by: Terri Osburn
Series: The NOT Series
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Romantic Comedy
Release Date: May 24, 2021
Publisher: Macie Rae Publishing
Amazon | Paperback | Goodreads
Four blind dates in five days. I can’t believe I agreed to this.
Actually, I can. That’s what I do. I agree to things I don’t want to do to make other people happy. In this case, my four best friends. They’re worried about me and if going on a few dates will make them happy, then I’ll do it. How bad could they be?
I probably shouldn’t have asked that.
I’m starting to seriously wonder if my friends know me at all. Each pick is worse than the last, and none of them compare to my former fiancé. But then I guess maybe that’s the point. Someone new to help me forget the old.
To help me move on.
Except I don’t need a man to prove that I’ve moved on. Why can’t my friends understand that? And why does the same beautiful stranger keep saving me from these awful encounters? The universe seems to be throwing him into my path, and the more time I spend with him the more I wish that he was one of the dates.
There’s one more date left and I can’t help but wonder if he’ll pop up again. How many chance encounters can two people have? Pittsburgh is a big city so the chances are slim. But what if…?
This sweet rom-com tells the story of a woman stuck in the past, and how meeting a series of Mr. Wrongs, plus one Mr. Right, sets her on a new path. One of healing, forgiveness, and new beginnings.
Release Date: May 24, 2021
Publisher: Macie Rae Publishing
Amazon | Paperback | Goodreads
Four blind dates in five days. I can’t believe I agreed to this.
Actually, I can. That’s what I do. I agree to things I don’t want to do to make other people happy. In this case, my four best friends. They’re worried about me and if going on a few dates will make them happy, then I’ll do it. How bad could they be?
I probably shouldn’t have asked that.
I’m starting to seriously wonder if my friends know me at all. Each pick is worse than the last, and none of them compare to my former fiancé. But then I guess maybe that’s the point. Someone new to help me forget the old.
To help me move on.
Except I don’t need a man to prove that I’ve moved on. Why can’t my friends understand that? And why does the same beautiful stranger keep saving me from these awful encounters? The universe seems to be throwing him into my path, and the more time I spend with him the more I wish that he was one of the dates.
There’s one more date left and I can’t help but wonder if he’ll pop up again. How many chance encounters can two people have? Pittsburgh is a big city so the chances are slim. But what if…?
This sweet rom-com tells the story of a woman stuck in the past, and how meeting a series of Mr. Wrongs, plus one Mr. Right, sets her on a new path. One of healing, forgiveness, and new beginnings.
Setup: Becca is on her first blind date. The date got fall down drunk and she’s trying to get him home but knows very little about him. She had to order an Uber since she doesn’t drive and her date was too drunk to drive himself.
Why hadn’t I gotten coffee into him before ordering the car?
“You need to get out now.” Eyes still closed, he patted around for the door handle but found his own knee instead. I tossed the purse onto the seat beside me and reached across him. “I’ll get it.”
The door flew open and we both tumbled out. When Peter’s head hit the pavement, he grunted in pain, while his foot kicked me in the boob. My yelp was followed by a few choice words as I teetered between agony and humiliation. Half in the car and half out, I struggled to right myself, and when I finally reached a sitting position, I looked up to find our driver looming above us both.
“Can you get him inside?” he asked.
Knowing my limitations, I said, “Probably not, but I’m hoping he can walk.”
The driver scratched his head. “How much did he drink?”
“One glass of wine and four martinis.” I stood up, careful not to step on my date. “He told me he wasn’t going to get drunk.”
Squatting, he tapped Peter on the cheek. “He lied. Time to get up, buddy. Help your girlfriend out and get to your feet.”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” I corrected.
Brow arched, he looked up at me. “Does he know that?”
As if to answer for me, Peter said, “I love Evelyn.”
“See?” I replied. “He loves Evelyn.”
Jacob shook his head. “Then can Evelyn help get him out from under my car?”
I hadn’t noticed that Peter’s feet were under the vehicle. If Jacob tried to pull away, he’d have to run over my date to do it.
