Plotting the Story: Samantha March
Every writer will have a different way of plotting their novels. Some craft the characters, the scenes, the turning point, the climax, and the resolution…
Samantha March: Why I Chose Self-Publishing
When I first started getting serious about writing––about three years ago––my first thought was not about self-publishing. I was thinking write a great book, get a fab agent, and then get hooked up with an even better publishing house. Get a big contract, lots of advances, have my books be turned into movies, and not do anything but write books the rest of my life. Sound familiar to anyone else? Then this little thing called a recession hit the US, and things started to change. Agents stopped taking on so many clients, publishing houses stopped taking on so many authors, and little devices called eReaders started popping up. The publishing world was shifting.
What did this mean for authors? Securing an agent (which is never a guarantee to a publishing contract) was already hard enough, but now with tighter budgets and dwindling staff, it was getting harder. Agents and publishers alike were less keen on brand-new authors and genres that they didn’t feel could market as well as others––hello, chick lit. Self-publishing websites such as Lulu and CreateSpace were becoming an enticing option for those who wanted to be published.
Due to my book blog, ChickLitPlus.com, I am often queried from agents and publishers to review their clients work and feature them on CLP. But I noticed a trend that was rapidly becoming the norm back in late 2009 and early 2010––authors promoting their own work. More and more people were choosing to self-publish. Many book bloggers weren’t taking on self-published authors, but I thought, why not? I readily agreed to review their work, and I’m happy to say I found many great authors––and made great friends––with these authors. The more I spoke to them about the novel I was writing and how I was anxious for the agent query process, the more I found out about self-publishing and why these authors chose that route. My eyes were opened to a new world, and I started to wonder which path I would choose––traditional or self-publishing?
The months ticked on, and I was writing every chance I could get. CLP was growing as well, and I was meeting more people, making more connections, and hearing more advice. At long last, in the summer of 2011, Destined to Fail was complete. Now what? I told myself that I needed to try to get published in the traditional sense. I needed to write that query letter, I needed to give it my best shot of securing an agent. So I started working away. But I realized in the middle of writing my query letter and researching agents that my heart just wasn’t into it. I won’t lie––I simply was not into it. Why? Heck, I’ve asked myself the same thing. Who wouldn’t want the security of an agent and a publishing contract? Who wouldn’t want the advances and seeing your book in a bookstore? Why couldn’t I get excited about this?
To be honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever answered that question. But the truth was, I was more interested in self-publishing. That was a fact. I did query a whopping three agents, and received almost an identical response from each one. Promising writing, market is not good for that genre, blah blah blah. I also was told from an editor that agents might not want my story because the characters and situations were too old for YA, but too young for standard women’s fiction. So I had to completely change my characters and the timing of their lives to fit “the norm?” Bull! I happily turned to self-publishing.
Has this road to publishing Destined to Fail on my own been easy? No. Heck, it’s not even complete yet. As I’m writing this, I’m still fighting with my print copy cover. But people who say self-published writers are lazy and taking the easy way out are insane. The hours put into the actual publishing process are gruesome. I kept saying that I thought writing was supposed to be the hard part. That was a breeze compared to all the formatting, designing, uploading, converting, marketing….Self-published authors are doing all of that on their own. There’s no one there to hold their hand, do their marketing, find them an editor, design an eye-catching cover, secure them interviews, etc, etc. Self-publishing is a full-time job, and the risks are there. Maybe your book won’t sell. Maybe you just paid multiple people to help you format, design a cover, do your marketing, and you don’t make that money back. But what isn’t a risk? Will you let your fears constantly hold you back? I didn’t want to. I wanted to take my goals, my dreams, into my own hands. I have an entrepreneurial spirit anyways. I started Chick Lit Plus as a book reviewing site. I now offer editing services, marketing services, and am on the verge of launching two new businesses in early 2012. I went to a business college and learned how to start and run a business. To learn how to market, to advertise. Please know I’m not bashing traditional publishing, or the authors that secure their agents and publishing contracts. That takes a lot of work in its own right. I would never want to take anything away from those talented authors. Nor I am trying to tell you that you must self-publish. Self-publishing is definitely not for everyone. But with the industry changing the way it is, new authors are more easily looked over. I know some fantastic authors that have self-published that I’m utterly clueless as to how they haven’t been snapped up yet. But that’s the way it is. Did I really want to sit around and wait for years and keep hoping to get published? No. Maybe I would have become so frustrated and down on myself that I would have given up on writing completely. Maybe by self-publishing, I am paving my own path to finding an agent and getting that contract. Maybe I will always self-publish. I don’t know. You don’t know. But I do know one thing. I know that self-publishing Destined to Fail was the right choice for me. I’m proud of myself that I let nothing stop me from pursing a goal I set for myself at eleven years old. I’m published.
