Genevieve's Gypsy: The Book Club

By Danni Roan

Genevieve loves to tell a good story. She loves to read a good story, but fighting to get the words on the page is exhausting. As an aspiring writer, Genni joins Book Club looking for inspiration and a chance to tell others about her heartfelt tales. With a mind toward writing a bestselling novel, Genni is completely unprepared for the twist her life will take when she meets the magical matchmaker, Dr. Lachele.

Lee has lived with a prophecy hanging over his head for as long as he can remember. Dedicated to his family and the Gypsy clan, Lee knows he has to follow through with his destiny to save them all.

Can a dream become your real life? Can a dyslexic author find freedom not in the written word but as a traveling storyteller in the heart of true love?

Find out now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Danni Roan
• Release date: May 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201416218

Danni Roan

About the Author Danni Roan, a native of western Pennsylvania, spent her childhood roaming the lush green mountains on horseback. She has always loved westerns and specifically western romance and is thrilled to be part of this exciting genre. She has lived and worked overseas with her husband and tries to incorporate the unique quality of the people she has met throughout the years into her books. Although Danni is a relatively new author on the scene she has been a story teller for her entire life, even causing her mother to remark that as a child “If she told a story, she had to tell the whole story.” Danni is truly excited about this new adventure in writing and hopes that you will enjoy reading her stories as much as she enjoys writing them.

Book preview

Chapter 1

So you’re telling me that you could send me into my very own happily ever after story? Genevieve asked her dark eyes skeptical.

The happy ever after part is mostly your responsibility, Dr. Lachele grinned, her eyes dancing. But I can send you wherever you need to go to meet Mr. Right. The cheerful woman brushed a lock of purple hair from her brow and lifted her frosty mug of root beer, looking at Genni over the rim.

Genevieve leaned back in her chair and rubbed her brow. You know this sounds crazy? Right?

So I’ve heard, Lachele’s dark eyes twinkled with mischief, but several others from the Heartsgate Book Club have already found true love. It’s what matchmakers do, you see.

Genni felt her lips twitch. I don’t even know where I’d want to go.

What would you wish for if you could wish for anything? Lachele leaned over the table, her bowl of Irish stew all but forgotten. Genevieve Jones had asked the matchmaker turned fairy godmother to meet at the Twisted Kilt. The pub sat next to the Heartsgate library where Book Club met each week and was noisy enough that onlookers wouldn’t overhear the odd conversation. Genni had wanted to discuss the possibilities of a little magic in her life. Lachele, founder and operator of Matchrimony, had recently been granted the ability to send the lovelorn into, well, the time, place, or series of their heart's desire.

Having exhausted her last bevy of book-clubbers, Lachele had set out to find a new one. Here in Heartsgate, she had found just what she wanted: a group of men and womenwho longed for true love and a romance worthy of the pages of a book.

I don’t know. Genni propped her elbows on the table, bracing her head in her hands. Working her fingers through her long brown hair, Genni lifted her eyes to the smiling, purple-haired lady who had created controlled chaos in Book Club.

Aren’t you an author? Lachele nibbled a potato, her eyes fixed on the young woman across from her. She had seen Genni sitting in the back of the library’s meeting room, laptop on her knees as she pecked at the keys. The pretty young woman was usually early to the book club and though she shared about her favorite books frequently, Genni tended to be quieter than some of the other women who attended.

Genni squirmed. Uh, yeah.

Then surely you have an idea of somewhere or when that you’d like to visit.

Genni slumped. I love stories, she admitted. They take you to new places where you meet fascinating people and have wonderful adventures.

Is that the type of thing you write?

Genevieve blushed. Yes, I have so many stories in my head and in my heart.

Then what’s the problem? Lachele’s voice was quiet.

Genevieve pushed a carrot around her bowl with her fork before she spoke. It’s easier to show you. Releasing her fork, she reached for the bag on the bench next to her, pulling out her laptop. A minute later, she spun it toward Lachele, her face bright red.

What am I looking at? Lachele asked, scanning the page.

You’ll see it.

Oh. Dr. Lachele looked up, meeting the young woman’s weary eyes. At least people say they like your stories.

Yes, everyone says I’m a wonderful storyteller, but... she bit her lip. All the editing comments hurt.

What seems to be the problem? Can’t you hire an editor?

I have, and that has mostly fixed the problem, but it is so exhausting and discouraging.

