When I was eighteen this cute guy chased me down the street to get my number. He was a waiter at the restaurant where a friend and I had just eaten lunch. He must’ve watched as we walked down the block and went into a local store. At first, when he tapped me on the shoulder, I thought I’d left something behind. He was still wearing his apron and used the pen and pad of paper he took orders on to write out his name and number for me. In the days that followed, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. His crazy, curly hair, the way he bounded back down the street afterwards, as though he was on top of the world.
Two days later we had our first date. We stayed up all night, sitting cross-legged, facing each other, talking about our lives, our dreams, everything. I can’t remember our exact conversation but I do remember feeling like he understood me. And not the me that most people saw, the one I let them see, but the true version of who I really am. Stripped down and honest. We didn’t kiss or even touch one another. We just talked and laughed until the sun came up. When I met another friend for breakfast that morning I told her all about him and by the time I got in the car to drive home, my cheeks were numb from smiling.
One year and two weeks later, we were married. It was a small wedding in my parent’s backyard. We planned it in six days and hand delivered the invitations. I didn’t stress about the time, the flowers, the dress, the food… I just wanted to be married to the man who chased me down the street and swept me off my feet. It’ll be seventeen years this August since he tapped me on the shoulder. We’ve had our ups and downs but we learned, together, how to make things work. He’s the love of my life, my best friend, my ONE and only. I’ve said it before and I think it’s worth repeating: I’m a romance writer, yes, but I’ll never be able to write a love story better than my own.
Thanks for letting me be a part of your one year anniversary, Mayas – I truly appreciate all you do to support authors!
The memory of a stolen kiss ten years ago stirs up an adventure eighty years in the making.
Wynn Jeffries has wanderlust. Unfortunately, her life stalled somewhere between graduating college and slinging drinks at the local dive bar. Stuck in a one-room apartment with no career, no boyfriend, no…life, she dreams of something more. Something amazing. Something like Oliver Reeves, her high school crush, whose back in town and reminding Wynn of the way she used to want things.
When a forgotten news-clipping about two prohibition moonshiners falls out of a book belonging to Wynn’s grandmother, a well-kept family secret is finally revealed. Is Wynn’s gypsy spirit the result of an overactive imagination or did she inherit it from a woman so determined to live a big life she gave up everything to have it?
The choices we make now shape our future. It’s the fear of making the wrong ones that give us doubt. So the question is: how much are we willing to sacrifice to have the life we want?
Three luck comments will win a ecopy of Wynn In Doubt, be answering this one question. What is your dream? It could be job, travel, house, whatever.... Also take part in the rafflecopter and share this post.