9EC2E28F-4273-41EE-B249-BA94C21FF987 9EC2E28F-4273-41EE-B249-BA94C21FF987
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Symphony Willis is getting married.

A Modern Mail Order Bride, Book 13 (Oklahoma) You're not just marrying a man. You marry the entire family. Prepare for all the love, loads of laughs, and a cast of characters that will stay with you, long after the story is over. Come fall in love with me. The best is yet to be.

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3dQYXz9


Outside of the building, the warm air hit her face, reminding her the seasons were changing. Everything around her was changing and blossoming and Symphony believed she was the one bud on the tree yet to sprout. At times, she felt like Charlie Brown’s sad little Christmas tree with stunted branches, unable to reach its full potential. Sighing, she wanted help, but didn’t know exactly what to ask for or whom to ask.

Halfway down the sidewalk, she took out her phone and dialed her big sister. Melody Willis Simjak, a famous pop star who had recently married a wilderness outfitter and moved to Maine, was expecting her first child. Well, children based on what she’d told the family. Weekly, Symphony checked in with Melody to touch base, share a laugh and keep in touch.

Melody answered, sounding as if she’d hummed through better mornings. “Hey Sissy. How are you?”

“The question is, how are you? You sound awful,” Symphony added.

“Morning sickness. Are you leaving therapy?”

“In more ways than one. I’ve had it with that woman, Sis. I want to be happy and find my way through the wilderness of my next leg of this stupid journey, but I don’t want to travel the road alone,” she sighed into the line. “My fear is that I may once again get desperate and go back to that fool who likes to motorboat my boodie hole. Speaking of butt holes, hey, how did you meet Lakota? You never did say.”

The line was quiet and suddenly her phone beeped. Symphony pulled the phone away from her ear to see the text. It was from her sister. She questioned what the message meant. Melody told her in a rush of words.

“Go to that address. Don’t think about it, just go. Tell her I sent you,” Melody said. “I have to go; I’m going to lose my breakfast. Good luck.”

“Sis! Wait! Hold up a minute,” Symphony called out but Melody was gone. The text provided an address. Nothing more, just an address. “Well, might as well.”

Currently, she stood on the corner of 6th Avenue and the address was within three blocks off her office in Midtown. Hailing a cab, she rode the 18 blocks to the address on Avenue of the Americas. Uncertain of what she was looking at since there was no placard on the building, she double-checked the address and made for the door. The scents of warm scones, flowery tea and the aroma of star anise welcomed her through the door.

Inside the office was only one desk, a couch and three computers facing the wall. Symphony opened and closed the door again, looking around for a shopkeeper or a store owner. A woman, brunette, with dazzling green eyes appeared, it seemed out of nowhere.

“Hold up! Where did you come from? I was just looking over there and nobody was there and I turned around and there you were! What in the hell?” Symphony said reaching for the door handle.

“Why Symphony Willis, I’ve been expecting you. A year ago, but better late than never, eh?”

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