Kneeling down, I tapped Peter’s cheek as Jacob had, only harder. “Come on. You have to wake up.” Tap, tap, tap. “Peter, wake up.”
Bushy brows furrowed. “Let me sleep a little longer.”
“On your feet,” Jacob said, lifting the drunk man first to a sitting position, and then upright. “Steady now.” He slowly eased his hands away, allowing Peter to stand on his own. To me he said, “He’s all yours.”
“Thank you again.” I wedged myself under Peter’s right arm and moved us both out of the way so the beleaguered driver, who had already shown more patience than this situation deserved, could close the car door.
Four steps later, my cargo nearly collapsed. I managed to keep us upright, though I had no idea how. Our progress was slow, and I realized there were no doors in sight, nor did I see signs leading to an entrance. I also had no idea how to find Peter’s apartment. As I was about to ask for his apartment number, my load got lighter.
“Wha—”
“Which way is it?” Jacob asked, shifting my useless date’s weight onto himself.
The man was too nice for his own good, and he definitely wasn’t going to like my answer.
“I don’t know.”
Brown eyes turned my way, and I was struck by the length of his eyelashes. He probably wouldn’t appreciate being called pretty, but that was the exact word that came to mind. Actually, he veered closer to beautiful.
“You don’t know?”
There was that judgmental glare again. “I just met him less than two hours ago.”
“Do you make a habit of picking up drunk men in bars and taking them home?”
I could hardly unpack all of the accusations in that statement.
“Not that I owe you any sort of explanation, but no, I do not. We were on a blind date, and he was sober when I met him. I had no idea he would get like this. If anything, you should be impressed that I’m going to such lengths to get a virtual stranger home safely.”
“You want credit when I’m the one carrying him?”
Touché.
“A mere technicality.” Arguing was getting us nowhere so I turned my attention to the source of my problem. “Peter, wake up. We need your apartment number.”
“Three oh four,” he replied.
Jacob and I locked eyes, both surprised by the quick reply.
“You’re awake?” I said, pointing out the obvious.
“Who could sleep with you two making so much noise?”
Eyes half open, Peter stepped away from Jacob, surveyed his surroundings, and then strolled down the sidewalk to our left. He swayed a bit but remained upright and continued on at a steady pace.
When he disappeared around the corner of the building I looked up at Jacob. “What if he falls again?”
Heading back to his car, he said, “He’ll be fine.”
He was probably right. And if Peter didn’t make it all the way to his own door, surely a neighbor would find him sleeping it off somewhere in the building. Declaring the disaster of a date officially over, I spun toward my ride, only to find the Buick backing out of the parking space.
“Hey! Wait for me.”
Why hadn’t I gotten coffee into him before ordering the car?
“You need to get out now.” Eyes still closed, he patted around for the door handle but found his own knee instead. I tossed the purse onto the seat beside me and reached across him. “I’ll get it.”
The door flew open and we both tumbled out. When Peter’s head hit the pavement, he grunted in pain, while his foot kicked me in the boob. My yelp was followed by a few choice words as I teetered between agony and humiliation. Half in the car and half out, I struggled to right myself, and when I finally reached a sitting position, I looked up to find our driver looming above us both.
“Can you get him inside?” he asked.
Knowing my limitations, I said, “Probably not, but I’m hoping he can walk.”
The driver scratched his head. “How much did he drink?”
“One glass of wine and four martinis.” I stood up, careful not to step on my date. “He told me he wasn’t going to get drunk.”
Squatting, he tapped Peter on the cheek. “He lied. Time to get up, buddy. Help your girlfriend out and get to your feet.”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” I corrected.
Brow arched, he looked up at me. “Does he know that?”
As if to answer for me, Peter said, “I love Evelyn.”
“See?” I replied. “He loves Evelyn.”
Jacob shook his head. “Then can Evelyn help get him out from under my car?”
I hadn’t noticed that Peter’s feet were under the vehicle. If Jacob tried to pull away, he’d have to run over my date to do it.
Kneeling down, I tapped Peter’s cheek as Jacob had, only harder. “Come on. You have to wake up.” Tap, tap, tap. “Peter, wake up.”
Bushy brows furrowed. “Let me sleep a little longer.”
