For The Love of Tarquin: A Woodbeach Romance, #3

By Tilly Muir

Follow Alison & Calvin as they discover that a dog is so much more than just Man's best friend.

Alison Bryant had dreams of becoming a fashion writer for a high class magazine, but instead finds herself writing really bad content for an internet marketing firm. She is living in a small town with very few friends. How did things get this bad and what can she do to get out of this rut, she wants a lot more out of life!

Calvin Hardy works from home spending many hours holed up working on his latest designs. He is not a great socialiser and is very surprised when his long term girlfriend decides to make a dramatic exit from his life!

Alison and Calvin both live in the picturesque coastal town of Woodbeach and meet when Calvin's dog, Tarquin, decides that he would rather live with Alison. Alison takes an instant dislike to Calvin, but perhaps hiding under that cold exterior is a person worth getting to know. .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tilly Muir
• Release date: Jan 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507018262

Tilly Muir

Tilly Muir is a romance writer and avid reader of all types of books, fiction and non-fiction. Her books are short romance stories and always end with a happy ever after… Eventually! When she is not writing you will find her running around after her husband or cocker spaniels.

Book preview

Chapter 1

ALISON BRYANT STORMED into the project manager’s office, her dark black hair fanning out across her face as she flung the door shut behind her.

Are you purposefully trying to drive me insane? she asked, her bright blue eyes flashing in anger as her lips pulled back into a sneer.  She knew that if she could see herself in a mirror right now she would most likely not recognize the face that was looking back at her. It had been at least ten years since she’d been this upset at someone.  And this time her anger was at a critical boiling point.

When she’d graduated college with a writing major, she’d had hopes and dreams of working as a content writer for a fashion magazine.  However, after two years of trying to land a gig that would pay her in something more than experience, she’d been forced to accept a job in the small town of Woodbeach working for an online marketing firm.

Really, what she did was write content spam for websites.  Most of the time it was mind-numbingly boring and tedious, but today her boss had pushed her one step too far. 

I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to. Scott Ramsdell said as he leaned back in his chair and smiled at her, his lip stretched tight over his crooked teeth. 

I’m referring to the fact that you want me to rewrite the content for the motorcycle patches again.  There are only so many descriptive ways I can write about stinking patches that you sew onto your leather jacket.  This is the third time I’ve written it for you and it is apparently still not good enough. She slammed her hand down on the corner of the desk, causing him to flinch a little and his smile to fade. 

Look, Ali, it’s just not what the customer is looking for. His brown eyes got cold, and he moved forward in his chair, the loud squeak from the hinges as he did the only noise in the room for a moment.  You have two choices, you can rewrite it again or you can clear out your cubicle.

This time when he smiled it was an outright leer, and Ali knew that he was getting back at her for shutting him down last month when he’d asked her out.  Of course, she would never be able to prove this, so instead she gritted her teeth together.  Tell me then how they want this article written.  What am I supposed to focus on if not the patches themselves?

The client feels it would be in their best interest to have something that would relate to the company as a whole.

That’s how I wrote the article the first time! she exclaimed, her voice rising with each word.  She still had the article saved on her computer, but the fact that he was switching it back and forth like this was just proof that he was only using it as a way to mess with her. 

I cannot help it if the client changed their mind.  Now, please refrain from causing any more drama or I will be forced to write you up for this outburst.

Go ahead, I’ll just tell HR that you are upset because I didn’t go out with you. She spat back at him.  Forget ten years ago, she didn’t know that she’d ever been this mad at someone.

His face remained calm and collected, and instead of back peddling or reversing his opinion he smiled from the corner of his mouth.  Alison felt her heart sink into her chest as she watched him.  It was obvious that he had done something to ensure that he would be protected if she were to go to HR.  Although her rage and indignation was still boiling inside of her, she backed away from the desk and crossed her arms over her chest.

You know what?  I’d rather not deal with the drama.  You can rewrite that damn thing yourself, Scott.  I quit.

She watched as the sneer faded and the expression on his face was quickly replaced with indignation. Now he began to sputter as he tried to heft himself out of his chair. Instead of waiting for his rebuttal or attempt to stop her, Ali grabbed her bag and marched over to her cubicle.  Since work was not something she enjoyed, she really didn’t have many items decorating her cubicle walls, and she was able to throw what she did have into a nearby empty paper box.

As she did this other people in the office began to peek over their own dingy grey cubicle walls, their eyes watching her with a mixture of envy and fear. Just when she started to turn away, box in hand, Scott burst out of his office, his face flushed red with anger as he sputtered after her.  

If you leave, don’t bother coming back here when you can’t get another job! he yelled after her retreating back. Even though she knew he couldn’t see her, she continued to smile until her lips were so wide that she thought her face might crack open from the pressure.  Each time he yelled something else at her she could feel her smile growing. By the time she got in the elevator she was sure that she probably looked like some deranged clown.

Ten minutes later she was walking home clutching her box of work supplies, and her amusement had significantly faded. When she’d walked out of the office and started to head home, doubts and worries about how she was going to make a living and what she was going to do with the rest of her life had started to plague her.

Just as she was about a block away from her condo, she noticed a little dog running back and forth between the bushes on the side of the road.  It was a funny looking little dog with grey hair and a short stubby tail. 

At first Ali left it alone, figuring that it was probably just someone’s dog that was out in the yard.  A moment later when she stepped off of the curb and started to cross the street she noticed that the dog was following at her heels. 

Shoo, she whispered, moving her ankle in a way that would encourage the doggy to go home.  She did not want to be responsible for taking a dog away from its owners. 

The dog wagged its stubby tail and looked up at her, its dark eyes playful as it bounced around her legs and continued to walk with her.  Alison decided that the best course of action in this situation was probably to just keep walking.  Even though the dog kept pace right beside her, she did not look down to give it encouragement.  She hoped that after a little while it would stop its current course and return to its owners. 

However, two blocks later as she turned up her walkway to her front porch, she could still hear its toenails clicking along the pavement. When she looked down she found that the pooch had stopped and sat itself directly in front of her door. 

Look little guy, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m not really the best person to try and make a new home with. Ali told it, pointing her finger at him