Guest Post by Michele Gorman
Chick Lit Plus
Why self-publishing in the US
I thought long and hard before deciding to self-publish Single in the City in the US as an eBook. After all, the book was published by Penguin in the UK and many other countries in 2010. Penguin’s team helped make it a best-seller. Surely it’s better to go with a big publisher than to go it alone? If I’m not doing so, does it mean that I’m rejecting the big publishers, as many writers have recently done?
Not really. At least, not all of them. I loved working with Penguin UK. My editor Lydia Newhouse quickly became a friend (still is), listening to my suggestions and making sure the publication went smoothly. The sales team got the book into the major retailers and my PR Helen was superb, getting us widespread publicity.
I’m self-publishing because sometimes publishers have less faith in the books, and the readers, than we, the writers, do.
You see, when Caroline and I sold book rights to Penguin (UK), we held back the US rights. We did this because I wanted a US-based publisher for Single in the City’s American launch. After all the main character, Hannah, is American. There’s a strong theme about seeing London through rather baffled American eyes. Caroline and I thought that surely it was a great fit for the US market.
The US publishers we approached had a different point of view. They were all very nice about it but said that the book isn’t right for the American chick lit market. It’s set in London. Readers won’t identify with it, they concluded.
I disagree. Isn’t it a bit dismissive, and wrong, to suggest that American women can only be interested in books that literally reflect their own lives? If that were true then only mothers of homicidal children would buy We Need To Talk About Kevin, and nobody living outside the 19th Century would bother with Jane Eyre. These books gain wide readership because they deal with universal themes (nature versus nurture, the effects of parenting, family, belonging, love). Single in the City is about taking a chance and establishing a new life. More than 5 million young American women do that every year when they move cities. It’s a fish-out-of-water story. And it’s about finding your feet in life and love. These, too, are universal themes. Those US publishers sold chick lit fans short.
And that’s why I’m self-publishing. I believe it’s the right decision for this book in this market. Like Hannah, I’m taking a leap of faith.
Guest Post by Samantha March: Writing Goals
When I first decided to really buckle down and write a book, I didn’t have any idea what that would entail. I thought I would write a few chapters a day, clean it up/edit a bit, and boom! Published. That’s not really how it worked out for me. About three years ago, I started to get the itch to write. I had told myself that if I went to a “real” college, got a fancy degree, and still wanted to write, I would follow that path. But even before I slipped on my cap and gown and moved the tassel from the left to the right (or is it the right to the left) I had already begun to outline my plot and develop characters. I just couldn’t wait.
My ambition to write a few chapters a day quickly met the real world. Going to school, working three jobs (at a gym, hotel, and hospital) did not add up to chapters being written. I was lucky if I got in two hundred words a day. Some days, I was too exhausted to even look at a computer screen. And did I mention I didn’t own a computer as this time––I was using the computer lab at my school to get my writing done, and saving my work to flash drives. So that only added to the challenge. A year went by––a whole 365 days––and my book was just over halfway written. Something needed to change.
