Blurb:
Monica has the ability
to see a guy’s aura
light up the first time he touches his soul mate, but she’s kept it a secret
since her parents shamed her as a child. Still, she decides to start her own
matchmaking company—even if she doesn’t advertise her unique ability. Business
is so-so until she gets a call to find matches for the singles of the small
town of Perry Grove. She’s not looking for love herself but has an immediate
attraction to one of her clients. Too bad another woman lit up his aura.
Hunky dairy farmer Jeremiah wants
nothing to do with his grandpa’s
hare-brained matchmaking scheme but agrees to play along to appease the man who
raised him. But when he meets the sexy
matchmaker, he starts to rethink his single status. Too bad she’s intent on
pairing him up with another woman. If there’s one thing he knows, though, it’s
how to be stubborn.
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Excerpt:
Monica Morgan slammed the door of
her red Camry and kicked the offending tire for good measure. “Ow.
Darn it!” Her sensible black flats were no match for the doughnut wheel. Smooth
move, Sherlock. Get your head in the game. You need this job or your business
is toast.
She took a moment for one deep
breath then hurried to the entrance of the Perry Grove United Methodist Church.
Before she reached the double door, it swung open and Ed Thompson greeted her
with a kind smile. His white hair was a bit shaggier around the edges than when
they’d met in person seven weeks ago. She’d spent that afternoon in
Perry Grove meeting with only the town council, as she had a strict rule that
she couldn’t come into contact with any potential bachelors or bachelorettes in
public.
That edict had raised a few
eyebrows, but in the end she had sold them on her “process”
with no mention of the true reason for the rules. No one needed to know she saw
a guy’s aura light up the first time he made physical contact with his soul
mate. In a public setting, even one as small as Perry Grove, she ran the risk
that more than one woman or man could brush against a man at the same time and
mess up Monica’s aura-reading mojo. So she insisted on one-on-one intake
interviews with each client early on. Then she oversaw each potential couple’s
first contact with no other parties in the room under the guise of wanting to
see their first impressions of each other in a closed environment.
Now that she was here for her
extended stay, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson would be her hosts for the next month.
Mr. Thompson held the door for her. “Glad
to see you made it in one piece. Lucky you were close enough you could make it
on a doughnut, but now that you’re here, Sherman’ll get it fixed right up for
you. He already ordered the tire. It’ll be in tomorrow.”
Pasting on her best professional
smile, she headed down the walkway, hoping he hadn’t
witnessed her meltdown. “Glad to be here and to see you again, Mr. Thompson.”
The crinkle around his
cornflower-blue eyes deepened with his smile. “At your service. And I
told you before to call me Ed. Now let’s get you settled. We have the
bachelorettes from the dating pool in the fellowship hall downstairs and the
bachelor in an adjacent room, as you requested. Pat Staley—she’s the church
secretary in case you don’t remember her—called all the men for today to let
them know the appointments have been pushed back a few hours.”
She did remember meeting Pat
briefly, as she had made a point of recording everyone’s
name, occupation, and relationships in the town. “Thank you for taking care of that,
Mr. Thompson. I apologize again—”
He waved a dismissive hand as they
reached the stairs. “Ed. And there’s nothing you can do about a
flat tire except deal with it.”
She rolled her shoulders to ease
some of her tension. She hated being late. “So your grandson is
still up first, correct?” An involuntary shiver echoed through her just
thinking about her first client’s dimpled smile and the striking blue eyes that
stared at her from the photo she’d received along with his profile
information—and how inappropriate that thought was. No dating clients.
“Don’t
look so glum, girl. No one blames you for being late. Although, I should warn
you that Jeremiah isn’t too excited to use your services. I have to admit I
strong-armed him a bit, and he’s been stuck in the Sunday school room for a few
hours. I was afraid if I let him leave, I’d never get him back, if you know
what I mean.” He laughed and winked conspiratorially.
Well, that explained why he was one
of the few clients for this job who hadn’t made the time to come
meet with her at her office in Grand Rapids. This day just kept getting better
and better. She focused on the steps. Grace wasn’t her strong suit, which was
the main reason she wore flats for business and not heels. Not that she hadn’t
tripped in flats before.
Mr. Thompson paused at the door to
the fellowship hall. “Now, I don’t mean to scare you. He’ll
behave himself. My wife and I are getting older, and we just want to see him
settled and happy.”
Looking into his kind eyes, it was
obvious how much he loved his grandson. The desire to help people find their
happily ever after was why she was here—well, that and the money. With that
pragmatic thought, her eyes lost their momentary mistiness. “I
best get started. Point me in the right direction.”
He opened the door and ushered her
in. She smiled politely at the single women and returned the wave from Edna
Murray and Bea Walters, who were manning the refreshment station. She’d
met the two older women during her planning session with the town council. Edna
and her husband Gary owned the hardware store in town. Bea was a retired
schoolteacher who’d appointed herself the town social coordinator and was
Monica’s main contact for the biweekly social dances scheduled throughout her
stay.
Ed also waved to Edna and Bea, then
pointed to his right. “Down that hall. First door on the right.”
“Thank
you.” She put on her practiced confident smile as she set off down the hall,
her shoes making a quiet susurration on the threadbare, brownish carpeting.
This was by far the most complex job she’d undertaken in the eight months she’d
been in the matchmaking business, and she didn’t want to disappoint Ed or the
other town council members. Everyone was so excited and hopeful that she’d find
matches for their singles before any more of the younger generation gave up and
moved away.
At the door, she paused and took a
deep breath. She disliked the unknown of the meeting-the-client part of her
job. Some had unrealistic expectations; others had no idea what they wanted.
Some treated her like a therapist, and still others were just plain whacked.
She’d yet to meet someone who had been coerced into the process as
Jeremiah had. This was going to be fun.
Yeah,
right.
She put her hand on the doorknob but
paused again when she heard the murmuring of voices. Jeremiah should be alone,
so she wondered if he was talking to himself. In different voices? Maybe he
would fall into the whacked category after all. Or…
She flung the door open to see him
seated on a table next to a buxom blonde with ridiculously high heels and an
equally ridiculous low-cut top. Monica’s ire flared. “You
didn’t follow instructions. I was clear that each client could not meet his or
her potential dates until I was present.”
He didn’t
flinch. Not a hint of remorse on his handsome face. “Monica, I presume? You
were supposed to be here hours ago.”
About
the Author
I like books that are
funny and fun to read, but also make me think or look at the world in a new
way. These days you’ll
find me living my happily ever after in the Midwestern U.S. with my husband,
dog and cats. I love to hear from readers, so please come find me on the
Internet.
●
Website: http://katyaarmock.com/
Thanks for hosting me!
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