How I Met My Husband: The Real-Life Love Stories of 25 Romance Authors Read online

  My interest was immediately piqued, but not by his football-player build or boyish face. “I have a Sunbird with a bad oil leak,” I said. “Do you work out of your home?” At the time, I was just out of college, an entry-level graphic designer who could pay my bills but not much else, especially dealership rates for car repairs.

  He did, and seemed like a nice guy, so I got his number. I didn’t call until a month later, when I’d saved up some money, and for a second, he didn’t remember me. But then he did, and I made arrangements to bring the car over.

  Another girl friend followed me to his house, and we met him in his front yard with his mom, and his Rottweiler, Warrior. I was immediately impressed—Warrior was the first big dog I’d ever met that didn’t jump on me—something I tend to avoid, as being five-foot-zero, they’re almost as big as me.

  We chatted about the car, and noting jumped out at me that he might be a con man or a creep, and he knew what he was doing, so I left the car. Having his mom there—one of the sweetest, kindest people I’ve ever met—probably helped too. As we drove away, my friend noted, “You know, Jennette, he’s kinda cute.”

  I was surprised. Before then, my “type” had been nerdy computer guys and engineers, or sometimes other graphic designers. But she was right.

  He called the next day to let me know what was wrong with the car and how much the repairs would cost. He explained everything and never acted like I was clueless about cars (which I would have quickly picked up on, because I’m not clueless about cars, thanks to my brother ). We talked about other things, and next thing I knew, I’d been on the phone for an hour—and I knew I wanted to see him again.

  Friday, I picked up the car and paid him $400 for replacing the head gasket and serpentine belt. The following weekend was Sweetest Day, and I found flowers on my doorstep. I’d been dating another guy who was nice, but the chemistry just wasn’t there. It was with Donnie, and I was thrilled to find that he’d sent the flowers.

  A year and a half later, I had an engagement ring that cost much more than my car repairs. Twenty years later, I’d say I got my money’s worth—and then some.

  About Jennette

  Jennette Marie Powell is the author of Time’s Enemy, a time-travel romance in which an ordinary guy only wants to make things right, but becomes the target of a secret society of time travelers. A lifelong resident of the Dayton, Ohio area, she likes to dig beneath the surface and find the extraordinary beneath the mundane, whether in people, places, or historical events. While she has no desire to change the past, she enjoys learning about local history, particularly the early 20th century. Her preferred places to time travel are from her computer or Dayton’s Carillon Historical Park. By day, she wrangles data and websites in between excursions to search for the aliens and spacecraft that legends say are stashed away on the military base where she works.

  About Time’s Enemy

  One unwanted gift. One great wrong. One chance to make things right…

  Tony Solomon never wanted to be a time traveler. But when a freak accident gifts him with the ability to travel in time, he becomes an unwilling initiate in a secret society of time travelers. Determined to prevent his daughter’s murder, he violates the Society’s highest law and becomes a fugitive. When the Society refuses to tell Tony how to time-travel within his own life, he seeks help from Charlotte, the woman whose life he saved during a prior trip to the past.

  When Tony arrives in 1933 looking for answers, Charlotte is both thrilled and terrified to see her childhood hero. Loyal to the Society, she is honor-bound to bring to justice those who manipulate time for their own gain. In giving him sanctuary, she faces a terrible choice-condemn the man she loves and to whom she owes her life, or deny her deepest convictions by helping him escape and risk sharing his sentence.

  “I could not put it down. The characters were clear and well-drawn. The popping in and out of eras and changes in the surroundings in Dayton, Ohio, a place I have lived, failed to confuse me. That says a lot for the skill of the author.”

  - Maggie, Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance and More

  Excerpt From Time’s Enemy

  Tony looked her in the eyes as his breathing slowed to normal, although his expression remained wary. “I was looking forward to going out, but I’m afraid I’m not feeling very well... maybe I’d better stay in.”