It took me some time, but I was able to figure out little plans and deadlines to help keep me on track. I realized that I write effectively in the morning as opposed to the afternoon or night (shocking, since I hate mornings). So I carved out pieces of time each morning to write. I didn’t give myself an impossible goal, I just told myself to write from 6:30-8:00 each morning. Nothing spectacular, nothing huge. But with that little goal, I found myself writing each morning, cracking my knuckles first thing and excited to dive back in. This plan has been working for me ever since. Sometimes, I add some new goals in here and there. Finish chapter 9 by Friday. Introduce Emily’s character by Wednesday. Finish all revisions by December 7. This bigger goals help keep me on track and help me maintain a look at the bigger picture. I’ll give an example of some deadlines I have imposed on myself for book number two:
November:
Monday-Friday: write 7:30-10:30
Introduce Henry/Kevin conflict by November 3
Figure out Carmen’s big secret by November 7
Finish Chapter 15 by November 15
*If you’re wondering what “figure out Carmen’s big secret” means, it literally means figure out what Carmen, one of my supporting characters, is hiding. I still haven’t figured this out. I hope she tells me soon.*
You may also be wondering why I only write three hours a day. It’s all I can do. Really. I work full-time, I run ChickLitPlus, CLP Blog Tours, freelance editing services, and have two more websites/businesses underway for launches next year. Oh, yes––and I also just published Destined to Fail and am feverishly trying to do my own marketing. Then I have a life on top of that. Sometimes. So, three hours is the best I can do. But, when you really put your mind to something and work hard, it doesn’t seem that bad. It isn’t unusual for me to write 3,000 words a day, which I think is great. I am hoping to have book #2 out by late spring of next year. Now that I have been through the process and know what works for me, the second time around has already been much easier.
My advice is to create your own goals. Keep in mind that you might have to tweak them along the way. Maybe you realize you write better at night. Switch it. Maybe you realize you work better by giving yourself word count goals. Shoot for what is feasible to you. Don’t make your goals based on someone else’s. We all lead different lives, have different jobs and families and responsibilities, so none of our goals and deadlines should look the same. But keep yourself motivated, and keep writing!
Guest Post by Bethany Ramos
3 Ways to Increase Your Odds of Getting Published
Every aspiring writer is dying to get published. But not every writer will be published. So what separates a published writer from a non-published writer?
The good news is that getting published can be simple if your work is polished, ready to submit, and what agents or publishers are looking for.
The world of publishing can seem daunting and overwhelming at first. But if you check out the following tips, it may shed some light on what it takes to get published successfully. At the very least, you can prevent wasted time from barking up the wrong tree, not to mention the heartache caused by rejection after rejection after rejection. We’ve all been there…
1. Don’t give up! This one may seem like a no-brainer, but you have to try and try again. And try again. And try again if you want any chance of getting published. When I sent out both of my manuscripts for my chick lit book and my children’s book, I literally e-mailed more than five hundred agents and publishing houses each.
That is over one thousand e-mails in total! You need to be seriously committed to sending out your work for representation. And as it always is in life, just when you start to give up hope, you’ll probably hear back from agent or publishing house with some good news. Don’t give up just yet.
2. Personalize your query letter. Of course, I didn’t write a thousand individual query letters because that just doesn’t make sense. I had a basic query letter that I sent out to agents and publishing houses, but I also did a little bit of homework on agent blogs and websites to see what work they represented.
At the beginning of your query letter, it is best to identify with an agent by mentioning the work that they represent or that you are a fan of one of their authors. I also made sure to personally connect with agents in Colorado since my chick lit book is set in Denver. Do whatever it takes to stand out.
3. Think outside of the box. Both publishing houses that I have worked with so far are small publishers that work one-on-one with writers. This was an excellent way for me to break into the industry.
I did e-mail hundreds of agents and publishing houses and received numerous rejections. I finally broke down and started searching deep in the recesses of Google to find publishing houses that published chick lit and children’s books. It was then and only then did I receive legitimate interest in my work from small publishers that were willing to walk me through the publishing process.
Bottom line? Getting that first publishing contract is one of the most rewarding moments of your life. But it doesn’t come instantly. Be prepared to receive rejection and keep forging ahead. Just at the moment when you think that your manuscript is totally worthless is probably when you will hear something positive back from a literary agent or publishing house!
Bethany Ramos is the author of the chick lit novel 5 Stages of Grief and is under contract to publish her children’s book Lions Can’t Eat Spaghetti. She also reviews chick lit books on her blog ChickLit-Books.com.
Guest Post by Carol Snow
Carol Snow, author of WHAT CAME FIRST, http://www.carolsnow.com
Tips for Writers
She stopped me in the hallway and threw me a perfunctory compliment for a talk about my recent book, which she hadn’t gotten around to reading yet. Then she got down to business.
“I wrote a book, and I need to know how to get it published.”
There’s no rush, I told her: for now, she should spend some time experimenting and focusing on her craft.
She put her hands on her hips. “The book’s ready. I’ve been working on it for four months. I just need to find a publisher.”
Then the bell rang and she picked up her Hello Kitty backpack and headed into her fifth grade classroom.
Most of the people who ask me for tips on fiction writing and publishing are older than this particular girl (and a lot less pushy), but much of the advice I give to beginning writers is the same:
1. Focus on process rather than product. If you keep writing, there is plenty of time to publish later on. To begin with, have some fun with words, characters and stories without worrying about whether or not they are perfect.
2. Write often to develop fluency. Keep a diary, blog, journal . . . whatever works to keep you writing daily (or almost daily). The more you write, the more easily words will flow.
3. Live your life. Get out and do things, learn new skills, explore different places, and meet a variety of people. Take jobs that have nothing to do with writing. It is all material. More importantly, it’s your life; you should live it to the fullest.
4. Read widely. All writers are readers first. If you don’t like to read, then you shouldn’t be a writer. And if you do like to read, try widening your scope to included new genres, which can expose you to new possibilities for your own writing, and daily newspapers, which can spark all kinds of story ideas.
5. Learn to type. The hunt-and-peck method takes too much time and distracts you from your ideas.
6. Experiment with different styles and perspectives. The first time I wrote a story in the first person, it was a revelation: at last I had found my voice. After writing seven books in the first person (the last in three different voices), I’ve switching back to third person for my eighth, now in progress, and am amazed at the ways in which it opens up the story.
7. Find a good teacher. By this I mean someone who balances constructive criticism with constructive praise and who helps you come up with ideas on your own rather than just assigning a bunch of exercises.
8. Become part of a community of writers. Early on (and for some writers, forever), a writing or critique group can help give you the confidence and skills to move forward.
9. Learn to self-edit. While group support can be wonderful, fiction writing is, for most of us, a solitary activity. It’s best to share your writing only after you’ve gone as far as you can on your own.
10. Read Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style. Repeatedly. You can write the most imaginative, perfectly constructed book in the world, but if the writing is murky and the manuscript is littered with grammatical and punctuation errors, no agent or editor will give it more than a cursory glance.
Guest Post by Rebecca Coleman
CONTACT: Meryl L. Moss Media Relations – 203-226-0199
Sarah Hausman/ sarah@mediamuscle.com
Before The Kingdom of Childhood
by Rebecca Coleman, author of THE KINGDOM OF CHILDHOOD
It’s difficult to pinpoint the moment when the story that would become The Kingdom of Childhood first kindled itself in my mind. Perhaps it began at the candlelight carol singing I attended at a Waldorf school when I was 14– the first time I had ever seen such a place– when the sensory beauty of the environment and my great fear of all the fire surrounding me came together in a story about both. Or it might have been on the playground of another Waldorf school 11 years later, as I watched my young son play joyfully with his classmates and realized that his teacher– this embodiment of quiet peace and thoughtful nurturing– had it in for him, because her perceptions of my wonderful son were so much at odds with mine. I lost a little of my idealism then, and even as I continued to love the Waldorf way, I never quite forgave that teacher’s ill judgment of my son.
But these impressions remained rootless until the morning when, as I folded laundry in front of the TV news, I saw an item about a teacher arrested for an affair with a young male student and decided that was a story I wanted to tell. Raise the stakes, goes the sage advice about writing fiction– always make the stakes for your characters as high as they can be. And so it didn’t take long for the notion to strike me that a Waldorf teacher would be the best– or worst– to cast in that role, because there is no other philosophy that places such a high value on the purity, even the sacredness, of childhood. The crime Judy commits in The Kingdom of Childhood is not only taboo; in her community, it’s nothing short of anathema.
