PARIS IS ALWAYS A GOOD IDEA airs on Hallmark Plus TODAY!!!

Jenn McKinlay: At long last, the release of the adaptation of my book Paris is Always a Good Idea is here. I wish I could find the words to tell you what this means to me, but I've tried for months and I can't. It's just beyond my comprehension that this actually happened. Last summer there were some rumblings of an option, but those happen all the time so I didn't pay any attention. 

Then in the fall, the rumblings became actual conversations. Promising but only 1% of all books published get optioned and only 1% of all options make it to the screen so, again, I ignored it. Then the option contract came and I signed it. I figured that would be the end of it, but a week later, I was informed that the project had been greenlit. My book was going to be a streaming series for the Hallmark+ channel, starring the Queen of Hallmark, Lacey Chabert.

Yeah, I still didn't believe it. Then a big check landed and I thought: This might actually happen.

After that, things moved very quickly with Zoom meetings with the screenwriters and producer, a set visit in Spain (OMG!), and lots of press--so much press. I've done more interviews for this show than I have for all of my books combined. I don't mind a bit, but I also won't be sad for that portion of things to pass. It was fun, but I'm ready to go hide in my office now. 

ON SET IN BILBOA, SPAIN

Right now, before I watch the actual show, the highlight of this entire experience for me was the set visit to see the magic happen. Spoiler: it is not magic. It is a lot of hard work by very talented, very dedicated people, giving me a new appreciation for every show or film I watch. 

This wasn’t new information for me as I did a one time stint as an extra on a TV pilot (Moloney back in 1996). We were on set from 6 AM to 11 PM, and it was so incredibly boring (remember this is before cell phones so there was nothing, and I mean nothing, to do). If ever you watch it, I am in the police station scene, sitting at a desk when Peter Strauss walks by, eating pasta out of a plastic container. We did that scene so many times that the words “back to one” still make me a little stabby.

I had forgotten all of this when I went to visit the set. As I watched the super talented Rebecca Hanssen (of Baldur’s Gate and Witcher fame) do her scene over and over with the same dedication and presence, I wasn’t bored at all but rather incredibly impressed with her and every member of the cast and crew working to make what would be 30 seconds of the show the best it could be, especially given the stretch of cold rainy weather they were dealing with. It was so inspiring and, yes, it looked more fun than the revisions and edits I do all alone with a bag of Hersey kisses and a bottomless pot of coffee riding shotgun.

Amazingly, the set for Paris is Always a Good Idea during this filming stretch was in a castle outside of Bilbao, Spain. A castle, y’all! Full disclosure, I wavered about taking this trip because my cat was critically ill, it’s thirteen hours of flying (one way) to Madrid, and I’d have to rent a car and drive or fly again to get to Bilbao in northern Spain. But I kept thinking…if not now, when?

There’s no guarantee that another book of mine will ever be picked up for film. The social media messages I’d exchanged with the cast and the meetings I’d had with the screenwriter and the producer were all so positive that I was able to let go of my Imposter Syndrome (mostly). I hired my Hooligans — one as translator (he’s bilingual) and the other as navigator and photographer (he’s a film school grad) and off we went.

After touring castle Torre Loizaga with the charming owner Patricio and chatting with various crew, I met the delightful director Ed Bazalgette. As a creative who exists in her own bubble, it was quite a moment for me to have Ed express what he loved about the story, the characters, and the book’s messages about grief, love, and choosing happiness. Actresses Lacey Chabert and Barbara Niven also took the time to tell me how much they enjoyed playing their characters and loved the depth of the story. Lacey and I did several interviews and I can testify that, yes, she is the nicest actress in Hollywood. There’s just no way to express how these fellow creatives made me feel seen and understood in ways I never have before. Wow, just wow.

You see, at the time I wrote it, Paris is Always a Good Idea was the book of my heart, coming from a place of grief and loss. Because it was released five months into the pandemic, I never felt like it got the shot it deserved to reach its widest audience. The cast and crew don’t know it, but their kindness and enthusiasm for the story—from the point of view of creative professionals—healed a lot of wounds for me as I realized that this adaptation, the same but also different from the book, would allow my story to reach the audience I’d always hoped it would find. Those moments made the entire trip one hundred percent worth it.

