Tag Archives: #matchmaker

1 week until MIX and MATCH releases! I’m getting giddy!!!

I’m so excited! MIX AND MATCH has only 7 more days in the waiting room before it releases into the romance reading world!

Have you preordered your copy yet? No? Well, let me help you with that: MIX AND MATCH

And here’s a little tease to whet your reading appetite:

Intrigued? I certainly hope so!!

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#SundaySnippet 2.6.2022

From MIX AND MATCH –

Will their friendship always be relegated to the friend zone?

They arrived at the diner in tandem. Always hearing his mother’s voice in his head, he held the door for her, then guided her to a booth along the back wall.

“Well, now, there’s two people I haven’t seen in a month of Sundays,” Ruthie Tewksberry, the owner, said when she spotted them. “I’ll be right over, kids.”

Jasmine slid into the booth, Donovan opposite her. Before they could settle, Ruthie made a beeline for them, two coffee mugs clasped in one had, a pot of coffee in the other.

Before he could even protest, she glanced down at him and said, “Don’t worry, I brought you a teabag and the water’s coming up.” She plopped the bag down next to him.

“Ah, Ruthie, darlin’, when are you gonna say yes and marry me?”

“When I get in a time machine and go back thirty years,” she quipped, making him laugh. “Don’t mind being called a cougar but I sure ain’t robbing any cradles. Jazz, how’s your mother doing?”

“Good. Working. What else?” She shrugged.

“Woman has more ambition than anyone I’ve ever seen.” She shook her head as she filled one of the mugs and placed it in front of Jasmine. “So, you two want to hear the specials, or do you know what you want already?”

Jasmine ordered her craving grilled cheese, while he went with a simple chicken burger.”

“Give me ten and I’ll have everything on the table. Here’s your water, Van.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “You’re a living saint among us mortals, Ruthie darlin’.”

“Oh, you.” A flush ran up her cheeks as she swiped a hand in the air at him, a huge grin on her face.

“I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen her blush before,” Jasmine told him once the woman had gone to place their order. “Do you do that intentionally or does it just come naturally to you?”

“Do what?”

“You know.” She waved a hand at him. “All that charming, flirting, full-on-accent stuff. Darlin’ this and love that.“

His grin started slowly at her attempt to mimic his accent. It was actually pretty good, he thought. Then it spread when the import of her words filtered through. “Ya think I’m charmin’, do ya?”

She tossed him an eye roll that should have looked comical but on her was as sexy as hell. “I said what you did was charming, not that you are.”

“Ah, Jasmine my love, you wound me to the quick, you do.” He made a show of placing both hands over his heart and attempting a pout. His reward for the ridiculous theatrics was her laugh, which came quick, free, and naturally.

“Now there’s a lovely sound,” he said gazing at her face.

She shook her head. Still smiling, she told him, “I truly don’t think you can help yourself.”

He shrugged. “It’s not a question of helping m’self or not. It’s just as easy to pay a compliment or give a kind word as it is an unkind one. And it makes me feel good to know I’ve been able to put a smile on someone’s face from something I’ve said.”

He couldn’t decipher the expression on hers as she regarded him across the table. Before he could ask about it she said, “Did Olivia call you after”—she lowered her voice—“our date?”

“Aye, she did. First thing the next morning. Did she call you?”

“No, which is weird. She usually checks in right away.” Her brows knit together. “What did you tell her?”

He was prevented from answering right away as Ruthie delivered their food.

“You need anything else, give a holler,” she told them.

Once they were alone again he said, “The truth. The evening was pleasant, you were a lovely woman and I enjoyed getting to know you a bit, but you didn’t think we were well matched.”

“You agreed,” she said, a tad defensively.

He took a bite of his sandwich. He hadn’t. Not really. And he hadn’t related everything Olivia and he discussed. He didn’t share, for instance, the matchmaker had said to go slowly with Jasmine. The fact she wanted to be friends was encouraging because it was the first time she’d ever said that about one of the men she’d been introduced to.

“Because you were so adamant about it,” he said.

Now Jasmine pulled a pout and hers wasn’t meant to make him laugh.

“What did she say after you told her I didn’t think we were,” she lifted her hand, “suited?”

“That she had a few more women who looked promising—her word—that she’d introduce me to.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” She sat back in the booth. “Well…okay.”