What intrigued me in equal measure, though, was what it would be like to be the teenage boy playing opposite such a teacher. I knew what I didn’t want him to be– mature for his age, superficial in his thinking, experienced with girls or squabbling with his parents. All of those things would make his motivations too simple, and the joy of writing teenagers is that they are some of the most complex people in the world: so much bravado and pride, so much desire to be perceived as mature, and yet so thoroughly naive. On the news, we hear the names of the teachers involved in these scandals; we learn about their families, their awards, their reputations. Yet the boys remain a mystery, always. We tend to assume their motives are obvious: driven by their hormones, they are unfettered, willing victims. But when are human beings ever so simple?
Somewhere inside all of that complexity I found the story I wanted to tell: one about the collision of naivete and wisdom, comfort and fear. Life is lived in the contrasts, after all– but the stakes are never higher than when the line between those contrasts draws paper-thin.
Guest Post from Becky Due
Becoming a Writer
I wrote, but I wasn’t serious about writing until the summer of 1995 when I sold my car, quit my job, and jumped on a greyhound bus with no idea where I was going. My life was a mess and I needed to find myself. I got off the bus to discover new places like Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, and Washington, DC, before I ended up in Moorhead City near Atlantic Beach, North Carolina. There I rented a small house (I think it may have been haunted), bought a typewriter and started writing my story, which became my first novel, The Gentlemen’s Club: A Story for All Women.
“No matter where you go, there you are,” kept ringing in my mind. I had heard the saying years earlier but it didn’t make sense until I was alone, sitting in that house, looking for the answers that were hidden deeply inside of me. While writing my book I got honest with myself, and wanted to face my problems the way Angie, my main character, was facing hers. I had to stop running, get strong and stand up for my life. So with the first draft of the manuscript in my hands, I got back on the bus and headed back to Minnesota.
Once back in Rochester, Minnesota, I returned to my old job at Dison’s Drycleaners. I rented a hotel room; I had to pay rent by the week and had to share the shower with others, but at least I had my own toilet and sink. I liked it. The place was perfect for a writer—old, rundown, lots of character and lots of characters living there; I was one of them. With my feet planted firmly on the ground, I focused on work and my writing.
My writing was giving me purpose and a deeper understanding about life. Feeling confident that I wouldn’t run from my life anymore, and being tired of paying for phone calls and eating out for most of my meals, I decided it was time to find a place to live and sign a year’s lease like normal people. I rented an apartment in an old building—another great writing place. I lived above a variety of always failing businesses—furniture store, hobby shop, record store—and the people in the store below controlled the thermostat for my apartment. When the store was empty, I had no heat. So during the winter, I’d pull a folding chair in front of the open oven door, sit down and write for hours.
Around that time, my mother was cleaning closets in her house and wanted to get rid of a lot of old school art projects, report cards and other keepsakes from my younger years. She packaged it all up and mailed it to me. As I sifted through the box, throwing most of it away, I came across an old test comparing students in the same class throughout the state. As I looked down the column of my x’s, it was clear I was average in everything. But I noticed one x that was further to the right, meaning above average. I curiously followed the x to see what it represented—written expression. I started crying and knew this was a sign that I was on the right path.
Never having had a father, I was taken in by a man who owned a small publishing company. Ray offered to help me but refused to publish my books, claiming I needed a bigger publisher. I took the bus or walked to his place almost every day after work all year long. I didn’t have a car, a warm coat or winter boots, but I’d trudge my way through the Minnesota seasons to his place to use his computer and to get his guidance. Ray disciplined me, motivated me, inspired me and encouraged me to be great, just the way I envisioned a real father would.
At night I’d leave his place and walk two blocks to catch the bus back to my cold apartment. If I was early, I’d step inside the gas station and grab a vanilla coffee from the machine before getting on the bus. Then high on caffeine, I’d write into the early morning hours.
I was writing constantly but publishing nothing, so Ray helped me send out about fifty query letters. Eight agents were interested in The Gentlemen’s Club until they read the manuscript. I was told that the story was good, but the manuscript needed some work. I couldn’t afford a professional editor, so my written books were put on hold and I continued writing.
In spite of this, my many rejection letters gave me a sense of accomplishment—at least I had tried. Every small step I took in my writing career was a step in the right direction, and one step closer to achieving my goals. So for two years, I lived a disciplined life of work, writing and living below my means. I went back to school and I started volunteering with Victim Services. I wanted to do better, and I wanted to be better.
