Praise for Nina Harrington
âI look forward to reading this authorâs next release â¦
and her next ⦠and her next. It truly is a stunning debut, with characters that will remain in your thoughts long after you have closed the book.â âpinkheartsocietyreviews.blogspot.com on Always the Bridesmaid
âRich with emotion,
and pairing two truly special characters, this beautiful story is simply unforgettable. A keeper.â âRT Book Reviews on Hired: Sassy Assistant
âA well-constructed plot and a scrumptious,
larger-than-life hero combined with generous amounts of humour and pathos make for an excellent read.â âRT Book Reviews on Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds
NINA HARRINGTON grew up in rural Northumberland, England, and decided at the age of eleven that she was going to be a librarianâbecause then she could read all of the books in the public library whenever she wanted! Since then she has been a shop assistant, community pharmacist, technical writer, university lecturer, volcano walker and industrial scientist, before taking a career break to realise her dream of being a fiction writer. When she is not creating stories which make her readers smile, her hobbies are cooking, eating, enjoying good wineâand talking, for which she has had specialist training.
Also by Nina Harrington
The Boy is Back in Town
Her Moment in the Spotlight The Last Summer of Being Single Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds Hired: Sassy Assistant Always the Bridesmaid
Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
MAKE your hen party extra special with our Luxury Chocolate Man Parts!
Max Treveleyn stopped in his tracks and stared in astonishment at the espresso and cream-coloured banner splashed across the top of the food stall promoting âTaraâs Tantalising Party Treatsâ.
This was central London, and party catering was big business. But âman partsâ? It was the last thing he had expected to see at a classy organic food festival.
Max peered over the heads of the ladies who were clustered around the stall, jostling for a position in line to try the samples before making their selections. He didnât want to think about what they would do with them when they got homeâbut this stall was certainly doing brisk business for a Monday lunchtime.
He glanced swiftly at the digital clock on the wall above the entrance to the underground station. He had twenty minutes at most to find the art gallery where he had arranged to meet his ex-wife Kate for lunchâbut he could spare a few of those minutes to find out just how far organic chocolate had come since his last visit to London.
It was only as he got closer that Max realised that a short, bubbly blonde girl was running the stall, completely concealed behind the crush of customers who were waving cash and pointing furiously at the trays of remarkably life-size and anatomically correct shapes.
The blonde was wearing a T-shirt with the words âTaraâs Treatsâ across the front. In another place, with a different audience, those words might be misconstruedâespecially since the T-shirt was rather on the small side for a girl with a substantial bosom.
Perhaps this was the famous Tara herself?
The party treats seemed to be going down extremely well, and it took Max a few minutes to shuffle forward and find a gap in the queue. If only the organic chocolate he made was as popular as this he would never have to worry again about the future of his cocoa plantation back in St Lucia. But, then again, perhaps moulded chocolate man parts were not exactly the premium outlet he needed to bring in extra income.
The blonde looked up at him, blinked twice, then grinned. âHello, handsome. Looking for something for your stag party? I have just the thing.â She reached over the counter and pulled out a tray of milk chocolate shapes which literally took Maxâs breath away. âItâs your lucky dayâwe have a special offer on all body parts. How many would you like?â
He coughed politely before shaking his head. âUm ⦠Thank you, but I donât need any milk chocolate toes todayâalthough I am sure they are quite delicious,â he said, when he finally managed to get some air into his lungs. âBut would you mind if I took some photographs of your stall? It certainly is ⦠er ⦠different.â
She glared at him open-mouthed for a second, before throwing her head back and laughing out loud with a laugh that echoed around the London street where the festival was being held. It was the kind of laugh that meant that she had to snort in a breath halfway through.
âDaisy! One of our gentleman browsers wants to photograph your chocs. Are you okay with that?â
Max looked over the blondeâs shoulder towards a tall brunette wearing chefâs trousers and a white jacket, who was rummaging around inside large plastic food boxes. As the brunette flicked a glance towards Max her eyes smiled at the same time as her mouth, crinkling the sides of her cheeks into a rosy glow, so that when she spoke her face was animated and full of laughter and fun.