Don't hate me because I'm psychic. . .everybody else already does. My name's Clair Ivers and these days my "gift" seems more like a booby prize. It all started when this crazy woman tried to bribe me into skewing a reading to warm her future sister-in-law's cold feet. Then the prospective sister-in-law threatened to kill herself at the altar if I didn't give her a phony reading saying she should break off the engagement. Oh, and did I mention she ran out, leaving her three-carat rock of a ring right there on my table?
So what's an honest woman to do? Find the man who belongs to the ring, of course. And boy, have I found him. The minute I lay eyes on Jack Heron, I know he's the one. . .for me, that is. The problem is making him realize it once he finds out that I may be responsible for the flight of his fiancÃ©e. At least his grandmother likes me. Of course she thinks I'm someone else. And then there's the best man who keeps calling me for dates. . .and stock tips.
Between the people who think I'm someone else, the people who wish I were, and the people who just want a bead on the winning Powerball numbers, I'm seriously considering packing in my deck for good. But not until I throw caution to the wind and make a play for my very own Jack of Hearts. . .
About: After a runaway bride-to-be leaves behind a three-carat engagement ring on her table, psychic Clare Ivers finds the man of her dreams when she returns the bauble to Jack Heron, who believes she is someone else.
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