  The lighter-than-air feeling in Charlotte’s stomach snapped, dropping her back to earth. He’d wanted to take her to the dance. Enough he hadn’t tried to ask his alarming questions yet that evening, as he’d tried every night so far. But now... “What’s wrong?”

  He rubbed his stomach. “Nothing major, just a little heartburn.”

  He was lying. Why? Did he know what Theodore wanted?

  Tony moved to the sofa. “Sorry I ruined your plans.”

  She shot a glance at the curtained window and sighed. “I suppose it’s just as well.”

  He looked up, questioning. “It would look strange for me to show up with a man who’s supposed to be just my boarder,” she said. “Betty Clark from down the street goes every week with her sweetheart, she’d tell her mother and next thing you know... And next week, others would wonder what happened to you, why you’re not there after... you know.” After the Pull took him back to his time. She didn’t want to think about it.

  He stood, his eyes never leaving her, and held out a hand. “Miss Henderson, would you care to dance?”

  A thousand tiny wings beat against Charlotte’s heart, blowing away all thoughts of her obligation. It was just a dance. What could be the harm? The fluttering slowed, and she forced calm into her voice. “I’d love to.”

  She slid her hand into his, and he led her to the center of the room. His other hand was warm on her back between her shoulder blades, and his sureness pushed away the last of her anxiety. She let him lead her in an odd, freestyle step that made up in feeling what it lacked in style. This moment could last forever. It’d never been that way with Elmer. Not even with Louie, the first and only man she’d let— No use thinking such things. She and Tony had no future. But they had tonight.

  They swirled in time to the music, the feel of his hand in hers and on her shoulder sent an intoxicating warmth through her. “Did I tell you you look incredible?”

  Her cheeks heated. “I believe you did. But I don’t mind hearing it again.” Perhaps the dress showed more than was proper. She didn’t care. She turned her face back to his and reveled in the feeling that for this moment, there was only the two of them and the music. Nothing else existed. Her world began and ended in Tony’s arms.

  He pulled her close, enough to catch the dance-hall inspectors’ notice had they gone to Triangle Park. She leaned into his shoulder and caught a whiff of the restaurant beneath a pleasant blend of his clean shirt and mildly musky man-scent. Too soon the song was over.

  Charlotte tipped her head. “That was delightful.” She didn’t want to let him go, didn’t want the emptiness, the sense of something lacking when they’d part. But she couldn’t stand in the middle of the room holding his hand all night. She stepped back but Tony didn’t release her. Instead, he tightened his hold and slid his other arm around her back, then drew her closer until their bodies touched. She let go of his hand, unable to do anything but look into his eyes.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t go to the dance,” he said.

  She looked down, conscious of the press of her breasts against his chest, then met his gaze again. “I’m not.”

  His eyes closed halfway and he lowered his head until his lips touched hers. A thrill coursed through her body as she angled her neck to meet his kiss.

  His lips were soft, yet firm, and her body tingled with awareness everywhere they touched. He started to pull away, but she slid her arms around his back. He relaxed against her and did the same, his mouth still molded to hers, moving with hers. No future. Just this moment.

  Finally he pulled back and dropped his arms. “God, I’m sorry. I had no business doing
that.”

  Her fingers trailed down his arm as she stepped away. “I didn’t try to stop you.”

  They moved to the sofa and sat with a wide gap between them. They stared at the radio, the way Tony said people in his time sat and watched the wondrous thing he called television.

  Finally he spoke. “Look, Charlotte... maybe I should go to a hotel. I don’t want to, but... I’m not be the man for you. Not when I have a week at the most to be here.”

  She studied her hands in her lap. Maybe he was right, but there was so much more at stake. His life, maybe his soul. She had to bring him to the Society. If she failed to keep her end of the bargain, Theodore would find Tony and make him a mindless shell of a man like Fred Cheltenham.

  She’d watched Tony for four days. Tried to convince him his best chance to learn what he wanted to know lay in the Society House. He hadn’t fallen for it.

