1) Falling flat on my fanny in a crowded store that I frequented. Lots of people I knew as witnesses and would-be aid-givers. The fall hurt like the devil, flashed heat through me from head to foot, but I bopped back up, as though I were just fine. Despite having broken my pinkie finger. Luckily that was all I broke.

2) (This wouldn’t bother me as much these days, but people were more formal in restaurants when this happened.) Eating in a fancy restaurant with my hard-of-hearing grandmother. She desperately needed hearing aids but refused to get them. We were seated at a small table for two. Her back was to hallway where the waitresses emerged from the kitchen. I told Grandma that my lunch didn’t taste very good. Just as the waitress was coming toward us, staring straight at me, but unseen by my grandmother, Grandma said in a mega-phone voice, “What!? Did you say your food is awful!? That you can’t eat it!?” And no amount of signally on my part would get to stop going on and on until the whole restaurant was staring at us.

3) I flew to Chicago to an RWA Conference one July years ago. (That’s Romance Writers of America.) Since I knew the weather would not only be boiling hot, but more humid that I am acclimated to, I opted to wear a tank top with a built in bra and a little jean shirt over it. When I got to Chicago, I discovered my luggage was lost. That meant I had no conference clothes, and no bra. Since the hotel was downtown, finding something to wear wasn’t a problem, but finding a bra? This doesn’t seem like that much of a problem for people these days, but when this happened, it was totally embarrassing to me.

4) The mall parking lot had been cleared of snow, and the snow scooped into small mounds here and there. My eldest daughter and I were going shopping. I saw a mound and thought I’d give her a little laugh. Hah. I drove with all good intention of plowing into one such mound. I was picturing a fluffy snowy impact. I forgot it was in the low 20s outside that day. The mound was frozen solid. Ack. Lucky I didn’t damage the car. Much. Daughter teased me for years about that one. I was red in the face for half an hour after that.

5) Walking down the aisle of the airplane with TP hanging from the waist of my jeans. Thought my daughter would die laughing. Suggestion to airlines: hang mirrors on the bathroom doors.

A hundred years ago, a tiny town on the Puget Sound attracted a passel of bachelors desperate to marry. Thanks to the miracle of mail order, they did, and Weddingville was born. Hollywood costumer Daryl Anne Blessing knows that story all too well, and she hasn’t missed it, or much else about her hometown – except for hunky photographer Seth Quinlan. Now Daryl Anne returns to Weddingville to see her best friend say I do . . . and witnesses a whole lot of something hitting the fan-and it’s not rice. As the maid of honor, Daryl Anne must keep the bride calm, no matter what. But last time she checked, “what” didn’t include the bride’s estranged mother turning up, scandalizing the locals – and getting herself murdered. Nor did it include digging for clues with Seth, while trying to remember exactly why she left him behind. It’s quite a juggling act, even for a seasoned multi-tasker like Daryl Anne. She soon attracts lusty glances from Seth-and the attention of a killer who’s determined to take this town out of business . . .

About the Author:

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Adrianne Lee lives with her husband of many, many years on the beautiful Olympic Peninsula in Washington State in a pole barn building her husband transformed into an upstairs apartment with a shop below for his hot rods. Adrianne creates her stories on her laptop, in her recliner with her adopted cat, Spooky, curled between her calves, snoozing.

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