I suppose the takeaway here is to live by the age old advice…order the dessert, buy the shoes, take the trip because…if not now, when? 

And today I'm looking forward to watching the adaptation and seeing my story be told through the eyes of other story tellers. From the scripts I've read and the clips I've seen, they've done an amazing job and I am delighted and so very grateful. Here's to dreams coming true!

What about you, Reds and Readers, how do you feel about book to film/tv adaptations? Do any stand out as particularly good or bad?

Missing Inspiration by Jenn McKinlay

 JENN McKINLAY: I am in the thick of writing proposals. This is the best part and the worst part of the writing process to me. Taking that kernel of an idea and crafting it into something that readers will love, always feels like landing at the base camp on Mount Everest. 

I love it when an idea comes out of the ether and fills my brain, taking over my every thought until I get the story down on the page. Unfortunately, this very rarely happens and it's much more likely to be an idea that goes nowhere, a notion that goes sideways, or a concept that tanks before it can become a fully realized PROPOSAL. 

One of the biggest challenges right now is that the industry is very saturated in romcoms and mysteries and what I hear repeatedly from the publishers and booksellers is that they want "the same but different". When I ask what they mean specifically, I am told that they don't know but they'll know it when they see it. As you can tell I have spent many an hour banging my forehead on my desk.

BUY NOW

When things seem impossible, I do look behind me and remember that PARIS IS ALWAYS A GOOD IDEA came fully formed while I sat in my car waiting for a Hooligan while the SPRINKLE WITH MURDER arrived almost by happenstance when everywhere I looked there were cupcakes and everyone I spoke seemed to be talking about cupcakes and I just happened to be looking for a fresh angle on cozy mysteries. 

BUY NOW

Since I am fresh out of inspiration, a very disconcerting place for me since finishing the cozy fantasy, I must ask both the Reds and the Readers, what do you do when your creative well is dry? Do you have a technique for kick-starting your brain or your creativity? In other words...HELP!

Paris is Always a Good Idea -- Release Day!

On Sale Today!

RHYS: Who doesn't agree that Paris is always a good idea? Now more than ever! But today we Reds are jumping up and down with excitement because this much anticipated day has finally come.  Our dear Jenn's beautiful, wonderful, sexy, funny break-out book is finally born.

What's more it's the perfect book to help us escape from the crazy world we're living in. Tell all your friends. Jenn couldn't have the sort of tour and publicity she would have expected for a new venture like this so let's all shout from the rooftops.

Here is enough to whet your appetite:

One of Popsugar’s Best New Books for Summer 2020

A thirty-year-old woman retraces her gap year through Ireland, France, and Italy to find love—and herself—in this hilarious and heartfelt novel.

It's been seven years since Chelsea Martin embarked on her yearlong postcollege European adventure. Since then, she's lost her mother to cancer and watched her sister marry twice, while Chelsea's thrown herself into work, becoming one of the most talented fundraisers for the American Cancer Coalition, and with the exception of one annoyingly competent coworker, Jason Knightley, her status as most successful moneymaker is unquestioned.

When her introverted mathematician father announces he's getting remarried, Chelsea is forced to acknowledge that her life stopped after her mother died and that the last time she can remember being happy, in love, or enjoying her life was on her year abroad. Inspired to retrace her steps—to find Colin in Ireland, Jean Claude in France, and Marcelino in Italy—Chelsea hopes that one of these three men who stole her heart so many years ago can help her find it again. 

From the start of her journey nothing goes as planned, but as Chelsea reconnects with her old self, she also finds love in the very last place she expected.

JENN McKINLAY: What a thrill to have Paris is Always a Good Idea released into the wild! Even after so many books (Paris is my 45th book!!!) the thrill of opening a box of author's copies never ever gets old! 

