Today’s Featured Kindle Book of the Day, The Day We Met, by Barbara Bretton, is regularly $2.99 but has been discounted to just 99 cents today in the Amazon Kindle store. This book has received an average user rating of 4.7 out of 5 stars based on 27 customer reviews.
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Here is the book’s description from the Amazon website:
THEY WEREN’T LOOKING FOR LOVE . . .
It’s 7:08 on the morning of Maggy O’Brien’s thirty-fifth birthday and she’s driving carpool in her pajamas and bunny slippers. She can’t remember the last time she shaved her legs. She’s hasn’t slept past dawn since her kids were born and one of them is now a teenager.
Can life possibly get any worse?
The second she sees her sisters waiting impatiently at the foot of her driveway, she knows the answer to that question. Claire and Ellie are staging a makeover intervention and no amount of protest can save Maggy from being cut and colored and waxed to within an inch of her life. And as if that’s not enough, they announce she’s being banished to Atlantic City for an all-expenses-paid getaway weekend for one.
Maggy isn’t a sequins-and-stilettos kind of woman. She’s a single mom who is more comfortable pushing a shopping cart through Stop & Shop than sipping champagne in the backseat of a stretch limo headed toward Vegas on the Jersey Shore. Still even Maggy isn’t immune to playing Cinderella for a weekend, even if it only means room service lobster and trying her hand at the penny slots.
But when she locks eyes a few hours later with ruggedly handsome police detective Conor Riley, she discovers there’s more to Cinderella’s story than dancing until midnight.
They agree it’s just a fling. A weekend of magic with no strings attached. They’d say goodbye on Sunday night and return to their everyday lives with sweet memories and no regrets.
But Maggy and Conor are about to discover that maybe some flings are meant to last forever . . .
In the month of February 1982 I wrote and sold my first novel. And no, I wouldn’t believe it either if it hadn’t happened to me. I sent in my manuscript on Thursday February 21, 1982 and four days later the telephone rang and I heard the amazing words, “We want to buy your book.” How I wish you could have seen me. I was standing by the kitchen door of our North Babylon house, the picture of cool sophistication, as I listened to Vivian Stephens explain the terms of the deal to me. You would have thought I’d sold a first book every single day of my life. Yes, I said. Sounds wonderful. Thank you so much for calling. I look forward to our association. That cool sophistication hung on until I hung up the phone, took a deep breath, then promptly threw up on my shoes.
I was thirty-one years old, unagented, unschooled, unfamiliar with anything to do with the business of publishing. To put it mildly, I was in shock. My husband was working in Manhattan at the time (and finishing up his degree at night) so it would be hours until I could break the news to him. This was too exciting to waste on a phone call. I wanted to see his face when I told him that my dream had finally come true — and came with a $6,000 advance!
He pulled into the driveway at midnight. I was waiting in the doorway, holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses. I didn’t have to say a word. He knew right away and the look of joy and pride in his eyes warms me now, years later, long after the advance faded into memory.
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