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eBook Category: Romance/Fantasy
eBook Description: Susanna Quinton has always led the perfect life. She's the perfect daughter, student, friend. Now she's engaged to the perfect man, Jonathan Wisner, heir to the Wisner empire. So why does she feel like the life is being squeezed out of her ... Even the beautiful resort in Oklahoma where she is to meet her future-in-laws isn't enough to raise her spirits ... Vic Norwood, park ranger for the Rolling Thunder Lodge, thinks his life is just about perfect, too. He loves Oklahoma, he loves his job, and he wants no complications, especially of the female variety ... But Roberto O'Riley, Spanish leprechaun turned cupid extraordinare, has different plans for everyone. And once he gets involved, well, life will never be the same for Susanna or Vic.

eBook Publisher: The Fiction Works, Published: 1999
Fictionwise Release Date: April 2006

9 Reader Ratings:

Great	Good	OK	Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [174 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [170 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [139 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [824 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [158 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [151 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [197 KB] , hiebook (KML) [384 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [198 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [129 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [161 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [198 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [202 KB]
Words: 46456
Reading time: 132-185 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Portable Document Format (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"That Ol' Pastel Magic is a charming story with delightful characters and an engaging plot. Susanna Quinton and Vic Norwood are both warm and appealing people, making it entirely credible that they'd fall so hard and so quickly for each other. But it's Roberto O'Riley who takes over the book and steals every scene in which he appears. The Spanish/Irish leprechaun is a thoroughly wonderful creation, an impulsive, charming, maddening, roguish and ultimately heart-warming character whose antics produce a series of hilarious scenes that had me laughing out loud. If you're looking for a book that offers a heaping dose of humor with its touching love story, look no further."--Karen McCullough, Scribes World Reviews

"That Ol' Pastel Magic is fun, quirky and unique. Prepare to be charmed by an irresistible hero and a mischievous matchmaking leprechaun."--Jennifer Archer, Body and Soul

Warm, sultry nights. Bullfights and matadors. Just the thought of hot-blooded Spaniards romancing their beautiful seoritas made Susanna Quinton's heart beat faster.

She closed her eyes and sank deeper into her fantasy. If she were the seorita, she'd wear flaming red and black lace. The neckline would plunge all the way to her waist, and the handsome matador would tilt her head backward, lavishing hot kisses down the column of her neck. Slowly, he'd retrace the fiery path until his lips captured hers. When he lifted his head and their gazes locked.... It was useless. The matador was faceless once again.

Susanna flipped open her eyes and shot a glance across the dining table at Jonathan. Jonathan F. Wisner, II. Her fiance. An invisible band tightened around her throat. She fought the increasingly familiar panic. Was she making a terrible mistake? She and Jonathan needed to have a serious talk. Perhaps they should postpone the wedding until things were more settled.

Had it truly been a good idea to meet his parents here at Rolling Thunder State Park in Oklahoma? It had seemed like a smart move at the time to meet on neutral ground, halfway between her home in Raleigh, Texas, and the Wisners' home in Denver, Colorado.

Susanna let her gaze wander to the window. Whatever reason had brought her to the beautiful resort, she was glad. Spread out below the second story restaurant was a spectacular view of the sparkling lake dotted with colorful sailboats. Skiers skimmed across the top of the smooth, aqua surface, leaving a frothy white V in their wake. A perfect day for frolicking in the sun. Or for sealing one's fate.

Susanna fought down a wave of anxiety with a sip of lemon-laced tea. A drop of condensation fell onto the white linen tablecloth.

Although jitters pulsed through Susanna, Jonathan F. Wisner, II, up and coming vice-president of Wisner Enterprises, Inc., appeared as cool as slivered ice. He always did, which probably explained why executives and corporate board members put their trust in him and his company's computers.

Her parents had been ecstatic at the announcement of their engagement. Perhaps she'd taken Jonathan home too early in their relationship. With each passing day, his personality was revealed more clearly. Upon arriving in Oklahoma, Jonathan had undergone a metamorphosis. Gone was the usual supportive friend, replaced by a pernicious nitpicker. Until they'd arrived at the state park, Jonathan and she had shared a compatible and mutually respectful relationship. Now, all he could do was criticize.

Without glancing up from the papers he was perusing, Jonathan broke into her thoughts. "By the way, Susanna, we won't be going to Spain after all. I've arranged for us to honeymoon in Ireland. It will be more convenient. Father has arranged for me to close a business deal in Dublin. The whole trip can be written off on my taxes."

"Dublin? Ireland? When did you make this decision?" Irritation clipped her words. She drew a deep, calming breath. "Jonathan, don't you think this is something we should decide together?"

"I didn't think you'd mind. After all, Ireland is a beautiful country. Besides, this trip is costing me a small fortune. I don't think I should pass up an opportunity to use it to my advantage. Your selfishness surprises me, Susanna."