This book, oh, this book. My first foray into women's fiction and it was an endeavor. It was hard. It required some blood letting, sage burning, and howling at the moon. Okay, not really, but it sure felt like it. Given that my personality is one of conflict avoidance -- as in, Oh, things are awful, okay, let's just cracks jokes and move forward and pretend we're not having any feelings -- writing about a person grappling with grief and loss and big turning points in her life, while she was traveling in three different countries, mind you -- was really freaking difficult. Oh, and it's me, so it had to be funny or why bother. In fact, I'm quite positive this book gave me shingles! Oy!

There was so much about this book that came from my own life. Chelsea, the heroine, finds herself at a turning point where big decisions have to be made. Her journey to find her happiness brought me back to the time in my life where I was standing at a crossroads, trying to decide which way I should go. Should I quit my job and move across the country to follow my dream of being a writer or should I continue on in the unfulfilling but safe job I had landed post college? I suppose it’s obvious which path I chose. Like me, Chelsea quits her job, but her journey, to try and find her former happiness, becomes much more complicated than she anticipated.

Chelsea has been challenged by her sister, Annabelle, to rediscover her old self in the last place she can remember being happy. She believes that if she goes back and reconnects with her past loves, maybe, she can find her happiness and herself again. But is it possible to go back? Can we ever be the person we once were before such a life changing event like the loss of a loved one? There is only one way for Chelsea to find out. She has to go.

It is my fondest wish that Chelsea’s journey will resonate with you, Readers. I think we have all lived through times of loss and grief, endured uncertainty while standing at life’s crossroads, and have looked to our past to inform our future, while navigating this crazy journey called life. Being able to examine these truths through Chelsea, while writing about some of the places I love best in the world was a pure joy for me in the end (despite the shingles) and I hope it will be for you as well.

So, tell me, if you had to go to Europe (hardship, I know) to make a big life decision, which country would you visit and why? 



Also, if you're in the mood for a bargain (and who isn't?) my romantic comedy EVERY DOG HAS HIS DAY is on sale for $2.99, with several other terrific titles, wherever ebooks are sold!

What We're Writing - Jenn on Promo!

Jenn McKinlay: I am presently at the start of that two-weeks prior to release day mad dash of have-I-slapped-news-of-my-upcoming-release-on-every- possible-social-media-forum-known-to-God-and-man? Is there any new way I can say "Buy my Book!" without saying buy my book? Um...how about a giveaway? A live chat? A bulletin board in downtown Phoenix? A Zoom visit with every bookstore that will have me? Does everyone know I have a book coming out? It's a romcom set in Ireland, France, and Italy - coming July 21st - just sayin'! Plus, look at the cool animation my publisher did of the cover. 

Buy Now!

At this point, I feel like the neighborhood gardener with the bumper crop of zucchini. A perfectly nice person, to be sure, but suddenly they have zucchini coming out their ears and you can't walk by their house without them thrusting a bag of the dreaded stuff on you.  Right now, I am that person with the paper sack full of zucchini. People see me coming and they run. I get it. I don't take it personally. Really. (sob)

But still, promo is a part of the job. I think I've hit every avenue available to a writer for promotion (there's even a book club kit for the novel: click HERE), but if you have any suggestions or ideas, give me a holler! 

A starred review from Publisher's Weekly! Thrilling!

Paris is Always a Good Idea is my debut trade paperback women's fiction novel. Debut! It's like starting all over and being a newbie author again -- exhilarating and insanely stressful! Because 2020 hasn't been exhausting enough. I swear every day feels like a week, every week a month, every month a...well, you get the idea. Focus, Jenn! Talk about the book!

There is so much I want to say about this book. How I wrote it in the wake of great personal loss, how the stress of writing it almost killed me with a scorching case of shingles (not hyperbole, okay, maybe a little), and how it really started to shine with such delightful promise in the beginning of the year. Then, as you all know, the world ground to a halt and the fiction industry hit pause. So now we're in a very peculiar wait and see period, which for an author releasing their baby into the world is, frankly, excruciating. 

And so, I write my silly social media blurbs, trying to lure skittish readers like wild birds to the feeder: 

Have you ever looked up your exes? (Subtext, don't look up your exes, just read about my heroine looking up hers. Much more satisfying without the potential for embarrassment or upset).

