“Great for a quick uplifting reading experience.”
Love can bloom in infinite ways.
Eleven short romances follow love through cute meets to taking friendship to the next level to rekindling a marriage. Feelings can be sparked by an errant computer file, a hunt for diamonds, or even a fortune teller’s tale. All that is needed is to open one’s heart to let it in.
Search, find, and deepen love along the way in these sweet romances.
Excerpt from “Heart’s Desire” in Virtual Harmony and Other Short, Sweet Romances:
My smile froze when hewalked through the tent opening. To paraphrase Humphrey Bogart, “Of all the autumn carnival booths in all the world, why’d he choose mine?”
Ever since he’d moved into my apartment building six months ago, I’d been trying to move beyond neighborly exchanges like “hello” and “have a nice day.” Now, he was standing in the middle of the tent opening, the scent of popcorn and cotton candy drifting in about him.
I held my breath, following his hesitant stride to the table between us. My gaze traveled to his face, and he smiled awkwardly before asking, “How many?”
I mentally banged my forehead. The grunt was hardly the great conversation starter I desired.
He held up a short string of red carnival coupons. “How many tickets?”
As if on automatic pilot, I slipped into the script I’d been using all morning with my best effort at a Hungarian accent. “Cross my palm with two tickets, and I will tell you what the future holds.”
He dropped them into the coffee can on the side of the black-velvet draped table. Continuing my routine, I held out my hand, silver rings glinting from each finger. “Your palm, please.”
He sat in the folding chair in front of the table and placed his upturned hand in mine. Its warmth stole up my arm, and I coughed to mask the sharp breath I drew in in response.
He gave a short cough also. “I’ve never done this before. What do I do now?”
I looked into his deep-blue eyes, wide beneath the dark curls framing his face. They held no hint of recognition. My gypsy costume’s colorful scarves and bold skirt bore no resemblance to the business suits he saw me wearing in the apartment hallway.
When I’d agreed to work the fortune teller’s booth, Debbie, one of the fair’s coordinators, had said, “Have fun. Everyone knows you’re not a real fortune teller, so just tell them something happy about their future.”