Smarting under the reprimand, Susanna curbed her irritation. He was right. She was being selfish. Her thoughts floated back to the imaginary matador. Bye, handsome. Some other time. What a shame! Spain would have been a divine place for a honeymoon. Somehow, the thought of hot-blooded leprechauns romancing their beautiful lassies didn't seem quite as romantic. But marriage was more than a big wedding and a two-week honeymoon.

Jonathan arranged the contracts he'd been studying into a neat stack then checked his watch. He gave Susanna a meaningful look. "Dear, Mother and Father will be here any minute. Please do something with your hair."

Her face warmed. She'd spent over an hour this afternoon styling her hair. After various attempts, she'd settled on a severe look with the heavy, tawny strands caught in a gold clasp at the nape of her neck. She'd chosen her clothes for their color and simplicity, hoping the coral silk blouse and matching linen skirt flattered her fair complexion.

First impressions were so important, and she really wanted to make a favorable one on her future in-laws. Self-consciously, she patted her hair. "I guess I could go--"

"Never mind. There's no time now, but in the future, please try to be more organized." Jonathan snapped his leather briefcase shut and stood. He held Susanna's chair for her. With his hand on her elbow, he guided her through the nearly deserted restaurant and down the shiny, hardwood stairs toward the lobby. "Really, dear, couldn't you have chosen something more appropriate to wear?"

"Jonathan, stop criticizing."

"I'm only trying to help."

"Well, you're not helping." Her nerves stretched as tight as spandex pants. Already her insides squirmed, and now her outward composure threatened to shatter. Susanna bit back the rest of the sharp retort that sprang to mind. Lately, Jonathan, who was behaving totally out of character, had been getting on her nerves. But to be fair, this was a stressful time for both of them. Now was not the time to argue. Perhaps he was more nervous than he appeared. After all, he was about to present his fiance to his parents for the first time.

Susanna shot a glance over her shoulder at Jonathan on the step above. Her right heel clipped the stair below and slid off. She lost her balance. Twisting, she flung out her arms, grasping for the rail.

With sickening speed, Susanna plunged backward the last two steps. She landed with a thud, cracking her head against the polished pinewood floor. A black hole sucked her in. An eerie sensation of sinking deeper and deeper settled over her as she floated into darkness, swaying lazily back and forth like a drifting feather. The pinpoint of light above her grew smaller and smaller. Suddenly, a cushion of cool air halted her descent and bounced her upward. Susanna whirled higher, spinning around and around. The cavernous hole spewed her out. The darkness dissipated, and her world grew light again. Indistinguishable voices penetrated her consciousness.

Susanna's lids fluttered open. Her gaze locked with the bluest pair of eyes she'd ever seen. Eyes so blue they conjured up images of snow capped mountains, fresh air, and limitless sky. A whiff of woodsy cologne enhanced the impression.

Her breath caught in her throat. Peripheral images and sounds ebbed until Susanna thought she'd washed ashore on a deserted island with only the handsome stranger for company. Was she unconscious?

He cradled her head in his huge hands and gently probed her scalp for injuries. Parting her hair, he brushed his fingers against a rapidly swelling lump. The sharp pain assured her she was indeed awake.

Reluctantly she broke contact with his stare and allowed herself to study the rest of the man kneeling over her. She received an impression of dark wavy hair, a generous mouth, broad shoulders, and a leprechaun. Susanna blinked rapidly. Sitting on the man's shoulder, directly above the name tag on his khaki uniform, sat a very tan leprechaun!

With a moan, she squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she was conscious, because she hurt. But just how hard had she hit her head?

"Are you all right, ma'am?" The man's voice was as warm as Irish whiskey.

Heat suffused her whole body. This couldn't be happening. Susanna prayed the floor would open and swallow her. She peeked out from under her lashes and read his name tag. Vic Norwood, Park Ranger. She risked a glance at his shoulder. Thank goodness the leprechaun was gone.

"Ma'am? Are you okay?" he repeated.

"Parts of me." Her dignity, no doubt, was busted beyond repair. Why did people say they could die of embarrassment? Obviously, it was impossible or she'd have expired about two minutes ago.

Suddenly she remembered Jonathan. Her gaze darted around looking for him. Her fiance stood slightly behind the park ranger, his face creased into a frown. His irritation beamed as bright as a lighthouse, effectively dispersing the crowd of curious onlookers.

"Well, Susanna, you've certainly made a mess of things now." Jonathan stepped closer and offered his hand. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"I don't think so." She reached for his hand.

A commotion at the lodge entrance distracted him. He abruptly pulled away. Susanna's fist closed around air. Caught off guard, she tilted backward into the stranger's arms again.

Jonathan rushed to greet an elegantly clad couple. They were being trailed by a scowling maintenance man, all but buried beneath the pile of leather luggage he carried. Unceremoniously he dumped the bags at the woman's feet, turned and stalked out.

"Mother, Father, you're early." Jonathan's usually smooth tone bobbed up and down like one of the buoys on the lake. He leaned down and made a kissing sound about two inches from his mother's cheek, careful to not muss her elaborate coiffure or smudge her make-up, then stiffly shook hands with his father.

Mr. Wisner, Sr. glanced around the lobby, contemptuously apprising his surroundings. His gaze lingered for the space of a heartbeat on Susanna as she lay sprawled on the floor a few feet away. His aristocratic nose inched upward.

Even from her vantage point, Susanna had no trouble reading the disdain in his eyes. Waves of misery lapped over her. She struggled to a sitting position. Vic gently supported her back. Her hair hung loose about her face, a giant run laddered her stockings, and her blouse hung half in and half out of her waistband.

Vic dusted strands of silky hair from Susanna's eyes, marveling at their clear amber color. He shot a look toward Jonathan that plainly conveyed his regard for a man who would walk away from an injured woman--especially this woman, he thought, as he glanced down at the lovely lady cradled in his arms. He felt a need to wrap his arms around her like giant wings and shield her from any harm the world might offer.

Mrs. Wisner's chilly voice lanced through the air. "Where is your fiance, Jonathan? I thought she'd be with you. I hope this isn't typical of her regard for etiquette."

Several seconds ticked by before Jonathan answered. In fact, enough time elapsed to make Susanna think Jonathan would deny her existence.

Finally with a long-suffering sigh, he turned toward her and looked down. His stiff posture and burning gaze radiated anger. In a clipped tone, he said, "Mother, Father, allow me to introduce my fiance, Susanna." He made no move toward her.

What a way to meet her future in-laws. First impressions never quite went away. Once more, she willed the floor to open and swallow her. But the cold, polished pinewood firmly supported her bottom.

Through the thin fabric of her blouse, Susanna felt the man's hand shift. While he firmly supported her back with one muscled arm, he managed to shift his other hand to her shoulder and give a gentle squeeze.

The action fortified her. Even though her insides twisted, she forced a smile. "Delighted to meet you."

From out of nowhere, the leprechaun appeared on Mrs. Wisner's head. Using the palms of his hands, he shoved aside several tufts of the almost iridescent frosted hair, relaxed into the silver valley, and grinned. A wayward strand of hair tickled across his nose. His face contorted into strange shapes as he fought the sneeze. At last he won the battle, twitched his nose, and smiled shyly.

Reaching into his pocket, the leprechaun withdrew a handful of pastel-colored dust. His eyes twinkled as he stretched out his arm and puffed with all his might. The glittery sands sprinkled across the distance and sifted onto Susanna and the stranger. Faintly, she heard the melodious chimes of bells.

Susanna stole a glance at Vic Norwood. He, in turn, was staring at her in such a way her flesh heated. Had he heard the bells, also?

An infectious giggle drew her attention again to the leprechaun. From his throne of silver hair, he grinned down at her and winked broadly.

"Love is in the air, Suzy Q. Love is in the air. And you didn't think leprechauns were as romantic as matadors."

Vic placed his hand beneath the lady's elbow and assisted her to her feet. Her beautiful eyes, which had a magnetic effect on him, were as round as saucers. She kept them trained on the top of the other woman's head. Something wasn't right.

"Ma'am, are you sure you're okay? That's quite a bump you got. Perhaps you should see a doctor."

Susanna snapped her head toward Vic, grimacing with the sudden movement. Her eyes seemed to float loose in their sockets. She tilted sideways.

Reaching out, Vic steadied Susanna. Her gaze seemed out of focus as she stared at him. But in or out of focus, the lady had one of the prettiest faces he'd ever seen. Even with her hair wild about her face and eyes dilated to flying saucer size, she retained an elegant quality, ladylike.

With a start, she came out of her reverie. "Did you say something?"

A nice voice, too. Soft and cultured. He liked the sound of it. So well, in fact, he almost forgot the question. Collecting his thoughts, he said, "You've taken a bad fall. I think you should see a doctor."

The puzzlement cleared somewhat from her face. "The fall? Yes, that's it, I'm sure. It's just that earlier, on your..." Susanna lightly tapped his shoulder. "Then on Mrs. Wisner's hair there was a, uh, a, well, you know." She leaned close to the other woman and stared at the top of her head.

Mrs. Wisner raised her bejeweled hand to her throat and lurched backward. Vic bit back a smile at the melodramatic reaction.

