Plenty of authors are autobuys for me, but only a few make it onto my calendar so I’m sure to get their books right away … like the fab Kristan Higgins, who has a new release this week: THE BEST MAN. Better yet, because the hero is a veteran, she’s donating a portion of the first week sales to Fisher House foundation (like the Ronald McDonald house for military families, so they can be together when a family member is in the hospital), and an awesome reader has agreed to match whatever she raises. So pick it up this week!
Here’s the blurb for THE BEST MAN:
Sometimes the best man is the one you least expect…
Faith Holland left her hometown after being jilted at the altar. Now a little older and wiser, she's ready to return to the Blue Heron Winery, her family's vineyard, to confront the ghosts of her past, and maybe enjoy a glass of red. After all, there's some great scenery there….
Like Levi Cooper, the local police chief—and best friend of her former fiancé. There's a lot about Levi that Faith never noticed, and it's not just those deep green eyes. The only catch is she's having a hard time forgetting that he helped ruin her wedding all those years ago. If she can find a minute amidst all her family drama to stop and smell the rosé, she just might find a reason to stay at Blue Heron, and finish that walk down the aisle.
Here are a couple of buy links for you:
Reading the early (glowing!) reviews of THE BEST MAN got me thinking about wedding “oops” moments—not the ones where it gets called off, but those inevitable little stumbles that, for better or worse (ha) are often remembered long after the I do’s.
When Arizona and I got married, I planned a low-key wedding in less than three months, partly because that’s our style, and partly because his mom teaches abroad and would be in the States for her summer vacation. So I rented a pretty local historical house with a nice garden, found a hall where I could bring in food rather than catering, and bought the perfect dress for a hundred bucks off Ebay. Arizona did his part by hiring the world’s sweetest Justice of the Peace and renting a tux and shoes, even though I told him he could wear whatever he wanted, including flip-flops.
The wedding wound up being one of the hottest days of one of the hottest New England summers on record, but everyone assembled cheerfully that evening, steaming gently in our fancy clothes. Without any real fanfare, Arizona and I took our places under the pretty little arbor and the JP began the ceremony. She had just gotten to the “do you, Arizona, take this woman…” when I blurted, “Oh, crap. The rings are still in the car!”
Yes, folks, I interrupted my own wedding.
Arizona got this horrified look on his face and hightailed it out to the parking lot (in brutal heat wearing a rented tux with the thermal properties of an electric blanket and the breathability of a Hefty bag). Meanwhile, I stood up there trying not to giggle-snort, and fielding catcalls of “Is he coming back?”
He did, of course, and we started over with the rings, and everything else went perfectly. I’m not really a wedding person, but I have very fond memories of my own. It was exactly right for Arizona and me, even down to the “oops” moment. Because the guests’ memories of the details will fade over time, but I have a feeling that our wedding will long echo in family lore as: “Remember when Arizona had to run back to the car for the rings?” (Well, that and "Remember how Arizona ripped off most of his tux about five seconds after the ceremony finished?" but in his defense, it was either that or pass out from sunstroke. Snicker.)