Talk about a house call! All Ellen wanted was to get her ring out of the bathtub drain; what she got was a rude plumber who made her clean out her closet, bled all over her bedroom carpet and fainted. Then refused to let her pay her bill! What’s with this guy?
This guy – Rick Braswell – is having a midlife crisis at thirty. Ever since making a house call for that crazy Ellen Anderson, Rick’s crisis has turned into crises. He’s having the worst luck of his life, and every accident and injury involves Ellen. And yet there is something about her that makes Rick want to beat the jinx so he can love the woman.
The Jinx Excerpt:
Rick stalked back toward his desk and sat down on the chair, took a few deep breaths, and waited. He had been doing a lot of that lately. Another minute or so wasn’t going to kill him. The door opened just wide enough for Denise to slip inside. She pushed it shut behind her and sprinted to him.
“She wants to see you.”
“By all means, show her in. And then go home.”
“It’s not five o’clock yet.”
“It is somewhere. Go home.” Rick emphasized the last two words.
“Maybe I should…” Denise shifted from one foot to the other.
Rick gave her a look, which shut her up. She was a good secretary, a caring person, his right hand here. But he wanted her gone. Rick wasn’t sure what was going to happen when Ellen walked through that door, but he anticipated it could get ugly. He’d rather not have a witness here to see his downfall. He had been humiliated enough already in front of too many people. He was sure he was the laughing stock at the hospital. Everybody was getting to know him on a first name basis. Heck. He should get some kind of discount for all the business he had been giving them. He hoped his health insurance
didn’t drop him.
Without another word, Denise opened the door and exited. In Richard’s head, the theme from “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” began to play. On cue, Ellen appeared.
She turned and faced him. She had the stance of a gunfighter down pat—legs braced, back straight, and stiff posture. And those eyes—those gorgeous blue eyes—were boring into him. He felt like an ant being incinerated by a sun ray through a magnifying glass. The music got louder. She was a heck of a lot prettier than Clint Eastwood.
Dressed in a white sleeveless dress, Ellen was showing a good portion of leg. Her hair was pulled up showing the smooth line of her neck. Rick remembered kissing the soft skin there. He broke out in a sweat. Oh, man. Get thecoffin ready. Rick didn’t think he was going to be the one standing when the smoke cleared.
What are the reviewers saying?
Writers and Readers of Distinctive Fiction gave The Jinx their “Fanstastic. Stays of the Shelf” Button. In their review, WRDF wrote, Jennifer Johnson’s book, The Jinx, is a hilarious read. Following the “courtship” of Ellen and Rick is a study in mishaps at a graduate level.”
The Long and Short of it said, “The author’s skillful writing and slightly warped sense of humor make this a thoroughly delightful read…. Jennifer Johnson is a romantic comedy author to watch.” LASR readers voted The Jinx the Best Book of the Week.
Simply Romance Reviews had this to say: Written with a flowing style with lots of visual imagery, The Jinx was a hysterical read. The bantering about of the fee for retrieving her ring out of the sink was awe inspiring. Truly entertaining, I kept finding myself wondering what new, horrible ways the author would come up with to torment poor Rick. I started reading this late evening, and really had to force myself to put it down and go to bed. Then I was up first thing the next morning to finish it. Love conquers all, including high insurance rates. Give this lighthearted read a try.
Midnight Rose quipped “Hey! Get your butt out of that chair and give me some cat food.”
Oh, excuse me. That last comment is not a reviewer, but my cat.
I grew up as a flower girl named Francesca in Uruguay, making my first “B” movie at fourteen. I was a sensation locally, but, tragically, the world did not appreciate my talents. My lover, Bruno, intent on killing me because of my infidelity, forced me into fleeing to the United States, the land of new beginnings and redemption. I have a dream that I am a North American woman from Alabama, USA. I go to Wesleyan College in Macon, Georgia and later to Columbia Seminary in Decatur, Georgia. I am called to serve in the church as a minister. My dream continues that I marry a man who teaches math and that we have two children who share with us in our happy existence in Kentucky, far away from Uruguay and my checkered past. In my dream, my name is Jennifer Johnson. It is a common, yet lovely name, which allows me to be free from the clutches of Bruno.
Oh, wait. Maybe my dream is my life. Yes, it is! I do, however, love to create other worlds to dream in and fall in love with. I wrote my first love story in seventh grade. It was about two teenagers who meet at beach camp. They get stranded on a top bunk of a bed by a wolf. I kept this epic novel in a bright pink notebook and carried it with me everywhere. It disappeared one day and; alas, the young lovers’ story was never resolved. If I had finished it, it would have been a happy ending because I’m a big believer in happy endings! And I’m still hoping that pink notebook will show up somewhere. P.S. I can’t take credit for Francesca – she’s from an old Kids in the Hall comedy sketch.