Method for Matrimony

method for matrimony A Jupiter Tides Novel anne malcom Copyright © 2023 by Anne Malcom All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental. Cover Design: TRC Designs Editing: Hot Tree Editing Proofreading: All Encompassing Books for my Baby Daddy. contents Author’s Note Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Epilogue Dorito Casserole Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Anne Malcom author’s note Write what you know. Rather trite, but a well-established phrase for a reason. All of my books are deeply personal, one way or another. They all contain pieces of myself, of whatever I was struggling with at the time, whatever I was feeling at the time. Even what TV shows I was obsessed with at the time. Sure, I’ve taken a lot of creative license with some things. I’ve not had experience with outlaw bikers, hitmen, vampires, demons, or witches… yet. But a lot of my heroines’ struggles mirror my own. If you’ve read any of my books before, you might have noticed I’ve mentioned miscarriage a couple of times. Unfortunately, that is a ‘write what you know’ kind of deal. I worried in this book that I was treading over old ground. That my readers might feel ‘sick’ of this subject, as it’s an uncomfortable topic we’ve historically swept under the rug or been urged to ‘keep to ourselves.’ Then I gave myself a mental kick up the butt. First and foremost, I can’t decide what I will and won’t put in a book. The characters decide that for me. And if I was to force myself not to write something, it would be doing this story and you, dear reader, a great disservice. Second, this is my story. This is countless other women’s stories. And again, we’re urged to keep this subject quiet, lest it make others uncomfortable. We’re meant to suffer in silence and think we’re in this alone. But you’re not. Alone. There are millions of women who read romance to escape. But there are millions, too, who need to feel spoken to, seen. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m also writing this to give you one The Proposal “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Not a question I thought I’d ever be asked again in my lifetime. In fact, when I’d come to this country, I’d made very specific promises to myself about marriage, about belonging to a man in any way. Namely that I’d never belong to a man again. But the problem was I was fucking terrible at keeping promises to myself. “I do,” I said through gritted teeth, not slurring my words, which in and of itself was pretty fucking impressive considering how drunk I was. Not drunk enough, it seemed. “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Ocean-blue eyes bored into mine. They were hard, angry, almost communicating that he was doing this, standing here, against his will. Except he’d gone into this with his full faculties, and this whole thing was his idea. “I do,” he ground out. The two words sounded like they were painful. Like someone was holding a gun to his head. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Fuck. I’d known this part was coming. Which was, in part, why I was so close to being wasted. That and the whole being married thing. We had to do it. The whole point of the wedding was to make it believable. I feared we hadn’t been doing so well up until this point. I’d stumbled down the aisle, Kip glowered the entire time, and both of us were standing as far away from each other as we could, like we were afraid the other was contagious. We’d agreed ahead of time that the kiss had to happen. But now that it was right here, I