Title: Mirror, Mirror
Author: Tami Lund
Except that crazy old woman won't leave her alone, and the more frequently she and her jack-o-lantern with the ever-changing carved faces show up, the more Adelle begins to wonder... Are she and Ben meant to be more than friends?
This book is not meant to be read by readers who are looking for a serious, boring read with a tragic ending. Only fans of funny and everlasting romance should pick this one up.
The inside of the tent was bare save for piles of silken material strewn on the floor and an elderly woman who sat in a throne-like chair, a small round table before her. A squat, grinning jack-o-lantern and a fat red candle with a bright, tall flame were perched on the table. The candle and the carved pumpkin were the only lights in the tent, but they clearly illuminated the woman who sat behind them.
The woman who, by Adelle’s judgment, looked to be approximately a thousand years old. Her face was heavily lined, her cheeks sagged, her nose was crooked. She wore a brightly colored scarf on her head, wispy gray hairs sticking out from under the silky material. Her body was covered with the same type of peasant shirt and billowing skirt that Adelle wore, except it was uncomfortably obvious she wasn’t wearing a cleavage-enhancing bra, because her breasts hung somewhere in the vicinity of her knees.
“Quit staring at me, girl. You’ll look like this someday, too, if you’re lucky.”
“Lucky,” the woman said, as if Adelle had repeated the word out loud. “You wanna know how many hunks I had in my day? There’s a reason I look so worn out.”
Tami writes paranormal and contemporary romance, often with a dose of suspense. Chances are, there is a new book coming out soon. Be sure to stalk her on social media, so you know when.
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“You only see what you want to see,” Vivienne replied as she reached for a second slice of pizza. “And just to clarify, offering to go to the flea market with your hunky roommate does not qualify as a date. If you spend the night before banging his brains out, then it might qualify as a date.”
“It doesn’t have to be all about sex, you know.”
“Sure it does. You already have everything else with him. He’s your best friend, your roommate, and he’s hotter than the area between my thighs—what? Don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. Surely you’ve gotten all hot and bothered … no, wait, you probably haven’t. Otherwise, I cannot imagine why you have not yet figured out a way to convince that man to clean out your cobwebs with his womb broom.”
“You are the most depraved woman I have ever met.”
“I’m the most right woman you have ever met,” Vivienne corrected. “I would bet you my mirror that once you finally cream that boy’s Twinkie, you won’t let him up for air for a nice long time.”