father?”
“That isn’t what I meant,” she said in an indignant tone. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Cash.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “She’s fine. But she won’t be if she stays with me.”
“What does that mean?”
He faced her, hot tears burning his eyes because he refused to let them fall. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I get angry over nothing, and I have no control over it. I can’t turn into him, Mum.”
“Oh, Cash.” She put her arms around him. For a few seconds, he remained stiff, but as she hugged tighter he gave in, sinking against her. She stroked his hair and whispered comforting words in his ear.
“I had to make her go, because if I didn’t, I couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t hurt her.”
She gently cupped his face, giving him no choice but to look at her. “You need help, sweetheart.”
He jerked his head back and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not seeing a shrink.”
A resigned sigh spilled from her lips. “Then there must be someone you can talk to. Someone who understands what you’re going through.”
He pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he contemplated his mother’s idea. There was someone, but Cash hadn’t seen him in a long while. Far too long.
The time had come to build bridges.
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Excerpt #1
Alone, Cash directed his gaze around the room. His eyes met Tally’s—and stayed there. She shivered and turned away. She plucked her napkin off the table and fussed about, placing it in her lap. When she raised her head, Cash was still staring directly at her. His lips were pressed into a firm line, his brows pulled low over his eyes. This time, when she tried to turn away, she found herself unable to break from the intensity of his unwavering stare. Her heart skipped a beat. What if he’d figured out she’d replaced Victoria and was wondering why she wasn’t wearing her lanyard? She tensed, half expecting him to summon security and have her thrown out.
His hypnotic gaze eventually moved past her, and her shoulders slumped. Wiping her palms on her napkin, she wistfully eyed the exit, but if she left while everyone was seated, all eyes would be on her, and she was trying to blend in, not stand out.
She took a sip of water to soothe her parched throat, shaking her head at the sommelier’s offer of wine. She needed to keep a clear head while she worked out what her next move should be. She had to find a way to get close to Cash, even if it wasn’t one-on-one. Maybe his lips loosened after a glass or two of alcohol, and she could hover in the background and pick up a story that way, or even better, Ralph might let something slip. She fiddled with her napkin, relaying it in her lap several times, acknowledging but hating the signs of anxiety: the terrible churning in her abdomen, the dry mouth, the clammy hands.
“Cash, good to see you.”
Tally’s head snapped up as Ralph got to his feet to shake hands with Cash. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, almost as if Cash were creating his own magnetic field or, more likely, due to her own terror at being found out.
Cash nodded and murmured greetings at the other guests. He picked up Victoria’s place card. “Where’s Kaminsky?”
At first, Tally thought Cash was asking her, and her heart almost leapt out of her chest, but then she noticed he was looking at Ralph.
“You haven’t scared her off already have you, Ralphie?”
Ralph’s booming laugh caused several guests at nearby tables to glance over their shoulders.
“If anyone’s going to scare off the press, it’s you, my boy.”
Cash’s low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “That’s true. A no-show, then?”
“Seems so.”
Cash swept a hand over his beard as his gaze fell on Tally. “And who do we have here?”
His soft Northern Irish burr had a smoky undertone more inviting than her favourite brand of coffee, and Tally squirmed in her seat.
“Tally McKenzie,” she replied, trying desperately to keep the slight waver out of her voice.
“Is that so?” Cash tilted his head to one side as his gaze almost lazily swept over her. Tally had an urge to wipe her hands on her napkin again, but that would have given away her reaction to his slow appraisal. Eventually, his eyes lifted upwards. “And who are you here with?”
Before Tally could answer with a lie, Cash’s agent appeared. Kinga possessively touched Cash’s arm, and she gave Tally the once-over in that special way only women can do. She mustn’t have felt remotely challenged, though, because her gaze barely lingered before she turned away and smiled warmly at Ralph.
“I know you can talk for England, my darling Ralphie, but dinner is about to be served. I’m afraid I need to steal our host away. I’m sure you and Cash can catch up later.”
“Aw, Kinga,” Ralph said, pulling her into a warm hug. “Only you can deliver an insult with a smile that has me coming back for more.”
Tally heaved a sigh of relief as the attention moved away from her, and her pulse had almost returned to normal when a warm hand curved around the back of her neck. She glanced over her shoulder—and her stomach jolted. Cash bent down and softly whispered in her ear, “Don’t think you’ve got away with it, sweetness. I know everyone here except you. Believe me, I’ll be rectifying that situation.”
LOSING GAME, #2
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Excerpt #1
“Hello, Natalia.”
The sharp
pain in her chest couldn’t have been any worse if someone had cracked open her
ribcage, reached inside, and torn out her heart.
“Leave me
alone, Cash,” she croaked to the man she’d adored since she was fifteen.
“I can’t
do that.”
She
tightened her grip on the door handle, certain if she let go she’d crumple to
the floor. “Don’t you think I’ve been hurt enough?” she whispered.
Cash bowed
his head, and his shoulders drooped. “I don’t want to cause you any more pain.”
“Then go
away.” She turned her back on him and opened the door.
“Please,
Natalia. Can we go inside and talk?”
She rested
her forehead against the doorframe. “No,” she said in a wavering voice. Tears
pricked behind her eyes. She dug her fingernails into her palm as she swallowed
past an uncomfortable lump in her throat.
“I can
explain,” he said, his hand lightly touching her arm.
She spun
out of his reach but kept her back to him. “I said no.” Her chin trembled, and
she clenched her jaw to stop the involuntary movement. “I’m not interested in
anything you have to say.”
“I know
I’ve fucked up. Please, let me inside. I’ll tell you everything. About Gracie,
about my mother and father. Everything. It’s what I should have done already.”
“Cash,
please.” She faced him then, her voice cracking as the tears she’d desperately
tried to hold back spilled down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”
“Oh,
baby,” he said, reaching for her again.
She
staggered backwards and stumbled over the step. Her ankle twisted as she tried
to save herself. Cash shot out an arm and pulled her against his chest. This
time, she didn’t have the energy to resist. She slumped against him as he dug
around in his pocket.
He
produced a crumpled tissue and wiped away her tears. “You’re freezing. Let’s go
inside and get you warmed up.”
Before she
could protest, he ushered her through the door and into the tiny hallway. He
walked straight ahead into the kitchen like he owned the damned place and then
flicked the kettle on.
“Go and
get a shower. I’ll have the tea made by the time you get out.”
She wanted
to tell him no, that she could make her own bloody tea, but the words wouldn’t
come. She trudged into the bathroom and locked the door. She wouldn’t put it
past Cash to follow her, and she craved control even as she sensed it slipping
out of reach.
She’d
thought Brighton would be a refuge, a place to heal, but he’d found her so
easily. Once she’d showered and dressed in clean clothes, she would be able to
deal with Cash. She would listen to what he had to say and then politely ask
him to leave.
And then she was going home to London.
ABOUT TRACIE DELANEY
Tracie Delaney is the author of the Winning Ace trilogy. She loves nothing more than immersing herself in a good romance, although she sometimes, rather cheekily, makes her characters wait for their HEA.
When she isn’t writing or sitting around with her head stuck in a book, she can often be found watching The Walking Dead, Game of Thrones or any tennis match involving Roger Federer. Her greatest fear is running out of coffee.
Tracie studied accountancy, gaining her qualification in 2001. Her maths teacher would no doubt be stunned by this revelation considering Tracie could barely add two plus two at high school.
Tracie lives in the North West of England with her amazingly supportive husband. They both share a love of dogs, travel and wine.
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