Please give a warm welcome to D.C. McMillen. She’s here with her latest release, The Wedding and she’s sharing a crazy wedding experience of her own. Before I hand it over to D.C. I have to say how much I love this cover. So pretty. 🙂 Okay, take it away, D.C.
by D.C. McMillen
Released: April 5, 2013
Publisher: MuseItUp Publishing
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Since my latest release, The Wedding, involves a girl who would rather suffer from mild to moderate intestinal issues than actually attend one of these stuffy, boring affairs, I’ve decided it would be fitting for me to share my most heinous experience in relation to a wedding.
A few years ago, a good friend invited me to attend a wedding in Istanbul. The paper invite was written in Turkish so my friend preceded the formal invitation with a phone call. It did not exactly take a lot of convincing for me to agree. Finally, a wedding I could actually look forward to! I hung up the phone and went online to book our flights. Things sort of went downhill from there. Here is a list of things that went wrong, in chronological order:
- The groom’s appendix burst one week before the wedding and all guests were warned that he might not get out of the hospital in time for the ceremony. The boyfriend and I decided to risk it instead of cancelling the flights.
- The airlines cancelled and rebooked our flights no less than six times. The morning of the flight, they were still sending me notifications that my flight schedule had been rearranged.
- After making it to my stopover in the US on a US based airline without incident, Turkish Air had no record of me in their system. They had my boyfriend’s seat booked but not mine. Apparently, the US airline neglected to book my connecting flight with them after their final schedule change that morning.
- One and a half minutes before the flight was scheduled, after they had closed the doors and told me there was no way they could seat me until their next evening’s flight, they worked something out, re-opened the doors and let me in.
- I arrived in Istanbul a million years later but, of course, my luggage did not. My suitcase held my outfit for the Turkish version of a shower as well as both my boyfriend’s and my outfit and shoes for the wedding, and the toiletries.
- After choosing random brands of new toiletries, I discovered that I was allergic to the deodorant. A red flaming rash on my underarms appeared.
- A lovely friend of the bride lent me an outfit for the shower. Unfortunately it was about two sizes too small in the bust and about one size too small in the waist. Muslim grandmothers glared and clucked their tongues at my overflowing breasts and tightly clad body.
- The boyfriend and I attended the wedding ceremony in casual clothes.
- My luggage arrived to the bride’s house right before the reception. We rushed though Istanbul (rushing through Istanbul, btw, is insanely difficult. It is HUGE and very congested) to get to her house and hurriedly scrambled into our clothing. I did my hair slapped on makeup and headed down the stairs. The wedding party clapped and complimented my dress. For the first time in days, I felt pretty. My unique dress was a brilliant blue fading to a deep purple at the bottom. My breasts were fully secured and no cleavage could be seen, thanks to the high neck and criss-crossing straps. The A-line skirt cut off below the knees and my silk shawl, purchased in Istanbul, fit in with the occasion and culture. The Muslim grandmothers visibly approved. One pinned an evil eye charm to the inside of my dress to help me ward off evil spirits.
- We went back across town to attend the reception. My dress was like no other and many of the local women came over to compliment and touch it. I made friends quickly and started to relax.
- The only other Canadian female guest showed up about ten minutes after I arrived. She wore the same dress as me. Now, I bought this dress at a boutique downtown so the chance of this happening to anyone else is practically zero. I’d met this girl twice in Canada and thought she was nice but now I hated her, and the dress. I hated her and the dress even more when she laughed, pointed out our faux-pas to every English speaking person within earshot and suggested we take several photos together. I hated her so much when I found out at the end of the evening that she had brought a pretty short-sleeved silk knit top that she could have worn all evening and, because of the fading colours, it would have looked like we were wearing two different outfits.
So that, folks, is just one wedding that I’ve attended where everything seemed to go wrong for me. Now it’s your turn. What was your worst experience at a wedding? The most spectacular story will win a copy of The Wedding! And speaking of The Wedding, here is a little more about my latest release, which is a follow up to The Rental. Don’t worry; The Rental is not a definite prerequisite to The Wedding. It is, however, a fun and entertaining read for those of you who are dying to know how Karen and Allen met.
Karen is not the type to attend a wedding with a guy she’s only slept with once but, in a rare display of empathy, she agrees to accompany her new landlord Allen to this sure-to-be-boring function. Fortunately, Karen knows how to have a good time, and she’s pretty sure she and Allen can make their own fun…even if they have to do it in the outdoors just steps away from a couple hundred stuffy wedding guests.
The Wedding, mini-excerpt:
The car rumbled to life and he pulled from the roundabout into traffic. He seemed at ease, his hand alternately resting on my thigh and the shifter. As we neared our destination, however, his comfort steadily dissipated. His fingers tapped against the wheel and he smoothed his other hand along the thigh of his dress pants. Jesus, I hope he’s not going to act like this all night. There better be an open bar.
“So, uh, like I said,” he said finally. “My ex-best friend and his wife won’t be there.”
“Uh huh,” I said, distracted. Who doesn’t have an open bar at a wedding these days? No one, that’s who. God, I hope the champagne is good. I need an overflowing glass of expensive champagne, like, ten minutes ago. Since when does Karen Valentine go to weddings as someone’s date?
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D.C. McMillen enjoys writing about dirty sex in questionable places but has been known to write about other subjects, on special occasions. She is featured in MuseItHot’s Short & Spicy line up with The Rental, The Wedding and A Decent December. D.C.’s short stories and flash fiction can be found in several anthologies and other print and online publications. She is obsessed with Twitter and invites you to look her up at @mcmillendc, on her blog, or Facebook.
Thank you so much for hosting me today!
You’re very welcome DC. 🙂
I try not to go to weddings. I mean, I’ve been to 2 of my own…but those don’t count, right? I have read your book though, and I love THAT wedding. And thanks to you, I’ll NEVER go to a wedding in Istanbul. One should never forget the lessons learned by others…that’s what I always say. 🙂
Thanks for commenting, Erica! And thank you for reading The Wedding. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I would go to another wedding in Istanbul, I would just pack two dresses, one in the boyfriend’s suitcase and one in mine. 😉
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