  He hadn’t done anything wrong so far, but his questions warned her he would. She had to stop him.

  Warmth crawled through her insides. He was so much more than the man who saved her life. “Maybe you’re right,” she said. He shifted, started to rise, but she touched his arm, stopping him. “But it’s late. Stay here tonight. Go tomorrow if you must.”

  As soon as she got off work, they’d leave for the Society House. She’d insist on it. Trick him if she had to. He found her intriguing, enough to make him temporarily forget his mission. If all else failed, she’d use her “woman’s wiles,” as Theodore called it. Whatever it takes.

  Time’s Enemy is available in print and as an e-book in all major formats from the following retailers:

  Amazon

  Barnes & Noble

  Smashwords

  For more information visit Jennette’s website: www.jenpowell.com.

  Athena Grayson

  The Game of Love

  “He Rolled a Lucky Dice.”

  The sentiment might seem a little woo-woo, but even the practical Mister half agrees with the sentiment. Athena and The Mister met at the university SF/Fantasy/Role-Playing society. They spent over a year aiming for each other and missing, until one cold night over spring break Mr. Athena walked her home from gaming night and she thanked him by exploding hot cocoa all over him. Unable to resist such an overture (what man wouldn’t succumb to exploding cocoa?), he invited her back to his house (or rather, he didn’t put up much of a fight when she invited herself back), and there she stayed. Only later did he reveal that while she was exploding the chocolate, he let one of his lucky dice determine whether or not he would take the chance to ask her back to his place.

  That was twenty years ago this March. Four and a half years after the Night of Exploding Chocolate, they made it official (and Athena made her wedding gown and the bridesmaid’s dresses!) and it’s been one big Dungeon Crawl ever since. “Fortunately,” says Athena, “we both kept our lucky dice and we’ve rolled our share of critical successes.”

  About Forever Material

  Athena writes romantic comedies across subgenres and believes that life imitates art. People who never stop looking for something to laugh about are rarely disappointed and have a better chance of stumbling into joy. Forever is her first full-length novel.

  After making a fool out of herself too many times over bad boys with no responsibility and nothing but heartbreak on their minds, Barbara Whitehall developed a philosophy to help women like herself get over the bad boys and find good men. And it works. Her DateSmart workshops have become so popular that she’s leased a storefront and is now giving them on a weekly basis. Hundreds of women have been helped through DateSmart, and while she hasn’t found her Forever Material yet, she’s confident that she’ll recognize him when she sees him.

  Jake Mancini’s life was going just fine until his good-looking new neighbor walked into his life on killer legs. But those legs are nothing next to her lethal tongue. Her “DateSmart” workshops have cheated him out of several mutually enjoyable Saturday nights with attractive women.

  But Barbara’s always had a soft spot for bad boys, even though she knows they’re bad for her. If she lets Jake get too close, she’ll end up losing her heart to one more bad boy who’ll toss it in the trash when he’s done.

  Excerpt from Forever Material

  Jake Mancini was a swearing man. He’d have been swearing right now if it weren’t for the wrench clamped in his teeth. Even a strong swear word might push him off his too-thin perch. A few bolted together two-by-twelve roof trusses supported him and the sea of acoustical tiles making up the dropped ceiling beneath him.

  He ought to be just above the wall between his studio and the business next door. If I measured right. He edged forward. At one time, the space that would become his martial arts studio and the space that made up DateSmart had been one big store, especially its ceiling. Now, in order to fix one aluminum strip that held one row of acoustical tiles crookedly, he had to make the harrowing journey to No Man’s Land.

  The sultry voice of his nemesis—DateSmart’s founder and head man-hater—drifted up from below. “The first thing you ladies will learn in this seminar is that smart women make smart choices, and that means kicking that loser to the curb.”

  He shook his head, the wrench in his teeth keeping him from cracking a smile. Barbara Whitehall claimed her seminars taught women how to date. That was a joke. He’d bet a six-pack that she hadn’t had a date herself in at least ten years.

