This is a first here at Celtic Connexions. I’ve interviewed characters in my books before, but never a dog. So here goes. Welcome, Tori.
*tongue hanging out and tail wagging*, Tori enters the room and plops by my feet, tail thumping on the floor.
Aren’t you just a beautiful girl. So, Tori, what can you tell us about yourself?
Woof… *tail thumping harder against the floor* My humans are Roger and Adam Scott. I’ve lived with them for about three years now.
And how did you come to live with them?
Well, Roger’s wife (Adam’s mum) died. They were both very sad. Roger thought having me might help cheer Adam up. It worked for both of them.
Aw, how sweet. I remember after my dad died, my mum got me a hampster. Not quite the same thing but I know where you’re coming from. But that’s a whole other story. We want to hear about you and your family.
In the summer, my humans take me to the Plains of Abraham. We play ball there. I love playing fetch.
Something happened there, didn’t it, Tori?
Woof… You bet it did. I didn’t know anything about it, but Adam put his dad’s credentials on online dating sites. The one day we were out on the plains, Roger’s phone never stopped ringing. He was so mad. We had to come home early. I wanted to stay and play.
So, what other things have you been up to? Did I hear you were a bad girl and knocked someone down?
*hangs head and looks at me with doleful brown eyes* Yes. We were out on a walk coming home from the Plains of Abraham along Promenade des Gouverneurs which turns into Dufferin Terrace. Anyway, I was off-leash and being a very good girl. Then I saw the lady. She was leaning against the railing. She looked sad. I just wanted to cheer her up. I bolted away from my humans and ran to her. I didn’t mean to hurt her, but I jumped and knocked her down, sending her glasses flying.
Oh dear. I hope she wasn’t hurt. You’re a big girl. I’ve read where female black Labs can weigh up to seventy pounds.
*raises head with a haughty expression on her face* I’ll have you know, I’m a svelte sixty-five pounds.
Sorry. Didn’t mean to insult you.
My humans ensure I eat healthy and get plenty of exercise. We go for walks every day but most times in the winter only go up to Artillery Park. It’s closer to home and I still get to run around and have fun.
What’s next?
I can’t tell you. It would spoil the story.
Ah, quite right. So why don’t we end the interview now and tell the Celtic Connexions folks about It Happened on Dufferin Terrace.
Woof… yes, please.
She’s married to her career… He’s a widowed father…
Miracle on 34th Street meets Sleepless in Seattle in
It Happened on Dufferin Terrace
Toronto business consultant, Serenity Layne, knew the only person she could depend on was herself. Married to her career, she has no time for other pursuits and life’s intangibles.
Widowed for three years, Roger Scott, a data security specialist in Quebec City, is a single parent to his ten-year-old son, Adam.
On a day out on the Plains of Abraham with their black Labrador retriever, Roger’s cell phone rings incessantly. Adam has played matchmaker and put his father’s profile on a number of online dating sites.
The week before Christmas, Serenity is heading up a series of meetings after a six-month study of the Canadian retail chain, jonathans. After an unpleasant encounter with one of the store managers, she escapes from the boardroom of the Château Frontenac Hotel, only to be bowled over by Roger and Adam’s dog.
Guilty over the accident, Roger invites Serenity out for a drink by way of apology. Over the course of the week, and spending time together, feelings long dormant for Roger are re-awakened. At the same time, emotions foreign to Serenity fill her with contentment and happiness.
Will the couple get their happily ever after?
It Happened on Dufferin Terrace is the first book in the It Happened series, a set of sweet, contemporary romances by author, Melanie Robertson-King. If entertaining and heartwarming romances are for you, then you’ll fall in love with this entry in a light, romantic series set in picturesque Canadian locations.
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