Chapter One
Melinda Rose tossed a quarter into the gleaming-white marble fountain near the porte cochère. I wish to find my soul mate, the man I’m going to marry, in the next year . She’d waited long enough, dated men of all ages and races, but had yet to come across her forever man.
Her friends leaned forward and stared at her, Michelle bobbing her head up and down as if waiting for her to say something.
Tara bumped Melinda’s hip, almost knocking her into Michelle. “So…? What did you wish for?”
“A billion dollars.” No way would she tell them all she wanted was a guy to settle down with. According to her online friends, she reigned as queen of single women, the one who tossed men away like she held her own “guy card” and then wrote books about them the way composers wrote music about their relationships.
She could tell when a man wanted her for nothing but sex. They offered effusive compliments, and sneaked quick peeks at other women in case someone younger or skinnier came along. Often, she didn’t object to a night or two of raw, dirty sex—her stories needed some fresh inspiration—but she grew tired of the game. How long did she have to wait to locate her future husband, her very own hero? At thirty-five, she hadn’t even had a nibble on her line, not a single relationship with any promise. Yet, a couple of her friends already enjoyed life with their second and third husbands. She only asked for one.
“So you can travel the world and sleep with a man from every country?” Amber’s eyes lit up at the thought, the poor thing having lost her husband in a motorcycle accident less than a year before.
Melinda cringed inside. She didn’t want to be the friend her peers lived their fantasies vicariously through. Why couldn’t she unearth a guy to spend the rest of her life with? “Sure. I’ll definitely have to stock up on condoms before I go on that trip.” Though, if her wish came true, she could bring a man, the man , with her. She just had to stumble upon him first.
Sabrina, Tara, Michelle, and Lauren all tossed coins into the fountain. What wishes did they make? As a child, Melinda never would have guessed she’d be sharing her hopes and dreams with readers in stories. If only one of them would come true.
Melinda shrugged off her woes, ready to enjoy her first romance conference of the year. “Okay, are we all ready to check in?” Though, after driving four hours to meet her friends, some she’d never met except online, she yearned for the chance to crash on her bed for a few minutes of rest before the event began.
“Yes! Let’s get this party started!” Sabrina sashayed through the entrance of the hotel as if leading a parade. Thank goodness she’d roomed with Lauren again. Melinda didn’t know if she could handle Sabrina’s excess energy for an entire weekend. Sure, she enjoyed the social aspects of conferences, meeting readers in person as well as other authors she’d connected with online and connecting with new ones, too, but she liked her downtime.
At the check-in desk, Lauren—her ideal roommate and closest friend in the industry—sidled up beside her. “You ready for another?”
Melinda nodded, filled with a sudden excitement. “Always.” She’d met Lauren online through another author five years earlier, and while they lived hours away from each other, Melinda tried to meet up with her at least once a year at a conference.
After presenting her credit card, Melinda received key cards, passed one to Lauren, and headed toward the conference registration table, leaving her friends with their multitude of suitcases behind. She’d left her own in the car until she took care of all the registration details—the advantage of a con so close to home. After returning the valet cart to the lobby, she walked into her room and saw Lauren already rooting through her goodie bag on the other bed. Melinda removed her shoes and hung up her coat in the
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia