Title Imprinted on the Heart
Author Terry Newman
Genre Paranormal Romantic Comedy
Publisher Next Chapter
Book Blurb
JJ Spritely, history professor and romance author, writes love stories, but her own happily ever after seems out of reach. She’s frustrated her most recent book is sitting in a warehouse instead of in the hands of her readers. And her relationship with her boyfriend has stalled. What else could possibly go wrong?
How about a return visit from Alex and Blake, the fictional characters from her yet-to-be-released book? They’ve jumped out of the pages of their book into JJ’s world before. They mean well, but they cause chaos wherever they go.
Kennedy King Cooper wants to propose to JJ, but his track record with this sort of thing isn’t good - and to further complicate matters, the new professor, Robert J. MacWhouton, is monopolizing JJ’s time. If he doesn’t ask her soon, he may lose her forever.
Alex and Blake are determined to give destiny a helping hand. They stand ready to do whatever it takes to help Kenn propose before a kilt-wearing romance hero wannabe sweeps her off her feet. If only they had a plan.
This time, it seems, no one is guaranteed a happily ever after.
Excerpt
Merlin opened the heavy oversized metal door. If he were honest with himself, he was a bit nervous. But then who wouldn’t be under these circumstances? It was officially his first day on the job, and even though he knew he was born for this—it was literally threaded throughout his DNA—he had a thousand-year-old reputation to live up to.
The blue fog-like haze of the cavernous warehouse struck him like a thunderbolt. He wasn’t really sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t this. He allowed the door to close with a thud.
On hearing the sound of the door, the guard, slumped in the chair along the wall, snapped awake and reflexively said, “ID, please.” Then he took a second look at the figure standing next to him, clad in a sapphire blue wizard’s robe and pointed hat, with silver threads glistening throughout the raiment.
“I didn’t realize who I was talking to,” the guard apologized, all but stumbling over his words, “but of course you can go in.”
Merlin merely nodded, his hat barely staying on his head as he did so. “Perhaps you can help me,” he said, straightening it some.
“Of course, sir, anything.”
“Can you tell me in approximately which aisle I can find this?” He slid a hand into his robe, pulled out a clipboard, and pointed.
“About two-thirds of the way down that aisle to the right. If you’ve gone past Pride and Prejudice, you’ve gone too far.”
Merlin winced.
“Don’t worry, sir,” the guard reassured him, “the warehouse isn’t nearly as large as it looks.”
Merlin hurried down the aisle, occasionally squinting through the foggy haze, checking out what types of books the seemingly endless rows held.
Without warning, he practically crashed into a short, royally dressed older woman wearing a stunning crown studded with diamonds and priceless gems, all set in lush purple velvet. His wizard’s hat slid forward and just about fell over his eyes when he stopped abruptly. “Why, your royal highness,” he sputtered. He removed his hat, swept it to the side of him and bent at the waist, giving her the bow a Queen of England deserved.
“Oh, Merlin,”—Queen Victoria waved a white handkerchief—“no one does that to me around here.” She motioned for him to rise. “And you know what?” She leaned in closer as if she were conveying a secret, “I do believe I prefer it the no-fuss way.” She giggled.
“Yes, your highness.” He straightened up and held his hat with both hands.
“You have the same hair as your father,” she sighed.
Merlin fought the urge to run his hands self-consciously through his soft sienna curls. “He is a very good man. Give my regards to him when you see him.”
“I will be sure to do so.” With that, she scooted down to the left aisle humming, “God Save the Queen.”
He placed the hat back on his head, adjusted it as best he could, and continued on his way. “Mr. Darcy?" A man dressed in nineteenth century garb ran at full tilt toward him. “Have I passed your home aisle already?”
“No, no Merlin.” The well-cut figure bent slightly over in an attempt to catch his breath. “I’m running from”—He panted in short gasps of breath—“the women…chasing me.” He gave a quick look behind him, straightened up, and sprinted toward the front of the warehouse.
A moment later, a gaggle of giggling women whooshed up the aisle. Wearing flowing nineteenth century gowns and dragging whimpering Corgis, they would have knocked Merlin over had he not jumped out of the way. He tripped on his gown which was about an inch too long on him. He composed himself, straightened his hat, and continued his search.
He squinted down another row to the left, where an older woman helped a young couple in trying on knitted gloves. A tote bag sat beside her, knitting needles peeking out.
He approached them.
“No, this won’t work at all for you, dear. I’ll need to make the fingers longer. Take them off.” The woman tapped her foot as she waited.
“They are beautiful, though.” The younger woman sighed.
She turned to the man. “I definitely need to start over with your gloves. Come, come. Give them to me.”
The man dutifully obliged.
The older woman, brows furrowed, studied the gloves.
“I’ve got it.”
Her lips curled up and she laughed. “I should have seen it all along.” She stuffed the gloves into the tote bag.
“Thank you. I now know who the murderer is. I must get over there immediately.”
“Excuse me?” Merlin cleared his throat. “But aren’t you Miss Marple?”
“The one and only. But you will excuse me, I’ve got a crime to solve.”
As she passed him, she pivoted. “Do you need any gloves, young man? Maybe a scarf? Let me know.” and she hustled away.
“And you must be—” the wizard began.
“Could it be? Really? Merlin?” the man asked in a distinct English accent.
Merlin gave him a slight bow. “Yes. And you’re Blake Teesdale and Alex Zurich, I presume?”
“We are.” Blake bounced on his heels.
“You know him?” the woman asked her companion.
“Only through reputation.” His voice rose a little. “Am I to assume we’re being called into action somewhere?”
“Indeed, back to JJ Spritely and..." Merlin hesitated, trying to recall the name. "Kennedy King Cooper. It appears your presence is needed. I apologize, but I can’t tell you anything else.”
“Will someone please explain to me what’s going on here?” Alex pressed.
“My apologies fair lady,” Merlin said, as he took his hat off. “I’m Merlin. I’m in charge of sending fictional characters to the ‘real world’ in order to lend destiny a helping hand.”
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub)
UNIVERSAL BOOK LINK: https://books2read.com/u/mlPOYv
BARNES & NOBLE: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/imprinted-on-the-heart-terry-newman/1147004665?ean=2940181021341
RAKUTEN KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/ebook/imprinted-on-the-heart
Author Biography
Terry Newman, award-winning author, writes romantic comedy with a splash of fantasy.
As long as she could remember, she has played with words. In junior high school, she documented the life of a married couple: two No. 2 pencils, Penelope and Peregrine. In high school, she wrote of UFOs and penned an occasional political satire.
She’s also written more normal things. She was the editor-in-chief and ghostwriter for a national health publication, a small-town reporter, and most recently, a freelance writer.
All of her novels are set in fictional towns in northeast Ohio, where she grew up. She has a daughter, a son-in-law, and a grandpuppy. She lives in North Lima, a real town in northeast Ohio with all of her characters. She reports it does get crowded at times.
Social Media Links
Website: https://terrynewmanauthor.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/NewmanWrites