You have dyslexia, don’t you?

Genni dropped her gaze, nodding. I love telling stories. I have so many stories inside, and I want to share them, but at the rate I work and the level of extra work every sentence needs, I can barely manage to get a book out there.

So you’re a storyteller with a handicap. Lachele’s statement wasn’t harsh, only honest.

Genni sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. I just want my stories to be the best. I want people to laugh, cry, yell, and be happy when they read them. I can imagine their faces as they experience the emotions and adventures on each page. Genevieve waved her hand at the computer. But it hurts every time someone says something like that, she waved at the computer, when I work so hard to make it right.

A slow smile spread across Lachele’s face and she reached out, patting Genni on the hand. What if you lived in a place and time where you could tell your stories without all the extra fuss?

That would be amazing, Genni sat straighter as her eye caught a glimpse of the clock over the bar. It’s almost time for book club, she said, shoving her laptop into her bag. Do you truly think you could help me?

I think so. Lachele practically sparkled with excitement. Let’s go to Book Club, and when you’re ready to make a wish, we will see what happens.

Genni nodded, dropping a tip on the table and reaching for the bill, but a beautifully manicured hand grabbed it first.

This one’s on me, Lachele chuckled. I’ll see you upstairs in the library.

Thank you, Genni blushed lightly, touched by the other woman’s kindness. Dr. Lachele had come as a bit of a shock to the Heartsgate Book Club. The psychologist and modern-day matchmaker had shown up unexpectedly looking nothing like everyone’s favorite fairy godmother but promising to deliver on her brand of bippity–bobity-boo.

Genevieve shrugged into her coat and walked out into the brisk New York spring. What would she do if she could go somewhere else and find someone who would love her for who she was and be able to overlook her shortcomings?

A cold breeze skidded a faded newspaper along the sidewalk as Genni looked up at the library. It was an unusual building with the older part paring seamlessly with the newer structure. Heartsgate wasn’t a big town, but it had almost everything she could ever need. Almost.

Something large and furry rubbed against Genni’s boots and she looked down at a massive calico cat who purred loudly at her feet.

You must be one of the strays from the Calico Café, she said, squatting and scratching the big battle-scarred cat behind the ear. You’d better get inside before it gets too late, she chided, otherwise you’ll be left out in the cold.

Genni thought of the scathing review she had just shown Dr. Lachele and sighed. The words had left her sad, discouraged, and considering giving up her chosen profession.

The cat meowed, stretching a paw up her pant leg as if in encouragement, then trotted off around the corner of the Irish pub leaving Genevieve to walk to the library on her own.

***

Genni opened her laptop, checking the reviews on her single published work one more time and then skipping over to her newest work in progress. She scanned the words, her eyes falling on one she knew didn’t look right, but she didn’t know why. Was it I before E, or some other nonsensical rule that was catching her out Some days it felt like all the words she had ever known were written on an enormous blackboard in her brain and that someone had randomly wiped out a few dozen, leaving no hint as to how to form them again. Genni rubbed her brow, concentrating as she waited for Book Club to start.

She was so focused on trying to work out the word she didn’t notice Dr. Lachele joining the group or Wendy calling the meeting to order.

The background noise of the book club members was a pleasant buzz in her ears as she focused on the misbehaving word, determined to figure out why it looked so wrong.

Genni? Wendy’s voice finally pulled her out of her reverie. Do you have something to share?

Oh! Sorry. Genni snapped her laptop shut and stood, adjusting her old shoulder bag across her middle. I’m sorry, she said again, blushing as she looked around her, confidence waning. I’m afraid I got lost. She waved a hand in the direction of her chair and laptop.

That’s alright, Wendy said patiently. Did you bring a book?

Yes, Genni smiled, looking at the kind open faces of the other women and a few men. I just finished a Christmas story from the wild west. She launched into the story, her voice rising and falling over each exciting portion as she encouraged others to fall into the tale.

You make that story sound so good, Lachele smiled as Genni finished. You truly are a storyteller.

Genni beamed, looking around the room, her eyes coming to rest on Dr. Lachele again. I wish I could live in a time when all I had to do was tell my story to an audience without having to write it down.

The room seemed to shimmer around Genevieve, and she dabbed at her eyes to see if she had started to cry, but her hand was dry as everything tilted, spun, and faded to black.