Jonathan positioned himself between Susanna and his mother. In a harsh whisper that carried across the lobby, he ground out, "Susanna, get a hold of yourself. You're making a fool of us all. Quit staring at Mother." He grabbed Susanna by the arm, brushing Vic aside. "Let's get out of here. We'll discuss this later."

Vic had seen and dealt with all kinds of people, both during his stint in the Army and as park ranger for Rolling Thunder Lodge the past two years. But this jerk really took the prize. Couldn't he see the lady was injured? Even Vic, who had never laid eyes on the woman before, could tell she wasn't the type to go around patting strangers on the shoulder and staring cross-eyed at someone's head. That bump she received could be serious.

Placing his hand on Jonathan's upper arm, Vic applied just enough pressure to stop him. He adopted the same tone he used when dealing with unruly teenagers on the lake. "Just a minute, please. I think the young lady needs to be examined. If you'd like, I could arrange for a physician to--"

"Thank you, Dr. Do Good." Jonathan's voice dripped with sarcasm. He raked his gaze over Vic's uniform. "I think we can handle the situation just fine without your assistance."

"The lady needs a doctor." Vic stepped closer to Jonathan. Susanna Whatever-Her-Last-Name-Was was a guest. He, Vic Norwood, was responsible for guests at the park. He'd take her to the doctor himself if he had to bodily carry her out. If Jonathan interfered, well, he could handle that, too.

Even as these thoughts raced through his mind, Vic realized how macho and foolish he was acting but seemed powerless to stop.

Susanna broke away from Jonathan. She wedged herself between the two men. Patches of heat scorched her cheeks. "I'm sorry for all of this trouble. I really am fine. I just need to lie down for a while."

Her eyes shimmered. Vic's gut clenched at the sight of the unshed tears. What right did he have to call anyone else a jerk? He was acting like Tarzan of the jungle, all but beating himself on the chest and swinging from the chandeliers in his attempt to rescue the woman, when all she wanted was to be left alone and stop having attention directed at her. She was an adult, quite capable of deciding whether or not to see a physician.

Vic ignored Susanna's companion and spoke directly to her. "That's fine, ma'am. I'm Vic Norwood. I'm the park ranger for Rolling Thunder Park. If you change your mind, just call the front desk and ask for help. I'll be right there." In a heartbeat, he added silently.

She smiled her thanks, relief evident in the way her shoulders relaxed. "I'm Susanna Quinton."

Jonathan barged in on the conversation. "Yes, well, if you are through with the introductions, Susanna, perhaps we could leave. Mother and Father are exhausted, I'm sure. After all, they have been traveling all day to meet you. This whole scene hasn't exactly been pleasant for them." He tugged on her arm, ushering her in the direction of the elevator.

Vic's fingers twitched, but he remained silent. Miss Susanna Quinton had suffered enough trauma for one day. He refused to add to her embarrassment.

Pausing, Jonathan flung an order over his shoulder at Vic. "Since you are so anxious to help, dear man, bring my parents' luggage upstairs." Almost as an afterthought, he dug in his pocket and thrust a bill at the park ranger.

Automatically, Vic accepted the money. He stared down at the crumpled dollar in his hand. His mouth dropped open. He lifted his head as the elevator door slid shut on Susanna Quinton and her entourage. But not before he glimpsed her tremulous smile and heard the faint chimes of silver bells--again. He shook his head. Must've been the elevator.

Holding the corners, Vic snapped the dollar bill, smoothing away the wrinkles. A wry grin twisted his mouth. A whole dollar. Wow. What was he supposed to do with it? He sure as heck wasn't keeping it. And he sure as heck wasn't playing bellhop for some spoiled brat. Slapping the dollar on the counter in front of the desk clerk, he said, "See that he gets this back, will you? And don't worry about the luggage. Sooner or later, one of them will figure out that Rolling Thunder Lodge isn't the Ritz."

Sauntering toward the exit, Vic analyzed the last few minutes. The whole scene had a surreal feeling. He'd been on his way upstairs to the restaurant to grab a quick cup of coffee when the most gorgeous female he'd ever seen tumbled out of the sky and landed at his feet. He'd grabbed for her, but missed. Vic cringed, recalling how hard her head had cracked against the floor.

When she opened her eyes, something happened to him. Those gorgeous amber irises sucked the breath right out of him. Even now his chest tightened just remembering how beautiful and fragile she looked lying on the floor. Her hair had washed over his hands like a silken waterfall. His reaction had been instantaneous. He wanted to protect her.

Vic smiled. Just listen to yourself, man. You'd think you were the one with the knot on your head. And after what he'd just been through, a woman--any woman--was the last thing he needed to deal with right now.

In spite of his warning to himself, Vic suddenly, and for no particular reason, felt great. He laughed out loud.

The startled desk clerk glanced up. Embarrassed, Vic rushed out the door before he gave in to the urge to pound his chest and cut loose with a Tarzan yell.