Welcome to March. As I watch the snowfall outside my window, I keep thinking someone needs to buy Mother Nature a new calendar.This morning, I’ve decided to share something from one of the two manuscripts I’m currently working on. This one is a romantic comedy called Wedding Bell Blues
Here is the working blurb:
Desperate times call for drastic measures.
After finding her fiancé with a co-worker, MJ Summers broke off her engagement, much to her mother’s dismay. Determined to take control of her life, she finds a job in a new city, only to discover the man who stomped on her heart fifteen years ago purchased the house she wanted. Fed up with losing things to others, she’s determined not to give up is her shot at finding the infamous pirate Jean Lacorneille’s treasure.
Paul Davis survived his last tour of duty, but not without damage to his soul. All he wants is some fun in the sun before he tries to recapture the good times of his past. Finding the perfect house is the first step. What he doesn’t expect is to steal it from his best friend’s sister, but MJ isn’t a kid anymore, and the way he feels about her is anything but brotherly.
When MJ ends up stranded at a honeymoon resort because her ex-fiancé, Paul’s old nemesis, has played one more dirty trick, Paul feels compelled to help her out and get even with the high school bully. But keeping his hands off MJ, his pretend fiancée, is going to be a lot harder than he imagines. The local Quimbois priestess claims he’ll find his heart’s desire on Paradise Island—Will that be revenge, the pirate’s treasure, or MJ’s heart?
“Have you got any idea what it’s been like at home since I broke off the engagement?”
“I know your mother was upset—wouldn’t have been I’m sure if you’d told her the truth—but it can’t be that bad.”
MJ snorted and shook her head, loosening the band holding her hair off her face. “You have no idea. For the past ten years, she’s been on my case about finding a husband and settling down. I think that’s why she was ready to accept Mark, warts and all. She had her tea leaves read last fall at the psychic fair, and the seer, who’s probably as big a fraud as they come, told her there would be a family wedding this year.”
“You’re too skeptical, but maybe the fortune teller means one of your cousins. It would still be family.”
“I should get so lucky. No, Mama’s convinced I’m the bride-to-be, and she’s determined, come hell or high water, there will be a wedding this year. She keeps reminding me of my age and bemoaning the fact I haven’t given her grandchildren. I pointed out I didn’t need a husband to do that, and she almost had a coronary, calling down the wrath of every saint she could name on me if I even considered the possibility of, as she put it, ‘getting pregnant with a turkey baster.’ I didn’t bring up the fact I could do it the old-fashioned way.”
“That would’ve pushed her over the edge for sure,” Carla said and chuckled. “Your mom is as old-school as they get. How many novenas has she done?”
“One a month since I kyboshed the wedding. Now that she’s finally accepted Mark won’t be her new son-in-law, she feels it’s her duty to help Saint Priscilla by finding a replacement.”
“Who the hell is Saint Priscilla? The only Priscilla I know married Elvis Presley.”
“Apparently, she’s the patron saint of good marriages,” MJ answered, shaking her head. “Obviously, she didn’t help Priscilla and Elvis.”
“So you’re mother’s taken up matchmaking?” Carla said and guffawed, bringing everyone’s attention back to them. “Maybe she’ll find you a rich one…”
MJ threw up her hands in exasperation. “Give me a break! Money’s never mattered to me, and you know it.”
“Say what you will, it’s better to be rich and miserable than poor and miserable, and you know it.”
“Assuming you want to spend your life in misery, which I don’t. Do you have any idea how many lonely, eligible bachelors there are in this area, all of them related in some way to someone she knows? The last thing I need right now is for her and her friends to keep trying to fix me up with every loser—rich or poor—within a hundred miles. You should’ve seen the guy she had over for dinner on Sunday—he was a cross between Peewee Herman and my Uncle Max, with the attention span of a gnat. Apparently, he owns a delivery service, which somehow makes up for his many flaws. I love my mother dearly, but this is my life, not hers. I won’t settle for second best, Carla. I can’t.”
So, what do you think? Would you want to read more? Let me know.
Now, please take the time to visit the rest of this week’s teasers.