I should've known it wouldn't work out.
In all my twenty-nine years, life has never been smooth sailing when a man was involved. Astor Hill was everything I've ever wanted in a partner—handsome, successful, and interested in me. Until he started cheating. The cherry on the sundae is finding out the truth less than a month before we're supposed to stand up for our best friends at their wedding.
When a staggeringly good-looking and kind stranger comes to town and offers to take me to the wedding, I jump at his proposal. Who cares if he's gay? Astor doesn't need to know that.
She thinks I'm gay?!
I'm taking a vacation from Hollywood and going back to Elk Lake. My grandfather hasn't been doing well after Gram died and he needs my support. Luckily, I'm between blockbuster movies so I can make the time.
My first stop is Rosemary's Bakery for one of the gingersnaps I remember so fondly from my childhood. The only problem is that the girl at the counter has eaten them all. After spilling my tea on me, she bursts into tears and tells me her troubles. I should be annoyed but I'm oddly charmed.
I know what it's like to be dumped by a cheater, so I do the only thing I can think of: I offer to take her to the wedding to make her ex jealous. Unfortunately, with the help of the tabloids, things quickly spiral out of control...
I should have used my college degree to become a lawyer, politician, or heck, even a Time Lord—hey, it worked for Dr. Who. But no, I had to own a bridal boutique. Turns out that’s a terrible idea for someone with my lousy dating history.
Every day, I’m surrounded by the trappings of the perfect wedding, and I’m starting to resent all the smug almost-marrieds. I shouldn’t want to throat punch the brides, right?
Then Jamie Riordan moves to Elk Lake with his twelve-year-old daughter. He’s everything I've ever wanted in a guy—tall, gorgeous, successful, and clearly devoted to his kid.
Too bad his grumpy highness wants nothing to do with me.
I may not be his dream girl, but does he have to be so insulting about letting me know?
Paige Holland here—lifetime resident of Elk Lake, Wisconsin, and dedicated seventh-grade math teacher.
Have you ever wondered if those reality shows, where people find their soul mates, are real? Yeah, me too. And while I’m totally addicted to those programs, I’m also a world-class skeptic.
Thirty-two single years have either opened my mind to new possibilities or totally caused some undiagnosed mental illness, like pie-in-the-sky dreameritis.
I’m about to find out which it is, and I’m scared to death. And maybe a little excited too …
May 23, 2024
Trina Rockwell here. You know, your favorite TV host from Midwestern Matchmaker?
I have a secret: I am without a doubt, the unluckiest dater in the history of the entire world. I’m not even embellishing. I’ve inadvertently dated a mobster, a dead-beat dad, and a guy who puts salt on watermelon. What’s next, pineapple on pizza?
As my past relationships reads like the who’s who of court jesters, it’s no wonder I’ve refused my producers desire to spotlight me as one of the singles on a new show they’re putting together.
The problem is that Midwestern Matchmaker just got canceled and unless I agree to their terms, I’m out of a job.
In order to keep doing what I love doing—matching midwestern singles, I either need to suck it up and parade my dating life on national television or I need to get married—STAT.
Guess which one I’m putting my money on?