Madam Love, Actually
Lance Parker is an arrogant know-it-all. As author of the bestselling book Your Soulmate Doesn’t Exist, he says love is for losers. Madam Love is a fortune teller and matchmaker who has brought hundreds of couples together.
When the two clash during a radio interview, she admits even someone as irritating and impossible as Lance has a soulmate. He says she’s delirious and a fraud. Then the gauntlet is laid down: Madam Love has two weeks to prove Lance wrong and find him a soulmate.
When Lance meets wonderful Emma by chance, he doesn’t know what to think anymore. But Emma has a secret. She’s Madam Love, actually. And it's going to take a whole lot more than a crystal ball to get her out of this mess.
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Madam Love, Actually extract
for Jazzy Book Reviews
In
this scene, Madam Love calls the radio station to give Lance a piece of her
mind after he said on the radio that all fortune tellers belong in the trash.
“Welcome back! I’m Elaine Stewart
and we’ve been talking with author Lance Parker about his new book Your
Soulmate Doesn’t Exist. Let’s get right back to the calls,” Elaine
continued. “Madam Love is on line three. You’re on the air with Lance Parker.”
“Thanks for taking my call,” Madam
Love said.
Madam Love?
What the hell kind of name is that?
“I was hoping Lance could help me,”
Madam Love said. “I’m a little lost.”
Lance had no idea what she was
talking about. “How’s that?”
“Well, darling . . . I’m really not
sure which garbage I belong in, you know, me being a fortune teller and all. I
just want to make sure I place myself in the proper receptacle since tomorrow
is pickup day in my neighborhood.”
Peter covered his face with the
palms of his hands.
“Do I go in the regular garbage or
in the recycle bin?” Madam Love said. “Compost, maybe? Unless you think I’m
radioactive.”
Lance chuckled. “First . . . should
I call you Miss Love? Or do you prefer Madam?”
“Madam Love, actually.”
“Okay . . . Madam Love, Actually.
Tell me—”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Feisty. I like that. But I need to
know . . . how do you sleep at night?”
“On my side with a full-length body
pillow. I snore less that way.”
Lance sat up in his chair and
ignored her answer. “You claim to be a real fortune teller? That’s what
you call yourself?”
“Yes,” Madam Love said. “I’m also
known as a human whisperer, a psychic, a clairvoyant, and a medium. They’re all
basically in the same category, although our gifts can vary depending on the
person.”
Lance smirked. “Gifts or scams?”
“Gifts,” Madam Love said. “Sure,
there are people who give us a bad reputation, but I assure you there are
plenty of us who have genuine gifts and use them for the greater good of
mankind.”
“The greater good, meaning your bank
account gets filled with lots of money for taking advantage of insecure people
searching for answers?” Lance said, trying to make sure he had plenty of
sarcasm in his voice.
“No!” Madam Love said.
“I didn’t know that the gifts could
vary depending on the person,” Elaine jumped into the conversation. “That’s
fascinating. How much can they vary?”
Lance wondered how the topic got
shifted from his book to fortune tellers.
Oh, that’s right.
It was his fault for opening his
big, fat mouth.
“My gifts are specific,” Madam Love
said. “I don’t read minds or see dead people or predict upcoming catastrophic
events. I specialize in finding people their soulmates, their destinies.”
“What a crock,” Lance mumbled,
shaking his head in disbelief.
Peter poked Lance’s arm and mouthed
the words be nice.
“I’m curious how you can claim to
find someone their destiny,” Lance said. “Shouldn’t that happen naturally? If
something is meant to be, it doesn’t need anyone’s help to materialize.”
“That’s what you think?” Madam Love
asked.
“That’s what I know.”
“Then let me ask you this . . . were
you destined to become an author?”
“What does that have to do with
soulmates?” Lance said.
“Yes or no.”
Lance hesitated and then said, “Yes.
I was destined. It’s my calling.”
“Okay, then. Did you have any help
along the way? Any guidance to achieve your destiny? An education, maybe?
Financial help? A mentor? Inspiration? Anything at all? Or did you snap a
finger and you were an author?”
“That’s different. One is a career.
The other has to do with relationships.”
“Destiny is destiny, no matter how
you slice it.”
Lance adjusted his headphones, not
enjoying the conversation at all. “You’re a former lawyer, aren’t you? You like
to twist words and try to confuse people.”
“Awww,” Madam Love said. “Is Lance
Parker confused? Well, don’t you worry—we’ll get you some help. You hang in
there.”
Lance stared at his microphone.
Madam Love was trying to piss him
off.
And it was working.
The woman was a con artist and Lance
needed to say something.
He also needed to stop grinding his
teeth.
“I take it by your silence that you
had help,” Madam Love said. “Hey—nothing wrong with that. We all need help.
Things don’t magically happen on their own. You have to take action, otherwise
everyone will just sit around waiting to win the lottery. You have to play if
you want to win, so to speak. I help people find their soulmates every day.
Most of them just need a little nudge or have to be pointed in the right
direction.”
“I don’t buy it,” Lance said.
“Well, you don’t have to buy it, Mr. Parker, but it’s
true. And you may find this hard to believe, but there’s even a soulmate for
someone as arrogant and impossible as you.”
Author Bio –
Rich Amooi is a former radio personality who now writes romantic comedies full-time. He is happily married to a kiss monster imported from Spain. They live in San Diego, California with their very hairy daughter, a mini goldendoodle puppy. Rich believes in public displays of affection, silliness, infinite possibilities, donuts, gratitude, laughter, and happily ever after.
Social Media Links –
Twitter: https://twitter.com/richamooi
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