Fairy Godmothers, Incorporated Book 2
Date Published: 10-28-2025
Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing
she struggles with the challenges of single parenthood. Doctor Alexandros
(Xander) Arvanitas lost his family in a tragic accident. Burying himself in
work helps him cope with his grief. What happens when you add a fairy
godmother who loves playing matchmaker into the equation? Does Rainy have a
formula for fate?
EXCERPT
The car pulled up to the fancy wrought-iron gates of the cemetery. He dismissed his athletic wear with a tad of chagrin. Alessa wasn’t judgmental in life. Hopefully that hadn’t changed in death. He traversed the maze of grave markers until he found hers. Like all the frequent visitors, he knew the exact location of his loved ones and could get there without any assistance. He ran his hand over the curved facing, tracing his index finger over the engraved names—Alessa and Angel, the only appropriate name for his lost baby boy—on the monument. The shiny stone was cold to the touch, reminding him there was no life here. His eyes welled with tears. During his other visits, he had maintained a conversational approach, albeit one-sided, talking to her like it was any other day. But today, it didn’t even feel like she was here. He struggled to remember the smell of her perfume, the taste of her skin. It’d been easy to convince himself her absence was temporary, but he’d been in deep denial.
“Hi, Alessa.”
There was no response, but that was unsurprising. However, the hollowness he’d expected didn’t materialize. Instead, a comforting blanket of understanding surrounded him. If he’d believed in the supernatural, he might even think Alessa’s spirit had come to reassure him.
“It’s been so hard without you.”
Hard was barely an adequate description of his pain. He constantly felt the loss of his family, physically, like the missing limb of an amputee. A phantom pain. An eternal emptiness. A loss of immeasurable proportions.
“I miss you every day.” He choked on his words. “I don’t want to live without you, but there must be some reason I’m here, and you’re not.” A tear flowed freely down his cheek. “I’ve been holding on, like any day now you’ll walk back through the door, but I have to … I have to come to terms. You’re really gone. But know this, Alessa, you—and Angel—will never be forgotten.”
Living while his family had died wasn’t fair. Survivor’s guilt, they called it. But he was here, and, somehow, he had to carry on. The other option was not an option. The only question was how. How to recover from such an unsurmountable loss. Therapy was a good first step. But he knew logically a patient’s willingness to receive medical treatment of any kind contributed to the success of the treatment.
“I love you both.”
He walked away then, agony consuming his entire body. Every step he took caused gut-wrenching misery, like being ripped apart limb by limb. Some part of him considered pain cathartic, but it had gone on too long. It had spilled over into his professional life, affecting his career and possibly his ability to help his patients. Patients he could save, unlike his wife and baby. Maybe it was time. “I wish the pain would end.” He uttered the words softly, practically under his breath, as he stepped into the light—literally, as the path toward the gate moved away from the canopy of weeping willows. Nothing changed, but everything changed.
* * *
Not far away, three middle-aged ladies gathered together in a cozy café. They leaned forward, staring intently at a crystal ball placed in the middle of the table. The youngest of the trio, a blonde with her hair styled in a fashionable bob, wiped a stray tear rolling down her cheek. “I remember the tragic accident that took his family. He wasn’t ready for our help then, but I think he needs us now.”
“Can we help him?”
“Of course.”
“You know perfectly well, love is on the no-wish list.” The sensible-looking, red-haired woman tapped her neatly manicured fingernails on the table. “Along with wealth and health.”
“But he didn’t ask to fall in love again.” The blonde shook her head adamantly. “He’s ready to move on with life, but he doesn’t know where to start.”
“And how do you suggest we help?”
The blonde blushed in response.
The third woman, a brunette with large bouncy curls, arched one eyebrow. “That’s what I thought.”
About the Author
writes compelling stories with authentic characters and happily-ever-afters.
When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, listening to music
(alternative rock, especially from the 1990s), practicing yoga, and watching
movies and TV.
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