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Mary Paine

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Member Since: Dec, 2008

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Never Trust A Matchmaking witch
by Mary Paine   

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Publisher:  BookStrand, Inc. ISBN-10:  1606012223


Copyright:  December 3, 2008 ISBN-13:  9781606012222

BookStrand, Inc.
Mary Paine's Web Site

A group of fun-loving witches’ favorite hobby is matchmaking for their mortal friends, including Susan and Brad. But when Susan first encounters their powers, including a wolf-whistling cabinet and a disappearing cat, she begins to wonder if Brad’s passion for her is real or part of a spell.

Susan has some amazing fantasies about Dr. Brad Conway.  Unfortunately, when she’s anywhere near the handsome surgeon, she’s a tongue-tied catastrophe.  Along comes Brad’s friend Alicia, a horse trainer with a talent for magic and matchmaking.  Trapped at Alicia’s home during an ice storm, Susan is thrilled to be on the receiving end of some fascinating, sensual advances from Brad.  But when she keeps encountering magical occurrences like a wolf-whistling cabinet, spoons stirring by themselves and a cat with an unerring ability to appear and disappear, not to mention change its own collar, she must decide if she believes in magic.  But believing has a downside, however, because now she has a new problem to consider.  Is Brad’s passion for her real or is it part of a spell? 


Here's the first excerpt from Never Trust A Matchmaking Witch:

He's flirting with me again. Susan did a quick tap dance to the table. Now if I could only calm down and try for a little sophistication, she thought. I'm certainly dressed for the part. She fingered the soft sweater she wore and glanced back at the kitchen. Candlelight, a handsome man, an outfit that made her feel beautiful. It seemed too good to be true.

"How's it going?' Brad poked his head around the door.

"Oh." Susan jumped. "Sorry. I'm on it."

"I'll grab the rest," Brad said, moving to the table with a soft smile for her.

Susan's mouth opened, and to her consternation no words came out. She could feel the heat suffusing her face again, too. Hurriedly she backed through the door and into the kitchen, dropping the dishes on the counter with a clatter. Oh, yeah, sophistication at its finest. She had to get hold of herself. Maybe a glass of water. At least it would cool her face down.

She reached for a glass-fronted cabinet containing tumblers and opened it. An appreciative whistle erupted from the cabinet. She let out a short scream and jumped back, heart pounding.

"What's the matter?" Brad was standing in the doorway, a concerned look on his face.

"Did you hear that?"


"The cabinet. It. . . it. . . wolf whistled at me."

"Well, can't say I blame it." Brad looked her up and down, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm serious."

Brad walked over and reached for the nearest cabinet.

"No, no. The one with the glasses." Susan knew she sounded hysterical, but didn't care.

Brad reached out and opened and closed the cabinet door several times. No sound emerged. He turned to look at her thoughtfully.

"I'm not crazy," Susan said, breath still coming quickly, although she was starting to feel more embarrassed than anything else.

"I know you're not." Brad came over and placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders. "The wind is really howling outside. Like I said, these old houses have more than their share of creaks and groans. It probably sounded like a whistle. Although," he teased, "the thought of whistling at you crossed my mind once or twice."

"The wind." Brow furrowed, Susan looked at the cabinet.

"Yeah. Nothing to worry about." Brad turned her to face him. "Next time I take you to dinner, it will be without an ice storm and a crowd."

Susan saw humor flickering in his eyes with something deeper and warmer underlying it. "You're right. I suppose the storm is making me jumpy. I've been working a lot lately. My mind must be playing tricks on me."

"Well, we'll have to fix the working-too-hard part. Did I mention I love it when you say my name? Brad, I mean. Until today, you always called me Dr. Conway. Made me feel about fifty." Brad's hands closed on her arms, and he pulled her toward him.

"I was just being respectful, Dr. Conway," she murmured.

"Be less respectful," he said gruffly, grazing her brow with his lips.

"Aunt Susan!" The kitchen door slammed open, and Jen barreled through it, oblivious to Susan and Brad jerking apart. "You aren't going to believe this."

"I think I'll believe anything at this point," Susan said.

"Alicia has a broom that sweeps by itself."

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