Read all about it…
Yesterday, I mentioned that 3 WISHES (A SAN VALENTINO FAMILY ROMANCE) was releasing this Friday, 2.14, Valentine’s Day.
Today, I want to give you a little teaser from the story.
“You should be out with some hot guy who’s all into you, at a club, just having the time of your life. Not stuck behind a counter or in a kitchen, slaving away,” Gia said.
I let her drone on because, really, I’d heard this too many times before.
Anyway, there was no hot guy in the background, foreground, or any other ground just dying to take me out on my birthday or any other day. Unlike Gia, who inherited our mother’s genetics: small-boned, blonde-haired and blue-eyed northern Italian features, I’d been blessed with daddy’s Sicilian DNA: average height, black-haired and prone to hairiness (I had to shave my legs every time I showered), with the tendency to run to chubby if I didn’t watch myself, and the already noted one blue eye, one green.
Gia had hot guys beating down my parent’s door to get to her. I did not.
The last guy I’d dated was a setup courtesy of my Aunt Gracie. He’d been a wise guy wannabe with old-world theories on women, namely the barefoot and pregnant kind. He’d picked out the names of our first six children before the tiramisu was served.
The guy before him told me I was married to my career/shop/lifestyle when I wouldn’t devote every minute of spare time I had – which is not a lot – to him.
The one before him liked my candy more than me.
Face it, at just a week shy of thirty, my dreams of happily ever after were starting to dwindle into the cold reality of perpetual singledom.
Later on, in my apartment over my shop, I dragged out the banker’s box again and pawed through the rest of the contents Mama had shoved in there. But I kept coming back to the wish paper I’d written at fifteen.
Funny thing was, I still wanted those three wishes, even now at almost twice the age I’d been when I’d written them. I knew the blue-eye/green-eye thing was probably never going to materialize. I’d grown to be comfortable with my weird-eyed status over the years. It was one of the first things people noticed about me and the comments were usually positive and inquisitive, not hurtful and mean-spirited as they’d been during childhood.
The healer request could actually happen. My shop is in a busy neighborhood surrounded by hospitals, urgent care centers and nursing homes. It wasn’t too out of the ballpark to think I might meet a doctor, or a physical therapist, or anyone connected with the healing arts.
The last wish – the one where the guy fell in love with me in an instant was a total dream, I knew. Stuff like that just doesn’t happen in real life.
Intrigued? I hope so!
Happy reading, kids ~ Peg