When the hard work paid off and I had money in savings, I started looking for an editor and investigated independent publishing, which is basically starting your own publishing company. You put up all the money, do all the marketing, promotion, etc., and hope your book sells. The idea was exciting: Instead of going back through the long route of looking for an agent to look for a publisher, I started Due Publications, found amazing people to help me and the rest is history. I published The Gentlemen’s Club, Blue the Bird On Flying, Touchable Love, Returning Injury, The Dumpster and I’m working on my sixth book, and all of my books have either won or been finalists in several national independent competitions. I’ve made many mistakes; I’m still making them, but I love my career.
Guest Post by Cate Lord
Writing First Person: This Chick’s Challenge
When I started writing Lucky Girl, my sassy contemporary romantic comedy released this month by Entangled Publishing, I stepped onto a new sidewalk of my writing journey—while wearing strappy, three-inch heels, no less. Yeah, it was a little tricky for this Florida gal who wears flat sandals for ninety-nine percent of the year.
My previous six novels, medieval historical romances published in mass market paperback, were written in third person. This meant I got inside the heads of my heroines and heroes, divulged all of their ambitions, motivations, and torments through their introspection, and thereby told the story from both points of view.
While I could have done the same for Lucky Girl, I adore the intimate style of Chick Lit style novels. The first-person viewpoint lets the reader get super close to the main character; she becomes like a BFF. I wanted that for Jessica Devlin’s book. So, I challenged myself to write the whole novel from her perspective. That was way out of my comfort zone, but I was going to learn. I could succeed in the writing challenge I’d set myself; I could learn to walk like a runway model in those pretty three-inch heels. Yes, I could, and I would.
In Lucky Girl, Jess, the rather plan Jane but hardworking beauty editor of Orlando’s O Tart magazine, flies to England to be maid-of-honor in her cousin’s wedding. There, Jess runs into marketing exec Nick Mondinello, a gorgeous Brit she met briefly in an embarrassing incident two years ago, and whom she never expected to see again. She’s convinced Nick is completely wrong for her. She does her best to fight her growing attraction to him, but fate has its own plans for them.
When I began crafting the book, I soon realized that writing only in first person had some limitations. Everything the reader learns about the story—sights, sounds, tastes, textures, and smells—is filtered through Jess. Readers like to know early on what characters look like, but a gal wouldn’t normally describe her physical appearance to a BFF. So, I included a scene where she’s standing in front of mirrors in a dress shop in her hideous, tight, peach-colored maid-of honor gown; she agonizes over the pounds she’s put on since her unfaithful ex fiancé dumped her. This allowed me to work in what she looks like plus some details about her past, as well as show how anxious she is about being in the wedding party. Once she’s at the church in England, right before the ceremony begins, she checks her reflection in the mirror, and I have another chance to describe her hair, figure, and other details, all relayed in her humorous, sarcastic, and self-deprecating way that again helps us better understand and relate to her as a close friend.
Another challenge of first person: developing the romantic relationship which is crucial to the book. It’s easy to show what Jess thinks of Nick (that he’s a hottie even though she’s wary of getting involved with him). It’s not so simple, though, to reveal Nick’s interest in her—because all we know about him is revealed through Jess. What worked, though, was imagining my characters were acting in a movie. What we notice most? Facial expressions: Nick’s sexy raised eyebrows that show his curiosity and that he’s intrigued by something Jess just said; his lop-sided grin that’s pure sexual invitation; his brooding frown that cues us he’s annoyed. Once I got the hang of this, I even had a bit of fun, with Jess misunderstanding what she reads from Nick’s expression. Wicked me, I know.
There were other challenges, too, to writing first person, including making sure all of the secondary characters were well-defined and ensuring I incorporated enough fresh details in the dialogue to move the story forward. Overall, though, I was very pleased with how Lucky Girl turned out. I loved writing about Jess and was sad to type “The End.”
Will I write another novel in first person? As I type this blog post, Jess is nudging me, reminding me that her beautiful English cousins deserve their own books. She’s right; they do. And I’m about ready for a fresh challenge.