Which country would you like to travel to Ireland, France, or Italy? (Less subtle subtext: No one can travel anywhere right now, so buy my book and you can fictionally tour all of Europe. Much cheaper).

Can a person ever really let go of the pain of their past? (Not even subtext, more like a slap upside the head of -- who cares? Buy my book! It's fun and it'll make you cry - a twofer!). 

All right, Reds, how about it? What's in your secret promo sauce? Where do you focus your energy? 

And, Readers, what gets you to buy a book from a debut author? Word of mouth? Reviews? A pretty cover? Can a writer grind you down by promoting so much you develop FOMO (fear of missing out) and you buy the book or does too much promo repel you? 

Asking for a friend. Okay, it's me, I'm asking for me. 

What We're Writing (or not) Week - Jenn McKinlay

First, Happy Mother's Day to all who mother two legged, four legged, finned or feathered! 

And, because this is also a day that can be difficult for many, here are hugs to those who wanted to be moms but life had other plans, those with complicated relationships with the ones who mom them, to those who've lost their moms, and to those whose active mom time was shorter than expected. Please know that you are beautiful, special, uniquely you, and you are loved.

Second, we have some winners!!!  From our coppersmithing author friend, Sara Dahmen, the winners are...

Celia Fowler for the book!

Susan Emerson for the copper straws!

You can email Sara at: housecopper at gmail dot com with your addresses and she'll send your prizes! Congratulations!

Jenn McKinlay: And now, what am I writing? Welp, I can start by saying it hasn't felt like writing. It's been more like driving alone in a white out blizzard in a Geo Metro from New London, CT to Worcester, MA -- a white knuckling, while really needing to pee, drafting in behind a trailer truck for the entire stretch of I-395 experience, ending when I landed at my brother's house, where I did a face plant in the snow but shot my hand up out of the snowbank to retrieve the tumbler of whiskey he held out to me. Good times!

Basically, I'm writing Wait For It, my second stand alone women's fiction rom-com, by the seat of my pants, which is exactly what driving through that blizzard felt like. I couldn't see where I was going and every mile felt like five hundred miles. I had no idea where I was or when I would get to my destination, if I arrived at all. Full disclosure, this is the first book I have written by the seat of my pants (NO OUTLINE!) since I started writing mysteries. I have no idea why. The world was on fire all around me and I just couldn't get it together to write an outline but the book was due either way, so I strapped in and away I went. Only time will tell if this was the stupidest/smartest thing I've done in writing to date. 

All I do know is that the book is due on May 15th, and IT WILL BE DONE. Because it's in no shape to be shared right now, I'm going to share a snippet of Paris Is Always A Good Idea, which I did have an outline for, thank God!

Excerpt: Chelsea Martin vs. Jason Knightley

“You’ve got some hidden talents, Martin,” he said. 

I knew he was trying to get a rise out of me and I should resist. Instead, I smacked his feet off the corner of my desk. 

“You’re mistaking my work space for the frat house you wallow in, Knightley,” I said. “Feet stay on the floor.” 

“You’re no fun,” he complained. 

It was exactly the sort of thing he could have said to me on any other day and I wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Not today. Today I felt as if he was speaking my truth, and it hurt. 

“Was there something you needed?” I snapped. “Because I really am busy.” 

He studied my face. Clearly, he’d been expecting a bit more of our usual back-and-forth. 

“Busy doing what exactly?” he asked. 

“Packing,” I said. I gestured to the box and my stuff going inside the box. I really thought I should get points for not adding duh to my answer. 

He heaved an exasperated sigh. “No kidding, but why are you packing?” 

“Because I’m leaving,” I said. “Not that it’s any of your business.” 

“Wait . . . what?” He rose to his feet, and I found myself staring up at him. “You’re serious? You’re leaving? For real?” 

“Yes,” I said. “In two weeks I’m gone.” 

Jason stared at me, slack jawed. He looked stunned, as if I’d just told him I was pregnant and the baby was his. 

“But . . . that’s . . . How . . . Why . . .” 

