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Wait Watchers

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Men definitely make passes at gals who wear glasses or are nearly blind without them. Romance rules in Wait Watchers!
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Rating: 4/5
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Author: Elle Druskin
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Wait Watchers

by Elle Druskin

The Liberty Heights Series

Imprint  MuseItUp

Genre  Romantic Humor

Tags  Romance, romantic humor, small town romance, series, contemporary romance

Release  June 20, 2014

Editor  Gloria Oren

Line Editor  Val Haley

Cover Designer  Winterheart Designs

Words  52412

Pages  229

ISBN  978-1-77127-557-6

Price  $5.50


 Back Cover

Straightlaced literary agent Portia Hart is hiding out in Liberty Heights from a crazed writer. She’s sprained her ankle, minus her eyeglasses and can’t see a thing. Newly widowed Truman Wilder is home after a mystery surrounding his wife’s death. The last thing he needs is Portia, but this is Liberty Heights, where lunacy and romance abound. Portia’s stuck at LouAnn Freedbush’s bed and breakfast. Sister BettyAnn is hysterical due to her eviction from Registered Witches of America. Uncle Rupert Freedbush is big game hunting in the backyard. Why? Because Uncle Rupert insists he’s Ernest Hemingway.

The Valentine clan snatched the property Truman needs for his optometry business. They want to open a florist shop. The Valentines are experts thanks to attending loads of funerals only nobody knows where the bodies are buried. This is New Jersey, after all.

Portia isn’t sure how it happened but Elmo, an Alaskan Malamute, has been left in her custody. Elmo’s diet consists of her shoes. What does Wayne, the psychic beagle say about this? How did everyone end up at 1920s Parisian Lost Generation party? Will Elmo eat the town out of footwear?

Men definitely make passes at gals who wear glasses or are nearly blind without them. Romance rules in Wait Watchers!


Excerpt

Unable to contain her curiosity, Portia squinted out the window. She pressed her nose against the glass. Wayne leaned against her thigh. Obviously, Wayne was a lot smarter, or possibly, more fearful than LouAnn. The beagle clearly had no intention of sprinting out the back door with that old man still armed out there.

The front door banged open. Bud and Truman marched into the kitchen and glanced at the Valentines, all armed to the teeth. BettyAnn flounced past them. LouAnn’s boyfriend Howie shouted from the second floor.

“Me and Simon have a clear shot from the upstairs bathroom.”

BettyAnn yelled back. “Don’t shoot. It’s Uncle Rupert.”

“Rupert Freedbush? Oh brother,” Truman mumbled. He stooped next to the kitchen table and poked his head underneath.

“It’s safe for you to come out now. Whatever you do, don’t tell Rupert you’re a literary agent, or he’ll yak your head off.”

Portia stared at him. Truman must be going nuts too. It must be something to do with the water. Or the air. Or some weird electrical charge that only affected people in Liberty Heights.

He slipped an arm around her waist and helped her scramble to her feet.

“Boy, we’re in for it now,” Bud muttered.

Portia glanced from Truman to Bud. Serious expressions morphed into amusement.

“What’s going on?” Portia asked. Her temper was at all-time high. Scared half to death and nobody seemed the slightest bit concerned. The Valentines lowered their weapons. Portia wasn’t sure which was scarier; a pack of Valentines armed like a SWAT team or the old guy out in the yard.

Footsteps scraped on the back door steps. Alice steamed into the kitchen clutching the confiscated rifle. LouAnn followed with one hand hooked around the old guy’s elbow. She steered him into the kitchen.

“This is such a nice surprise. We’re so excited to have you here,” LouAnn said.

The man harrumphed. “Of course you are. Everyone is celebrity mad.” He shook off LouAnn’s hand, pivoted and glared at Alice.

“I demand my rifle back,” he shouted.

“Nothing doing,” Alice snapped.

“Alice is right,” LouAnn said. “No safari. It’s winter. All the animals are hibernating.”

“Alice?” The old man’s eyes narrowed on the police chief. “No wonder I didn’t recognize you, Miss Toklas. You’ve put on weight. Gertrude’s cooking must agree with you.”

“Thanks a bunch,” Alice muttered.

The old man eyed the crowd. Portia estimated the man was in his sixties although she couldn’t be sure. Stocky and slightly bowlegged, he was dressed in khaki pants, a safari jacket, and a topee. Confusion marred his round face, and his stubby fingers stroked his salt and pepper moustache and beard. A glimmer of a smile lit his features. He folded his arms over his chest and bowed to Portia in a rather courtly gesture. The smile widened to a grin.

“Lovely to see you again, my dear. As fetching as always.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Portia’s eyes widened as he turned to Truman.

“Still married to the most exquisite woman in Paris. Some men have all the luck. You two should have come to Pamplona with us.”

“How was the running of the bulls?” Bud asked.

“Exciting as always. Spain is so inspiring Pablo. You should go home more often.”

Pablo? Portia shot a furtive glance at all the others. The Valentines all wore confused expressions. Alice’s face dripped of resignation. Bud and Truman seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“You remember Ernest,” Truman said and squeezed Portia’s hand. Tom tom pain thudded in Portia’s temples. She was getting the mother of all headaches. Plus, she didn’t have the faintest idea what the heck was going on. The old man snorted.

“Of course Zelda remembers me. No need to get a swelled head, Scott.”

“Zelda?”

Portia’s legs, still shaky from the sprain, gave way. She lowered herself into the kitchen chair.

“Surely you remember Hemingway. He’s so fond of you Zelda. Maybe a little too fond,” Truman said. He shot a dark glance at the old man.

Portia thunked her head on the table. For Pete’s sake. Every time she thought things couldn’t possibly get worse, somehow, they magically deteriorated to an entire new level.

If she wasn’t mistaken, the old guy thought he was Ernest Hemingway.

This wasn’t possible. It was insane. Maybe she should sign herself away for treatment. Was she the only person who thought this was crazy?

 


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Reviews

Tuesday, 12 August 2014
Elle Druskin has done it again. I was thrilled when I received Wait Watchers as a gift since I've read all the other Liberty Heights books beginning with Animal Crackers. Each time Ms. Druskin brings her readers to Liberty Heights, she introduces another zany character. She always manages to create romance between two people who are sure they're not at all interested in each other. I love how she brings back characters from her previous books, so the reader can keep up with what's been happening around town. Liberty Heights is a delightful "New Jersey" town peopled with characters who remain true to themselves. If it were a real town, I would be looking at real estate for sale! Thanks Elle for a delightful new book.
Penny Ehrenkranz

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