An excerpt from Lucky Girl—when Jess sees Nick again after two years:
A boisterous rendition of Bach’s Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring started up inside the church. I glanced in. The pews were almost filled. I recognized Aunt Prim. She was impossible to miss, even from behind, her curly gray hair poking out from beneath her enormous white hat spattered with fuchsia, yellow, and pink flowers.
The groom, Andrew Castleton, a handsome guy with wavy blond hair, stood with his best man near the altar. Andrew clasped and unclasped his hands as if he couldn’t keep them still. Yup, I’d say he was nervous.
Anna and Charlotte moved to my side. When Andrew saw them, relief softened his features. He grinned, and I knew exactly what he was thinking: “Tilly, the woman I love, is here.”
My cousins giggled and nodded.
My attention shifted to the best man. Mmm. Tall, broad-shouldered—
Oh. My. God!
My heart jolted like I’d just stuck my pinkie into an electrical outlet.
Nick Mondinello. The man my cousins had whispered about years ago. Sex God. Playboy. Heartbreaker.
Spy Man.
He still looked like a younger version of Pierce Brosnan, the actor who’d starred in a couple of James Bond movies. Nick wore his dark hair shorter now and spiked with gel. He filled out his tailored gray suit very, very nicely.
Memories whooshed through my mind. The day after Grandpa George’s funeral. The Creaky Wicket Pub. The potted plant. Heat flooded my face, hotter than if I had yanked open an oven set to ‘broil.’
Aaahhh! How could my mind torture me at a time like this?
Nick glanced at me. Vines seemed to have snaked up from the carpet and locked around my ankles. The heels of my sandals felt rooted to the floor. The murmurs and music around me faded into a weird, Twilight-Zone buzz.
Doo-dee-doo-doo, Doo-dee-doo-doo.
I forced my lips into a stiff, polite smile and adjusted my sweaty-handed hold on my bouquet. It would be just my luck to drop the pretty arrangement on the floor and turn it into a mangled hodgepodge.
Nick looked at someone on the other side of the church, and I exhaled noisily.
Then he looked at me again. He squinted, as though he was trying to place me. Maybe he was wondering why I was blushing so fiercely.
Severe sunburn. Hot flushes. Woman’s stuff.
I hadn’t blushed like this on my first date.
I held the roses tighter to my chest. Thank goodness the big bouquet would draw attention away from my boobs.
My face burned. Scorched, more like it. Embarrassing now, but not quite as mortifying as what I’d done two years ago.
Glancing away from Nick, I watched one of the ushers escort Aunt Cleo to a front pew, where she sat beside Aunt Prim.
I felt acutely alert, as if I was a taut spring, about to uncoil with a loud poing like a Jack-In-The-Box.
Was Nick still looking at me?
I struggled to quiet the desperate squeak rising in my throat. Maybe I was worrying for nothing. Maybe Nick didn’t even remember what had happened.
He’d been drinking that night. We all had. Some of us—specifically moi—a lot more than others.
I dared a glance. Nick nodded in response to something Andrew said. A smile curved Nick’s mouth.
Hushed voices along with the whisper of silk came from behind me. Valerie, Tilly, and my uncle had entered the church.
My belly squeezed tight. Any moment now, the ceremony would begin.
Dread shivered through me.
A countdown began ticking in my head.
Ten. . . nine. . .
Oh no. In the recessional, I would have to walk arm in arm with Nick. Help!
Seven. . . six. . .
Butterflies swooped in my stomach. My hands felt coated in olive oil. The ushers led the last of the guests to their pews.
Three. . . two. . .
When the guys returned, the organist paused for a moment then struck up a vibrant march.
The Wedding March.
Ping. The moment of truth was upon me.
I hadn’t prayed in months. But as the ushers began a slow walk up the aisle, I prayed I didn’t trip, stumble, or make a fool of myself.
Not in front of Tilly and my relatives.
Not in front of gorgeous Nick Mondinello.
Again.
Anna, Charlotte, and Valerie lined up ahead of me to begin their graceful stroll up the aisle. As I drew a deep breath, Nick’s gaze locked with mine.
He was still smiling.
In that moment, I knew without the teeniest bit of doubt.
He remembered.