I took no small satisfaction in making the usually smooth-talking Jason stutter. I watched as he shook his head as if trying to realign his brain. When he finished, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. 

“Martin, you can’t leave. You can’t leave me.” 

I stared at him. He seemed genuinely upset. Had I misjudged our heated rivalry as corporate fundraisers for the American Cancer Coalition all these years? I’d thought he couldn’t stand me. Had I been wrong? Maybe beneath his flagrant disregard for my organizational skills and his sarcastic asides at meetings when I was speaking, he actually liked me. Was our relationship the professional equivalent of the boy on the playground who showed a girl he liked her by pulling her pigtails or punching her in the arm? 

“I mean, who is going to make me look good at the weekly staff meetings if you’re not there to bore us all to death with your Power- Points, charts, graphs, and other assorted mind-numbing minutiae?” he asked. He uncrossed his arms and spread his hands wide. “I count on you, Martin, to make me shine.” 

So that was a negative on him actually liking me. I should have known. Jason Knightley was an arrogant asshat. If I could pick one thing I was not going to miss about working here, it would be him. 

“I’ll be sure to tell my replacement to load up on the statistical data,” I said. “I wouldn’t want your lazy little star to go dim.”  

“Lazy?” His eyebrows rose. “Are you calling me lazy?” 

He put his hands on his hips and looked incredulous. Clearly, I’d struck a nerve. Goody. 

“Truth hurts?” I asked.


“Truth?” he asked. “What truth? I work just as hard as you do.”


I snorted and held up a hand as if he were telling a joke that was too funny. “Please.”


“I do,” he insisted. “Just because I don’t bog it all down with number projections in Excel spreadsheets—”


“Bog it all down?” I gaped at him. “Those projections are what convince the corporations to pony up the major gifts, Knightley. They want to see how their money will be used, how it will impact their business and spread their mission.” 

“It’s all smoke and mirrors,” he said. He shook his head. “You make it more task driven than it needs to be. You like busywork because it makes you feel like you’re accomplishing something. News flash—you’re not. It’s the big picture that matters.” 

That did it! I really was going to brain him with one of my awards. 

“Busywork?” I hissed through clenched teeth. My right eyelid started to twitch. I could feel it throb in time to my heartbeat. I wanted to hold it still with my index finger, but I didn’t want to betray that he was getting to me. 

“Yup,” he said. He pantomimed typing on a keyboard with his hands. “Busy, busy, busy. No one wants to read those long-winded reports of yours. They want big ideas; they want something to get excited about; they want to have a campaign that goes viral and makes their company a global presence.” 

If he kept talking, I suspected my resting bitch face was going to become permanent, like a stone mask that nothing could crack. This. This was precisely why I couldn’t stand Jason Knightley. 

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” I said. “But you’re an idiot. No corporation is going to sign off on a major gift for a ‘big idea.’” 

“No?” Jason asked. He gave me a superior look. “Then why did the sneaker company Soles jump in and match the millions in donations for my hot wing challenge for the Children’s Leukemia Society?” 

I closed my eyes. I drew in a long breath, held it, and then carefully let it out. So typical of him to bring up his one significant claim to fundraising fame. I stared at him across my barren desk. 

He grinned at me without humor. “It drives you crazy, doesn’t it?” 

I rolled my eyes. “It was lightning in a bottle.” 

“Bullshit. It was a well-thought-out campaign that people loved to participate in,” he said. 

“Well thought out?” I leaned back on my heels and crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look down on him, which was not easy, because he was several inches taller than I was. “Who are you kidding? You cooked it up while killing time at some bar for happy hour where the wings and beer were half price.” 

He didn’t even look embarrassed. He shrugged and winked at me and said, “Inspiration strikes where it strikes, plus it made millions. How much have you ever managed to wrestle as a major gift? One million? Five million?” 

“I’m sorry, are we comparing dick size here?” I asked. “Because I can assure you while my anatomy is different, if it’s a pissing contest you want, I’ll win.” 

“Admit it, Martin.” He leaned down so our faces were just inches apart. “You don’t have my reach.” 