He wasn’t sure but she seemed…put off by that.

Promising.

“No more talk of that now,” he said. She visibly relaxed at his words. “Tell me what you’re thinking I should be bidding on the house.”

Preorder here: Mix & Match

Watch the book trailer here: Mix & Match

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#SundaySnippet 1.9.2022

from the upcoming MIX & MATCH 3.1.2022

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09P48WPZC

The Friday night social scene in Heaven N.H. wasn’t the eclectic, happening, busy one she’d grown used to while living in Manhattan. She and her ex had routinely made Friday a date night when his work schedule allowed and they’d attended many a packed jazz bar or bistro over the years. Mood lighting, expensive décor and a drink menu that boasted thousand dollar bottles of wine and champagne had been the norm, along with cocktails going for upwards of twenty-five dollars a glass.

The Love Shack, Heaven’s own answer to the bar scene, was a wooden, rustic, brightly lit establishment with butcher block tables covered in gingham tablecloths and where the most expensive bottle of wine topped out at sixteen dollars. The costliest cocktail served was a four dollar cranberry Cosmo that was heavy on the Ocean Spray and light on the vodka and Cointreau.

Jasmine scanned the bar where Olivia told her her date would be waiting. There were three men scattered down along the rail. Two she recognized from high school and one guy whose face she couldn’t see because his back was to her. When he turned she realized immediately this was not the man she was due to have drinks with.First there was no way this guy was 36 years old. Her mother would have called him Gramps.Clue number two was the wedding band on the hand holding his beer. It was so tight, the skin surrounding it swollen, his knuckle hair squeezed around it, indicating it had been there for decades.Nope. This wasn’t her guy. A cursory glance around the place showed most of the tables were taken with couples.Her date had yet to arrive.

“Hey, Jazz,” the bartender and owner, Kick Loomis said from his perch drying beer glasses behind the bar.

“Kick.”

“You squattin’ or sittin’, sweetheart?”She’d been in the place enough times in her life to know he meant was she going to sit at the bar or take a table.

Jasmine was self-conscious enough she didn’t want to be seated on a bar stool, sitting alone while waiting for her date, especially when one of the guys she’d gone to school with tossed her an inquiring eye and a raised eyebrow. She didn’t want to get into a how-you-doing-what-you-been-up-to-since-high school chat. If her memory served, and it always did, the guy had been one of the football heroes of Heaven High back in the day. Those glory days were long gone and she had no desire to listen to him dredge them up.

She spotted an empty table in the corner and nodded toward it.

“I’ll send Raylynn over with a menu.”

She nodded and as she was about to head for it felt a tap on her arm.

“Excuse me. Jasmine?”

She turned at the sound of her name, spoken in a deep, soft voice blessed with a charming accent and found herself face to face with the gorgeous guy she’d spotted in her mom’s office. The one Sharmaine had been sucked on to like a tick

.Good Lord, he was even better looking up close and personal than he’d been, seated, and ten feet away from her. Stunning blue eyes, the color of freshly laid Robin’s eggs topped a face with high cut cheeks and a jaw forged from granite. Midnight hair curled around his ears and caressed the nape of his neck. Layered waves fell across his head in a chaos of perfection.

She’d been right about his height. Most men she could stare straight in the eyes due to her own long legs. But she had to tilt her head back a bit to look into this man’s striking ones.“You are Jasmine, aye?” Even his voice was gorgeous, the song of Ireland singing through it.

She nodded, her own voice deciding now would be a good time to leave on vacation. And when his smile took a slow stroll from one corner of his full, thick lips to the other, showing perfect, straight white teeth, the tips of her fingertips began to tingle like she’d fallen asleep on them and spent the night with them cuddled beneath the weight of her body.

He-of-the-handsome-face stuck out his hand and declared, “Good. Olivia said to meet you here. Donovan Boyd, but everyone calls me Van. Lovely to meet you.”

Jasmine knew she should shake his hand. It was the polite thing to do, wasn’t it? For some reason, her brain wasn’t sending any signals down her arm to lift it up to his outstretched one.

Donovan, or Van, kept his hand out, his smile in place, and ticked his head to the left a hair. A clap of booming laughter rang out from somewhere behind her and finally propelled the gears in her brain to start turning again.

After a head shake where she actually heard her brains rattle, she extended her hand and slipped it into his.

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