Everyone says the first year of marriage is the hardest . . . but what would you do if you found out that you were never really married in the first place?
In this irresistible romantic comedy from award-winning author Beth Kendrick, three wildly different women form an unlikely friendship as they try to decide whether they'd do it all again.
They've had the white dresses and the fancy receptions. But now that the honeymoon's over, Stella, Casey, and Erin have each had to face some hard truths about the men they've married and the lives they've chosen. So when the news breaks that the pastor who presided over their weddings failed to file a few critical pieces of paper, none of these newlyweds are rushing down to the courthouse to legalize their vows. Instead, the brides share their hopes, disappointments, and secrets while grappling with that pivotal question: Should they stay or should they go?
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November 07, 2006
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Excerpt from Nearlyweds by Beth Kendrick
"Yum." I stretched my arms over my head and curled my toes into the zillion-thread-count sheets of the Cartwell House Inn's luxurious honeymoon cottage. "Honey, that was fantastic."
Mark grinned. "You enjoyed your wedding day, Mrs. Porter?"
"And how." I let my head drop back against the pillow, closing my eyes to relive the ceremony, the dancing, and Mark's champagne toast, which had brought tears to my eyes. "Total dream come true. Modern Bride and Vera Wang and Cinderella all rolled into one ginormous lacy orgasm." Well. Except for the white-hot glares my new stepdaughters kept shooting my way.
"And the wedding night?" He waggled his eyebrows at the blue garter, Richard Tyler gown, and ivory satin sandals scattered across the hotel room floor.
"Also a dream come true," I assured him.
"Are you sure? Because you know I can get my hands on some Viagra samples."
"I'm satisfied, I'm satisfied. Thank God I met you after your sexual peak or I probably wouldn't be able to walk."
"Just checking. Men of a certain age have to make sure our nubile young trophy wives are happy."
I reached over and swatted his arm. "That's all I am to you? A fluffball trophy wife with a sick body?"
"A sweet, kind, smart trophy wife whom I will cherish for the rest of my days," he corrected. "Who also happens to be drop-dead gorgeous."
"Too late. Don't try to butter me up," I huffed, turning over on my side so he wouldn't see me smile. "I'm unbutterable."