“Ugh.” I curled my lip. That was it. I was leaving my job. Why was I even speaking to this Neanderthal? I turned on my heel and crossed to the open door of my office. I raised my hands and gestured for him to leave. “I think we’re done here.” 

“Is that how you deal with losing a debate?” he asked. He turned to face me. “You just throw the person out?” 

“First, this wasn’t a debate. It was a waste of fifteen minutes of my life that I’ll never get back,” I said. 

I reached forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the door. Normally, I would never touch another employee, as I was hyper- aware of the rules put forth by our human resources person, Michelle Fernando, who was downright scary, about encroaching on my colleagues’ personal space, but at the moment, I had no Fs left to give. If Jason Knightley didn’t leave my office right now, I was going to put my foot in his backside and kick him out the door. 

 “Second, I’m not throwing you out but merely assisting your overly swollen head through the doorway so that it doesn’t get stuck,” I said. 

“Aw, sweet.” Jason chuckled as I propelled him forward. In an innuendo-laden voice, he wagged his eyebrows and asked, “So, you like my big frontal lobe?” 

“Get. Out.” I gave him a firm but what I hoped would be construed as friendly—it wasn’t—shove through the opening. I stepped back and grabbed the door, slamming it in his face. Then I huffed out an exasperated breath, trying to find my Zen. 

“I take it that’s a no on the sexy frontal lobe?” he called through the door. 

In spite of myself, my lips twitched. 

 And now for some awesome news... a Starred Review from

Publisher's Weekly for Paris is Always a Good Idea! YAY!!! 

Also, I'm getting a tattoo of the word "flawless" on something 

somewhere someday. LOL!

Dropping July 21st!!! 

Okay, then, Reds and Readers, who is a plotter and who is a seat of the pantser? It doesn't have to be just in writing. How do you live your life - planned or spontaneous? Has it ever switched on you? (Oh, horror!)

What We're Writing - Jenn McKinlay

Jenn McKinlay: Per usual, I have a few too many irons in the fire but if I didn't what would I do with myself? I have learned to embrace the chaos. Okay, it's more like I have it in a choke hold so it doesn't avalanche on me, but that works, too. 

So here's what's cooking: I have the copyedits for ONE FOR THE BOOKS coming any day. But let me just show you the cover because OMG, I love it so much! 

September 2020

Also, I'm writing promo pieces for PUMPKIN SPICE PERIL which arrives in April. The paperback is on super sale right now - just sayin'.

April 28, 2020

In addition to the above, I'm prepping the excerpts, Q & A's, and blog tours for PARIS IS ALWAYS A GOOD IDEA. So exciting!!!

July 2020

Aaaaaand I'm writing the first draft of WAIT FOR IT my second single title women's fiction book, slated to come out in July 2021. All of this is happening during and between arriving home from the SW FL Book Festival and dashing back out to Left Coast Crime in San Diego, which is where I am now. 

To answer your question, yes, I drink a LOT of coffee! Since I'm working on WAIT FOR IT, here's an early peek at a scene from chapter one. Our heroine, Annabelle Martin, is celebrating her un-anniversary with her first (yes, I said first) ex-husband Jeremy after turning down a job offer from a friend. When she realizes Jeremy has a completely different agenda unfolding, she has to make a pre-emptive strike:

THE hostess led us through the rows of tables, to one tucked beside a tall window. To my surprise, it was strewn with pink rose petals and a bottle of champagne was in a bucket with two glasses already poured and waiting for us. I gave Jeremy side eye. 

     “You went all out this year,” I said. 

     He shrugged. “It seems like a special un-anniversary, doesn’t it?”
     His pale green eyes met mine and I felt a prickle of alarm. Had I missed something? Had I forgotten something? What did he mean by “special”? My heart started to pound in my chest like warning shots being fired. I could feel my flight or fight, okay, mostly flight response kick in. 

     Jeremy and I had celebrated our un-anniversary at the Top of the Hub, since he moved to Boston three years ago. It was always low-key and fun right up until last year, when, in a bout of deep loneliness, I invited him to spend the night. He’d been “spending the night”, if you get my drift, a couple of times a month ever since. 

