Title: Have Gown, Will Wed
Author: Killian McRae
Release date: September 25, 2013
Age Group: Adult
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Chick Lit
Cover reveal organized by: AToMR Tours: http://atomrbookblogtours.com
Back in college, the bras-before-bros sisterhood decided to live for achievement in the boardroom, not the bedroom. Rosalind Betters embraced that philosophy, pursuing her career and little else. But when her last single friend, Kamakshi, announces her engagement in of all things, an arranged marriage, Rosalind reevaluates the merits of matrimony. In her typical gung ho fashion, she names a date, books a venue, hires a caterer, and picks out a dress, all before finding a groom. Taking a lesson from Kamakshi and too busy to do otherwise, Rosalind hires San Francisco's best headhunter, Xavier Hommes, to find her better half for her.
At first, Xavier thinks Rosalind is one of the eccentric personalities for which the city is famous. As the search starts, however, Xavier finds himself hating his task for reasons he never would have suspected. If Rosalind really wants a man who will make her happy, she need look no further. As W-Day approaches and Rosalind starts falling for someone Xavier himself headhunted, he walks the line between professionalism and passion, trying to decide if competing to become Mr. Betters is worth the risk to his commission, his reputation, and Rosalind's happiness.
“What happened?” Roslaind asked
Kamakshi crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “I told you I was getting married, and you decided to pioneer apartment floor planking.”
Strudel pushed his snout under Rosalind’s hand, his big black eyes fixed on her as he jumped down to the floor and stationed himself at her feet and at the ready to go anywhere she was. “Can you just help me walk to the sofa? I think I just need to sit a few minutes.”
Few times in her life had Rosalind actually been blown completely out of the water. The first had been when Arnold Swartzenegger managed to become governor of California.
Kamakshi fidgeted. “His name is Prashant.”
“Prashant?” She searched her memories. True, Betahouse’s to-do list came before keeping up with Kamakshi’s social life as of late, so they hadn’t exactly been sharing minute-by-minute blows of all their going-ons, but still. “Prashant who?”
“Radhakrishnan,” Kamakshi supplemented, seating herself on the edge of the couch next to her friend. “Don’t worry, you aren’t completely scatter-brained. You’ve never met him. Actually, until a few weeks ago, I’d never met him either.”
Rosalind’s eyebrows knitted. “So you, what, fell in love at first sight or something?”
“Well, not exactly.” Pinching her fingers together, Kamakshi scooted to the edge of the cushion. “A matchmaker found him for me.”
Well, didn’t that up the ante of on the WTF-o-meter. “Are you saying that you had someone find you a husband?”
Nervously, Kamakshi bobbed her head.
Rosalind blanched. “You mean you’re getting married… on purpose?”
With hand wringing, Kamakshi ventured her answer. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“Do you, Kam? Do you really?” Rosalind shot to her feet and began measuring the width of the loft’s seating area footstep by footstep. “Because I’m not sure I do. I mean, if you had told me you decided to cut off all your hair and join a biker gang, I think that would have made more sense.
That would be in line with how bold, how committed, how willing you are to being your own person and being a success in the way you see it. But marriage? I thought we all agreed that was an old world practice meant to keep a woman in check so she doesn’t get too uppity and independent? To make sure she remembers her highest purpose in life is to be the servant of her husband and, lord help me, kids?”
To her utter amazement, Kamakshi took every slight with grace. Never did she bristle or bite; she just waited for Rosalind to lay out her piece, then explained in a voice both calm and firm, “Roz, when we said those things, we were twenty years old. And I agree with you still; many women use marriage as a crutch to prop up their own sense of identity.
But we’re older now, and hopefully a little bit wiser. We see those things we once thought black and white have many shades of gray in between. That’s what a marriage can be for some, but it’s not what it has to be for all.”
Rosalind stared slack-jawed and gap-mouthed, like Kamakshi was trying to explain the basic principles of astrophysics and not justify spontaneous matrimony. “I don’t get it.”
Kamakshi reached across and took Rosalind’s hand into her own. Strudel took advantage of the joining to lick over both the women’s knuckles.
“Rosalind, why are you trying to make BetaHouse a success?”
The befuddled blonde withdrew her hand and leapt to her feet. “That’s such a stupid question!”
“It’s not. It’s a simple question. So answer it.” Kamakshi folded one leg over another and waited patiently. “And don’t try to tell me it’s for the money. I know for a fact that you were offered everything short of paradise by Google to stay, and that Yahoo and a handful of other valley companies chased you like a rabbit when the rumor circulated that you were leaving.”
Planting her feet into the ground, Rosalind folded her arms over her chest and huffed, “Because I didn’t want to be anyone’s lapdog!”
“That’s true, but we both know you would never allow yourself to stay in a position where you were being taken advantage of.” Her eyes narrowed. “The truth. Now.”
It call came out like a floodgate bursting. “Because I want to make something that’s mine! I want to hone, and strive, and labor, and grunt, and at the end of the day, turn around and say, ‘Look! I did that! I made that! My work, and my time, and my idea, and it happened, because I believed I could.’”
At the end of Rosalind’s screed, Kamakshi cupped her chin and cocked her head to the side. “And you would be saying this to …”
Rosalind shrugged. “Everyone.”
“Everyone doesn’t care.”
About the Author:
Killian McRae would tell you that she is a rather boring lass, an authoress whose characters’ lives are so much more exciting than her own. She would be right. Sadly, this sarcastic lexophile leads a rather mundane existence in the San Francisco Bay Area. She once dreamed of being the female Indiana Jones, and to that end she earned a degree in Middle Eastern History from the University of Michigan.
However, when she learned that real archaeologist spend more time lovingly removing dust with toothbrushes from shards of pottery than outrunning intriguing villains with exotic accents, she decided to become a writer instead. She writes across many genres, including science fiction, fantasy, romance, and historical fiction.
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