  Which was a damn shame when you thought about it. The woman was a looker, no doubt about that—black hair and green cat’s eyes and a toned, sleek body. The makings of a pin-up if he ever saw one. Until she opened her mouth.

  In spite of her looks, the woman was one hundred percent shrew. She’d make somebody a doozy of an ex-wife someday, if she wasn’t an ex-missus already.

  He sucked in air around the wrench in his teeth, trying to avoid the inevitable drool that happened anytime you were working on something that involved gripping by mouth. The end of the wall was within reach, if he could just inch a little further.

  He looked down to determine where to put his hands next and through some dumb luck, happened to see through to the floor below. Nausea oozed over him, causing sweat to pop out in rivulets that tickled in places he dare not try and scratch.

  He froze. Barbara’s flinty voice filtered up to him and for once, he was grateful for its biting harshness. He wasn’t a fan of heights, but he’d rather be up here than down there.

  “There are two ways to approach the finding of a compatible mate—the haphazard way and the DateSmart way. One of these could take you through a lifetime of losers before you find a suitable match. The other will weed out the losers before mistakes can be made.

  “I’m going to teach you ladies how to make smart relationship decisions that will result in smart relationships. Now the first thing I want you to do is this.”

  Her voice stopped. He picked up the faint squeak of an erasable marker writing on a whiteboard. Just like her to have a whiteboard. Never trust anyone whose desk was clean and who actually used a whiteboard for something besides semi-pornographic doodles and silly quotes. One of the hard lessons his former life had taught him.

  The shakes subsided from his muscles and he continued to edge forward, this time careful not to look straight down. Almost there. Soon he could look forward to not one flimsy set of two-by-tens under him, but two—and a rickety T-joint if he was really lucky.

  In the meantime, nothing else up here entertained enough for him to stop listening to Barbara’s lessons on dating.

  “The first thing I want you to do is forget about love. Love is a myth, an excuse, and has nothing whatsoever to do with making smart relationship decisions.”

  Jake blinked. Damn, but the woman was vicious. Cold was the woman who didn’t believe in love, man. Thankfully, a few murmurs of protest came from the Stepford manhaters in training down there.

  Barbara’s voice rose over the others. “I’m not saying people don’t fall in love. But if you use
love to direct your relationship decisions, you have a much greater chance of making a decision you’ll come to regret. Do any of you want to date a loser?”

  Some scattered and meek “no’s” filtered up.

  “I didn’t think so.” Her voice took on a satisfied edge. “For whatever reason, we women haven’t yet evolved out of our ability to fall in love with losers. Making good relationship decisions involves logic, lucidity, and most importantly, leaving love out of it.”

  “But how can you control who you fall in love with?”

  Saints be praised, a protester, Jake thought wryly. At last, he came to the cross-beam and settled himself on it gingerly.

  The poor girl was shot down just after takeoff. “You may not be able to control who you’re in love with, but you’d better be able to control who you’ll be with. Which is where the DateSmart philosophy comes in.”

  Oh, enlighten me, Dating Diva. He didn’t have to wait long. Barbara plowed on. “There are two kinds of men in this world, ladies. There’s Forever Material—which we’re all looking for—and there’s Fling Material. What I’m here to teach you is that you will never make the one into the other, no matter how hard you try. There are men made in this world that can never give you what you want in a good, solid relationship. Don’t waste your time trying to make them into something they’re not.”

  He snorted around the wrench. She sounded like a nature show host, classifying apes. The thought that she might be talking about him entered his mind and he scoffed.

  Sure, he hadn’t dated the same woman for more than a few months in years, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of it. He just wasn’t some dweeb to follow around a woman and say, “Yes, Dumpling, no, Dumpling, I’ll-do-whatever-you-want, Dumpling.” He silently dared her to try and fit him into her little pigeonholes. She had no idea what she was talking about.