Wedding bells, wake up bells

By Marjan Emmerson

I am a strong believer in love, soul mates and happily ever after. I write romances because being a pessimist in this world is easy, being an optimist requires great courage.

But even I couldn't see the champagne glass as half full if I married Eric. Eric is a decent man and for someone else, he will be a dream man. But he wasn't MY man.

What does that man to look like?

I don't know yet. I do however believe he will surprise me, make me want to laugh and dance. I would like to stand in my wedding dress and not even for a second do I want to doubt that he is the man I want to experience lives' beautiful and dark moments with. I want him to sneak into my room on our wedding day and kiss me until someone catches us because we know that superstition is far weaker than our love.

So this is why I didn't marry Eric, for me ... and for him.

He deserves that... and so do I.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marjan Emmerson
• Release date: May 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393780366

Marjan Emmerson

Marjan Emmerson is a badass with soft place for puppy dogs. She studied Journalism and Art History, and has a feminist spirit she inherited from her mother. Food and handbags are her preferred methods to be bribed. After six years working as a publisher, fulfilling others writing dreams, she decide of it is time to follow her own. Unlike most writers, she can't stand wine, but know Cristina Yang had it right with tequila. Her own Prince charming seems to have lost his way, but she as a weakness for fictional boys with messy dark hair, green eyes and a sassy personality!

Book preview

Wedding Bells

Wake up bells

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I would rather have 30 minutes of WONDERFUL, than a lifetime of nothing special.

– Julia Roberts

Chapter 1

@LIWTTB Don’t you just love happily ever after’s?

Exciting news! Our favorite romance author @BehatiThomas is engaged! And @LIWTTB is invited – not just to the wedding, but to everything! 

I said no, Kate. Behati can feel the headache forming at the back of her head. She has been arguing with her editor for the past ten minutes and she is losing. 

Behati, be strategic about this. Kate’s voice has taken on her boardroom tone, which meant there was no room for arguing. "You are a romance writer about to get married. It started over wine! will be available in three months and one of the most popular wedding blogs wants to interview you ... you for their blog. Surely you can see the marketing gods are at work here?" 

Yes, she could and any author with their tequila salt knew that the author as an artiste was an extinct species. Authors had to be entrepreneurs to survive and earn some money. But ... I just want this time for myself and to keep my wedding to Eric private.

I’m sorry, she stated, sounding anything but apologetic. Being private doesn’t sell books. People want to get to know you – the author behind the cover, and they want to be a part of your love story. 

I know ... 

Kate sighs over the line. Look, this will secure you another three-book deal and may lead to bigger royalties. Publishing houses love authors who bring more than a manuscript to the table. It is a smart business arrangement. 

You’ve already said yes, didn’t you? Behati wonders why she didn’t see this from the beginning. It is exactly what Kate would do. The woman was used to getting what she wants and where most people heard ‘no’, she hears: ‘not yet’. It was what made her great editor because she is always pushing her writers to develop to the next level. Great for their careers, terrible for their nerves.

Kate ... she sighs and knows she’s going to relent. Just make sure that we get to read each post before it’s published. Okay?

Will do. See you next Tuesday. Her editor hangs up before she could answer.

Pushy Katie? Her best friend, Carisja, takes a sip from her Pina Colada and rolls her eyes. Her friend doesn’t like her pushy editor, because she thinks that the company could do more to market her books.

Rubbing her temples, Behati picks up her own margarita. After her phone call with Kate, she needed a bottle Jack Daniels. Yes, the wedding blog, Lady-In-Waiting To The Bride, wants to do a bridal profile series on my wedding to Eric.

A sort of ‘romance writer lives her own love story’ series? It sounds a bit on the nose, but it will be good marketing for Wine. Her best friend’s eyebrows lift, but she didn’t say what she means. In fact, Carisja has been biting her tongue since she got engaged. She didn’t like Eric, and the loathing was mutual. She tried to remain neutral, but sometimes she wonders when she will be forced to choose.    

It probably will be, but I just wanted ... She just wanted to get used to the idea of getting married, becoming someone’s wife, before she exposes herself to the world. She looks down at her ring, and smiles because it truly is stunning! She loved it since the moment Eric slide it onto her finger.

The Chelsea pink two-tone design set in 18K rose gold and platinum looked beautiful on her finger, but also highlighted her unmanicured fingers. It features pink argyle pavé framing the gallery. It fitted her finger beautifully, but it got in the way when she was writing.

Just wanted what?

Behati looks up when the waiter puts their pizza’s down in front of them. Greek for her, and barbecue chicken for Carisja. I just want to keep this for myself. Just for a bit.

Well, that is understandable. It is a special moment in your life, and you want to keep it sacred. A piece of chicken drops off her pizza, and her best friend takes a second bite.  

Feeling the warmth spreading from her chest, she looks down to see if her heart glows ala Jane The Virgin. Yes, sacred. She also wanted to share the moment with her mother and Carisja. Her rose-tinted bridal gaze has been missing since they got engaged. Maybe because they, her people, weren’t there when Eric proposed.

Eric’s lips were warm, soft and comforting when she entered his garden for their standard Thursday evening date night. She folded her hands behind the back of his neck and deepening the kiss. She hadn’t seen him all week, she had been so busy with the first draft of her latest novel and working on a free novella for the subscribers of her newsletter.

When she pulled back, she smiled and pressed kisses all over his face. Trying to reconnect with Eric. Smelling the scent of a fresh-cooked meal, Behati pulled back. You cooked? she couldn’t hide her surprise. Eric hated cooking and made no effort to hide his traditional and slightly chauvinistic belief that the kitchen was a woman’s domain.  

On their date nights, he usually orders from a restaurant or expects her to make something and bring it to his house.

No, I did, said his mother, Annabeth, as she came out from they were hiding. Her future mother-in-law intimidated the daylights out of her. With her pastel cardigans and string of pearls around her neck, she looks like the perfect docile preacher’s wife, but the woman was the chairwoman of the biggest women’s club in the city. Her future father-in-law may stand behind the altar every Wednesday and Saturday, but the woman behind him was his strength.

Pastor Steven Birks or her soon-to-be father-in-law smiled down and kissed her cheek, before moving to the table. He was clearly in the mood for his wife’s meal.

Fighting off the regret that they haven’t had more time for themselves, Behati smiled and return the European cheek kiss. As she pulled back, she watches as her future mother-in-law hugs her boy- ... fiancé, before opening her arms to welcome her for a hug. 

Oh, wonderful. Thank you, she moves into Annabeth’s embrace. When she stands back, she looks around, and she turns to Eric. Where is my mom?

His mouth opens and closes before it dawns on her. Her mother wasn’t invited or her fiancé didn’t think about it. Behati doesn’t know what felt worse. The disappointment feels like an aloe dark bitter center in a decadent chocolate cake.

She looks up from the ring, which feels foreign on her finger and sees her in-laws looking uncomfortable. Just before she can say something Annabeth sheppard’s them to the table, which is set for four people.

This looks delicious, she compliments, trying to regain the joyous feeling. The food will be amazing because her soon-to-be second mother can cook. On the table was tenderloin with honey-ginger sauce, baked potatoes, and roasted vegetables. 

The pop of the champagne pulls her attention back to the moment. Live in this moment, she lectures herself. Be here, make memories and share it with her mother and her best friend.

A toast, Pastor Steven lift his champagne glass and they follow his lead. To our new daughter. His eyes sparkle in the fairy lights. "May God