Anybody who knew me in seventh grade knew one thing to be true: I was going to marry Rick Springfield. It was only a matter of the stars aligning. To nudge fate in the right direction, I wrote Rick an eloquent letter that simply stated, “I Love You” one hundred times. Surely, my expression of devotion would bring us together. I’d said, “I Love You” one hundred times. Not ninety-nine. Not one hundred and one. One hundred. (My 13 year-old daughter loves this story and will tell it…

My critique partner, the astoundingly talented Karen Stivali, has a brand new ebook from Ellora’s Cave today, titled Marry Me. In honor of the release and in the spirit of the title, I will purchase a copy of Marry Me for the person who tells me the best wedding reception story. It can be embarrassing (you tucked your dress into your pantyhose), steamy (nothing like a good grope on the dance floor), salacious (ditto for a roll in the coat closet), or stupid (really? you didn’t realize that…

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