     I knew my friend Sophie was right that the relationship wasn’t doing either one of us any good but like glazed donuts or cigarettes or three-day long video game playing binges, I didn’t want to give it up because then I’d have to go out there and find a real relationship, which felt like entirely too much work.

     He pulled out my chair out and I slid into my seat. I felt out of step, like I was clapping on the down beat, and couldn’t quite get the rhythm of the room. I noticed that people at surrounding tables were covertly watching us. This was bad. 

     The hostess put our menus on the corner of the table and stepped back. She was younger than me by a couple of years. She had that fresh faced enthusiasm that could only be found on a person who hadn’t been paying their own rent for very long. 

     She glanced between us and then with a soft squeak, she stepped back, turned on her heel and hurried away. The unease inside of me began speaking in tongues. 

     Jeremy picked up the two champagne glasses and handed me one. I debated downing it, sensing that liquid courage was going to be required. He lifted his in a toast. I wished he’d sit down. It felt as if he was looming over me. 

     “Annabelle, you’re my best friend,” he said. Oh, dear, this sounded like the opening of a speech. That couldn’t be good. Usually we just said, “Look at us,”, clinked glasses and down the hatch the beverage went. We didn’t do speeches. 

      “And you’re mine,” I said. I lifted my glass, indicating the toast was over. But he didn’t get the message. In fact, he looked as if he was just warming up.

     “I know,” he said. “Despite the fact that we got married too young and you had that episode with what’s his name, we’re still each other’s plus one.”

     “By episode, you mean my marriage to Greg?” I asked. I blinked innocently.

     He made a face as if a fly had just flown into his mouth. He waved his hand dismissively and continued on.

     “Yeah, even then I always felt like we were meant to be together, you know.” 

     I didn’t know. I had thought we were done except for the friendship and fringe benefits. The cold feeling in the pit of my stomach began to harden into a block of ice. If he was headed where I feared, we were not going to come out of this as friends, never mind with benefits.

     “I always believed we’d grow old together and end up on a porch somewhere in matching rocking chairs,” he said. His smile was sweet when he tilted his head and stared into my eyes. He was going to propose. I could see it coming as if it had the bright blaze of a meteor breaking through the atmosphere.

     I had to stop him. I didn’t want to marry him again and I didn’t really believe he wanted to marry me. It would ruin everything if he asked because I’d have to say no and he’d be so terribly hurt. He did bruise easily like an overly ripe peach. I jumped to my feet, clinked my glass with his and said, “Are you about to congratulate me?”

     He paused. He looked confused. I forged ahead, taking advantage of his surprise.

     “Sophie told you, didn’t she?” I asked.

     “Sophie?” He shook his head. “Told me what?”

     “She offered me a job as creative director for her company, and I accepted,” I said. “Isn’t it amazing? I’m moving to Phoenix. Promise you’ll come and visit.”

     His mouth hung open for a moment, he cleared his throat and said, “Actually, I didn’t know. This was—”

     “So incredibly thoughtful of you,” I said. My voice was high pitched, a little manic, and my smile brittle. I felt as if I were throwing a drowning man a life preserver and he was refusing to take it. “Here’s to new beginnings!” I cried, hoping he’d get with the program and let go of his misguided plan to propose. “Bottoms up.”

     His eyes went wide as I put my glass to my lips and upended the champagne into my mouth. The stress of the moment had me chugging the fizzy beverage, hoping to ease the tension, instead something hard hit the back of my throat and got lodged in my windpipe. Just like that, I couldn’t breathe. I dropped my glass and clutched the front of my neck, trying to get some air. I made horrible gasping noises and staggered. Everything went gray and I started to see spots. 

     “Annabelle!” Jeremy cried. “Oh, my god, you’re choking on the ring!”

     Ring?I would have asked for more details but instead, I blacked out.

Want to read some more? Well, you're going to have to WAIT FOR IT! Yeah, that joke is never going to get old. LOL!

So, tell me, Reds and Readers, have you ever gotten an unwanted proposal? How'd you get out of it?