A couple of years ago, I had a dream I was about to get married. I vaguely knew the guy—he’s someone I know in real life…we had the same music teacher in high school and saw each other at concerts. That was it. But in the dream, we were about to get married. I had my kids, and as usually happens when I dream about another man, McIrish was conveniently absent (it’s all in a day’s work, being a romance and writer and all). So this guy and I were about to get married in a matter of hours, and we hadn’t really talked. I suggested we take a walk, and we did, and we got along just fine. He was courtly and a little shy and quite nice. I asked if he’d like to meet my kids, and he said he would, very much. Then I suggested we kiss, just for the heck of it, and it was very pleasant. (I know…not exactly the stuff of a romance novel, but I’m being honest here). I felt very good about the marriage. It made sense in the dream. He was decent and kind, and what more could I ask?
In this day of Google stalking, online dating that prescreens the people a computer program deems a good fit, when people date for years and years before getting engaged, or live together to test the waters…well, there’s nothing wrong with that. To each his or her own, right? But for a book, I wanted to do something rash.
And so, Honor’s grandmother picks out a guy for her. After years of being in a one-sided love affair, after a decade of first dates, Honor figures Goggy’s choice can’t be much worse than the guys she’s meeting on her own. Her grandmother loves her, after all, and why not give it a shot? Beats the whole lotta nothing she’s got going on right now.
Do you know someone who had an arranged marriage? Do you think it could work in modern times? Pop over to my Facebook page and leave a comment, and I’ll give one of you a copy of The Best Man.