“On your feet,” Jacob said, lifting the drunk man first to a sitting position, and then upright. “Steady now.” He slowly eased his hands away, allowing Peter to stand on his own. To me he said, “He’s all yours.”
“Thank you again.” I wedged myself under Peter’s right arm and moved us both out of the way so the beleaguered driver, who had already shown more patience than this situation deserved, could close the car door.
Four steps later, my cargo nearly collapsed. I managed to keep us upright, though I had no idea how. Our progress was slow, and I realized there were no doors in sight, nor did I see signs leading to an entrance. I also had no idea how to find Peter’s apartment. As I was about to ask for his apartment number, my load got lighter.
“Wha—”
“Which way is it?” Jacob asked, shifting my useless date’s weight onto himself.
The man was too nice for his own good, and he definitely wasn’t going to like my answer.
“I don’t know.”
Brown eyes turned my way, and I was struck by the length of his eyelashes. He probably wouldn’t appreciate being called pretty, but that was the exact word that came to mind. Actually, he veered closer to beautiful.
“You don’t know?”
There was that judgmental glare again. “I just met him less than two hours ago.”
“Do you make a habit of picking up drunk men in bars and taking them home?”
I could hardly unpack all of the accusations in that statement.
“Not that I owe you any sort of explanation, but no, I do not. We were on a blind date, and he was sober when I met him. I had no idea he would get like this. If anything, you should be impressed that I’m going to such lengths to get a virtual stranger home safely.”
“You want credit when I’m the one carrying him?”
Touché.
“A mere technicality.” Arguing was getting us nowhere so I turned my attention to the source of my problem. “Peter, wake up. We need your apartment number.”
“Three oh four,” he replied.
Jacob and I locked eyes, both surprised by the quick reply.
“You’re awake?” I said, pointing out the obvious.
“Who could sleep with you two making so much noise?”
Eyes half open, Peter stepped away from Jacob, surveyed his surroundings, and then strolled down the sidewalk to our left. He swayed a bit but remained upright and continued on at a steady pace.
When he disappeared around the corner of the building I looked up at Jacob. “What if he falls again?”
Heading back to his car, he said, “He’ll be fine.”
He was probably right. And if Peter didn’t make it all the way to his own door, surely a neighbor would find him sleeping it off somewhere in the building. Declaring the disaster of a date officially over, I spun toward my ride, only to find the Buick backing out of the parking space.
“Hey! Wait for me.”
Purchase Not You Again from:
The NOT Series:
Not Playing Fair releases August 30, 2021
Terri fell in love with reading at a young age, starting with condensed versions of classics such as The Wizard of Oz, The Hound of the Baskervilles, and Little Women. She fell into Romance novels around Junior High and never looked back. Authors such as Judith McNaught, Kathleen Woodiwiss, and LaVyrle Spencer kept her going through high school, then she bounded into the 90s with authors like Julie Garwood, Dorothy Garlock, Johanna Lindsey, and countless others.
Her bookshelves are lined with beloved keepers (many sporting Fabio covers), some tattered and torn but all filled with passion, love, lust, and above all, happy endings. From the Wild West to Romping Regency ballrooms to boardrooms and charming small towns, her library covers the spectrum.
Terri is a new-ish empty nester who makes her home in middle Tennessee with four frisky felines, and two high-maintenance terriers. In her nefarious past she worked in government contracting, fund-raising, catering, and was even a train conductor. (In the mall. Not as impressive as it sounds.) She was also a Country radio disc jockey for eight years.
Terri is a Wall Street Journal bestselling author, and a member of Novelists, Inc., Romance Writers of America®, and Music City Romance Writers. She’s a 2012 Golden Heart® finalist in the Contemporary Single Title category for unpublished manuscripts. Her fifth novel, HIS FIRST AND LAST, won the 2016 Book Buyers Best Award in the Contemporary Single Title category. As an international bestseller, her books have been translated into five languages and have sold more than one million copies worldwide. Terri is represented by Nalini Akolekar with the Spencerhill Agency and publishes through Macie Rae Publishing.
Places to find Terri Osburn:
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