Rachel Gibson - Sex, Lies, And Online Dating

After a fierce game of rock paper scissors, Clare won the position of maid of honor during cocktail night. Clare being Clare, she took the honor seriously and threw herself into the job. She arranged a beautiful bachelorette party and offered Lucy her great-grandmother’s Tiffany pearls to wear as “something borrowed.” On the day of the wedding, she forgot the pearls and had to race home to get them. She made it back fifteen minutes before preceding her friends down the aisle. Ever the thoughtful and responsible person, she stood stiff and attentive as Lucy said her vows.

The wedding reception took place at the Double Tree Hotel next to the Boise River. The guests gorged themselves on beef tips, chicken cordon bleu, and, of all things, weenie mac-which the McIntyre clan scarfed like manna from heaven. As the bride and groom took to the floor for their first dance, Clare took up a position by the bar. No one noticed her drinking more than her usual two glasses of wine until she threw off her shoes and attacked the dance floor like she’d come down with boogie fever.

After bumping and grinding her way through “Hot Legs,” Maddie and Adele pulled her aside and asked if she was okay. She simply gave them her perfect Clare smile and said, “I’m fine.”

But an hour later she disappeared, and Maddie and Adele were forced to leave the reception in search of her. They walked down the long hall, passed a Dale Carnegie dinner, and peeked into a large room stuffed with men of all shapes and stripes. The room had a cash bar next to a stage with a spotlight and karaoke machine.

Looking for all the world like an escapee from prom night, Clare Wingate stood center stage in front of an Idaho Steelheads hockey banner. The usually reserved, dignified, and obsessively self-contained romance writer held a wineglass in one hand and a microphone in the other while she belted out a song about a skinny lad.

Maddie and Adele looked at each other, twin expressions of shock rounding their mouths.

“What the hell is she singing?” Adele asked as they returned their attention to the stage. “Did she just say ‘big fat fanny’? That sounds like Queen.”

“Oh my God.” Maddie gasped. “I think it’s Fat Bottomed Girls.”

The men watching the performance whooped and hollered and cheered Clare on as she went into the chorus and begged them to take her home tonight.

Together Maddie and Adele shoved their way through the crowd, two spots of pink froufrou among a throng of muscle-bound men. Something was wrong. Something terrible had happened in Clare’s world. Whatever it was, was bad. Real bad. Bad enough to force the wheels off her perfect pony cart.

I would like to express my gratitude to Homicide Detective Danny R. Smith for his help in the writing of this book. A twenty-one-year veteran of the Los Angeles County’s Sheriff’s Department, Officer Smith’s assistance was invaluable and went above and beyond the call of duty. Any mistakes are mine, as is any use of creative license. I would also like to thank fellow writer and friend Candis Terry for her answer to my frantic “help me” e-mail. Candis, you really came through.

RACHEL GIBSON’s first two romance novels- Simply Irresistible and Truly Madly Yours -were named among the Top Ten Favorite Books of the Year by Romance Writers of America. And in 2002 True Confessions was awarded the RITA® for the Best Single Title Contemporary Romance of the Year. She has won numerous awards, including the Golden Heart and National Reader’s Choice.

Readers can write to Rachel Gibson at

P.O. Box 4124, Boise, Idaho 83711-4124, or

visit her website at www.rachelgibson.com.