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THE LOVE TALISMAN
Soul Mate #2
Soul Mate #2
Morgan K. Wyatt
Released on December 25, 2015
Where is her fairy godmother when she needs her?
A missing in action boyfriend isn’t cutting it for Ellie. Still, she tries to make the best of things.
A well-paying job that includes plenty of eye candy in the form of muscular construction workers should be enough. Add to that a devoted male with gorgeous hair. Too bad, he’s her cat. The love and stability she craves always seems to be out of reach. What she needs is a fairy godmother, but what she has is a green lily talisman that her grandmother insists is magical.
The song ended with her belting out the chorus. The smooth voiced DJ came on. “For those of you experiencing romantic problems today, this one is for you.” The music started softly but gradually became loud enough for Ellie to recognize the words of a terse ballad about taking an arrow straight to her heart. Instead of falling in love, the arrow just hurt. Even her favorite radio station was against her.
“That’s it. You’re history.” Her fingers punched scan, which enabled the radio to find the next strongest signal. Anything would better than the previous song. The scan stuttered over a couple of weak signals, settling on a woman speaking. “Do you ever wonder why you have never met your soul mate?”
Ellie sighed. Again. The scan would move on in a couple of seconds if she didn’t touch it. She answered the radio voice. “Yes, I do. “Couldn’t talk it out with Mr. Biggs once aware her property owner might overhear.
“It could be your choice of dating material.”
Wait a minute. Shouldn’t the scan move on? “Nina, is that you? Are you playing the world’s most elaborate practical joke on me?”
Her right hand felt around the radio to see if any wires led away from it. Her friend might be able to manage a feed into her radio system. Nothing. Although, it sounded exactly like what Nina would say. Her principal complaint was she dated men who didn’t treat her well. Her response was that Nina didn’t date at all. That wasn’t entirely true, but it shut her friend up for a while.
The radio voice continued. “Do you long for a man to accept you as you are and not some knockoff copy of a celebrity?” Her eyes widened considering how a radio voice knew Justin always wanted to role-play with her assuming the role of a famous singer while he was the music producer. The wig she always had to wear made her head itch.
Being herself would be nice for a change. Going out and having other people fix meals would be enjoyable, too. There was so much she wanted to do, but never mentioned knowing Justin would shoot down her ideas. It was easier not to suggest things than face rejection.
“Yes, I do, radio voice. Any suggestions?”
The voice continued, the accent more pronounced than before. “What you need is a romance aid.”
Her eyebrows shot up at the word, romance. “Seriously. I’m sure that would be in four convenient payments of $19.95.” The aid would consist of a miniscule vial of pheromone oil that smelt like sweaty gym socks. Not sure how that attracted anyone.
Static filled the air as the radio searched for another station. Now. The radio changes stations. The theme music of the old-time gospel hour filled the car. Elle recognized it since her grandmother always listened to it. A gravel-voiced minister spoke. “Believe. You have to believe. There is no power without belief.”
“Believe what?” Listen to her talk back to the radio. Was she in a current day version of The Twilight Zone where everyday devices offered advice. Worse yet, she not only talked back, but was actually starting to consider the random words as directions for living.
“Okay, radio spirits, or whatever you are. Tell me what I need?” The light turned green, allowing her to shoot through it. Almost there, if karma, fate, or whatever possessed the radio could put some speed on. Static filled the speakers as the search progressed. A swell of big band music filled the car, reminding her of all the old black and white movies she watched with her grandmother. The actors and actresses were always so elegantly dressed. Even the not so perfect men left merely with a door close or a regretful glance. They never had to be a jerk about it.
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Morgan K Wyatt, raised on a steady diet of superheroes, believed she could fly at a very young age. After using trees, barn lofts, sliding boards, and even a second story window as launch pads, she found her flying skills were limited to fast and downward.
By the age of nine, her dreams to be a superhero needed some modifications, which caused her to turn to writing and horseback riding as alternatives to flying.
At the age of twenty, she had another chance at superhero greatness as being one of the few female soldiers trained for combat. The fact that women will be able to serve in combat soon indicates that all the witnesses to the grenade incident have retired. The grenade incident didn't prevent her two sons or daughter-in-law from enlisting in the service. Having different last names probably helped.
Morgan recently retired from teaching special needs students to write full-time, instead of in the wee hours of the night. With the help of her helpful husband and loyal hound, she creates characters who often grab plot lines and run with them. As for flying, she prefers the airlines now.