Millie Criswell: Staying Single

Dear Reader,

I’m very excited to be writing the launch title for Harlequin Flipside. Harlequin has taken the best of the genre known as “chick lit” and combined it with the enduring appeal of romance. The result is stories with a little edge and attitude, but with the happily-ever-after ending that most readers, including myself, insist on and love.

I hope you enjoy reading Francie and Mark’s story, Staying Single. And I hope you liked meeting the wonderful and wacky Morelli family, whom you’ll be seeing more of in Lisa Morelli’s story coming in 2004. Lisa definitely marches to the beat of her own drum, and I hope you’ll follow along behind her as she tries to unravel the mess her life has become.

As always, I would love to hear your comments on Staying Single, so please write to me at P.O. Box 41206, Fredericksburg, Virginia 22404 or visit my Web site at www.milliecriswell.com.

Best always,

Millie Criswell

Mark’s gaze switched between the sofa bed and Francie, as if trying to gauge her reaction.

Optimism was all well and good, but she didn’t think this was the time for it. It was one thing to be stranded in a small apartment overnight, but another thing entirely to have to share an even smaller bed.

“As much as I’d like to accommodate you, Mark, I don’t think it would be a good idea to share this bed.” How would she ever keep her hands off him?

“Tell you what. I promise to be on my best behavior. You can go in the bathroom and change. I’ll close my eyes until you’re safely under the covers, then I’ll hop in. How does that sound?”

It sounded indecently delicious, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“I don’t know….”

“Please? I’m too old and too much of a wuss to sleep on the floor.” He reinforced his plea with a persuading grin that she was incapable of resisting.

She was so in trouble….

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To Stef Ann Holm:

Thank you for your friendship and support.

And for being my dieting buddy!

Millie Criswell, USA TODAY bestselling author and winner of a Romantic Times Career Achievement Award and a National Readers Choice Award, has published over twenty-three romance novels. She began her writing career when her husband uttered those prophetic words: “Why don’t you try writing one of those romances you’re always reading?” Knowing that her dream of tap dancing with the Rockettes wasn’t likely to materialize—due to a lack of dancing talent—Millie jumped on the idea with both feet, so to speak, and has been charming readers with hilarious stories and sparkling characters ever since. Millie resides in Virginia with her husband and loveable Boston terrier.

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

810—THE WEDDING PLANNER

863—THE PREGNANT MS. POTTER

HARLEQUIN HISTORICALS

508—THE MARRYING MAN

579—A WESTERN FAMILY CHRISTMAS

“Christmas Eve”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Harlequin Flipside! If you love a dash of wit and cleverness with your romance, then this is the line for you. These stories are for readers who appreciate that, if love makes the world go around, the ride is a lot more fun with a few laughs along the way.

Leading off the launch, we have USA TODAY bestselling author Millie Criswell with Staying Single. This heroine is determined to remain single—three almost weddings is enough for one girl, isn’t it?—no matter what her marriage-focused mother says. But after meeting a certain photojournalist, she just might have second thoughts….

Rounding out the month is Stephanie Doyle’s One True Love? Believing that each person has only one true love, our heroine is in a bit of a dilemma. Turns out that the guy she picked isn’t the same guy who’s captured her thoughts. This calls for some rearranging…fast!

Look for two Harlequin Flipside books every month at your favorite bookstore. And check us out online at www.HarlequinFlipside.com. We hope you enjoy this new line of romantic comedy stories.

See you next month!

Wanda Ottewell

Editor

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Executive Editor

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IT WAS A BAD DAY for a wedding.

Francie Morelli gazed down the red-carpeted aisle toward the altar, where her handsome husband-to-be, Matt Carson, all smiles and nervous perspiration in a black Armani tux, awaited her arrival, and knew this with a certainty.

Though unlike Matt, Francie wasn’t nervous, just panicked. The kind of panic you get when you can’t catch your breath or feel as though you might throw up.

Okay, so maybe she was a teensy bit nervous.

Even though she’d done the wedding thing twice before and knew what to expect. Not that she had ever actually made it all the way to the altar and said her “I dos.”

Not that she would get that far this time, either.

Swallowing with some difficulty at the dangerous thoughts going through her mind, she tried to ignore the “Run, Francie, run!” mantra currently playing to the tune of “Burn, Baby, Burn” from Disco Inferno, the song so popular in the 70s.

The choice of music was a bad omen. Burning in hell was a likely possibility if she didn’t go through with this wedding, which was probably the lesser of the two evils, because she knew Josephine Morelli’s punishment would be far worse. Traveling on her mother’s guilt trips was like taking a go-cart tour of hell.

Through her blush veil—flapping like a leaf in high wind due to her labored breathing—she could see her mother, dressed in a lovely, silk, teal-blue dress, hands locked in prayer and supplication, pleading with the Almighty to let her daughter have the courage to go through with the ceremony this time. The older woman’s tear-filled eyes—Francie knew there were tears because her mother liked to make a good showing at public events (funerals were her specialty)—were fixed on the massive gold crucifix hanging above the altar, as if by sheer will alone she could command God to do her bidding, as Josephine had commanded Francie so many times before.

Fortunately for the world at large, God seemed to have a stronger backbone than Francie.

A hushed silence surrounded her as those in attendance waited to see if she would actually go through with the ceremony. Aunt Flo was biting her nails to the quick, while Grandma Abrizzi had her rosary beads clacking at top speed. No one could recite the rosary faster than Loretta Abrizzi, who was a definite contender for the Guinness Book of World Records.

Francie’s sixteen-year-old brother, Jack, had taken perverse delight in explaining that several of the male guests, her uncles in particular, had placed bets on the outcome of today’s event. The odds were five-to-one that she would never see her wedding night.