Her Book Of Pleasure
"NO WAY. I AM NOT interested." Megan Michiko O'Malley stared at her friend in horror.
"Chicken?"
"I mean it. If you had any kindness in your heart, you wouldn't do that to me."
It wasn't every day Meg saw an elegantly gowned bride cluck and flap her elbows. After one last loud hen imitation, Rey Martinson grinned. "Superstitious, are we?"
"No!" Meg busied herself with shoving the detritus left by the other bridesmaids into one big pile on the vanity table. They could sort out their own lipsticks and eye shadows. "It's only a little bouquet of flowers, not a magic wand to conjure Mr. Perfect."
"There is someone for you, Meg.And he'll probably appear out of thin air when you don't expect him."
Meg rolled her eyes. "It's been so long, I'll probably forget what to do with him."
"Call me if you can't remember." Rey laughed.
"But not tonight. It's my wedding night."
"So I guess we have to get you married first." Meg took a deep breath. She'd just grin and bear it like a good maid of honor. "And then the bouquet toss at the reception."
"Great! Stand in the front row, and I'll throw it straight to you. But watc ... read full excerpt from: Her Book of Pleasure ebook
