Sneak Peek—New Hockey Romance Series
Clearing the Ice: Book1—
This Piece of My Heart
Coming May, 2016

Meet the Players

Caryn Stevens:

Destiny. What a ridiculous nineteenth century word! Like anyone buys into that concept these days. Of course, if you’re Prince William, you know your destiny is to become King of England some day. Who else really talks about destiny? No one. Except my parents. They decided my destiny the day I was born.

Did they ever ask if I wanted to follow my dad as CEO for his multinational gazillion dollar company? Of course not. For as long as I can remember, everything I did had a purpose…to prepare me for my destiny. The schools I attended, the courses I took, the friends they selected from their circle of friends. At first I didn’t know any better. As if play dates when you’re five-years-old have any lasting impact on your future. Whatever—I never knew anything different. As I grew older and started to make my own friends, my parents had to meet and approve their parents before we were allowed to visit each other’s homes, go to birthday parties—or maybe once in a while enjoy a girlie, giggly, bouncing-on-the-beds slumber party with a bunch of ten-year-olds.

High school? While most of my friends learned to drive, enjoyed school events, and began dating, I had no time for such frivolous fun. Besides the full-load of honors courses at school, private tutors waited at home every day after school to teach such enthralling topics as organizational theory, management styles, and how to read a balance sheet. At seventeen, can you imagine the excitement and anticipation? Uh, no, I couldn’t either. 

Of course, I didn’t meekly follow The Plan, as I’d tagged it. I skipped classes, flirted with cute guys, and even set up a secret Facebook page. It was only a matter of time before I got busted, but immediately began scheming new ways to get around the rules. Just like any normal teen. But, you know, I never could figure out how to escape my destiny.

I refused to consider any of the Ivy League colleges in the US that my dad expected me to attend. I threatened to sabotage those all-important entrance tests unless I could choose the university where I’d study everything outlined in The Plan. Escaping the shadow of The Company and my parents’ constant control mattered more than fighting the battle over what to study. So we compromised and I left Ottawa for the excitement promised by a large university in Toronto, where no one knew I was Bill Stevens’ daughter…or my destiny.

Even though the rigorous academic schedule left little time for myself, I relished the freedom to go where I wanted, when I wanted—so long as I maintained the expected GPA dictated by The Plan. Freedom is so exhilarating, and I dread returning to Ottawa at Christmas Break or during the summer for another internship at The Company.

Sneak Peek This Piece of My Heart giftfromgodShortly after my twentieth birthday, I devised a scheme to stay in Toronto for the summer. See, there were a couple of courses I just had to take and hadn’t had the opportunity to schedule. Selling the idea turned out to be easier than I thought. Probably because Mom and Dad are spending the summer visiting some of The Company’s Southeast Asian assets. So, after nineteen years conscientiously pursuing my destiny, I’m planning my own Summer of Fun. Time to do something spontaneous. To enjoy the perks of summer in Toronto. To actually get my head out of the books and maybe, just maybe find someone to make the summer—dare I say it?exciting.

Did I mention there’s this hunk of a guy I’ve noticed on campus the first few weeks of summer? He’s always running—maybe in training?—but, I’ve seen enough to get this girl’s heart pounding. Tall, well-built, with shaggy light-brown hair. Gym shorts that emphasize taut leg muscles. Sometimes wearing a t-shirt with cut-off sleeves. Bronzed muscular biceps—truly drool-worthy. Absolutely hot—and gorgeous in a totally guy type of way.

Of course, he has no clue I exist.

Next Sneak Peek: Meet Andrew


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Coming May 5: This Piece of My Heart by Robyn M. Ryan. © 2016

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