The history of superstition is also a history of timing. Bad luck-particularly of the sort arising from ignoring intuition and superstitions-that's another thing altogether. If that sounds like a contradiction, I suppose maybe it is. And his great- granddaughter never forgave him-but I guess in some perverse way she got justice.) Three years after doing it, he had a heart attack. Beyond stealing someone's lucky four- leaf clover. I may talk about hitting the lottery, but the truth is I never play because deep inside-on some level that's so far down it's beneath where I keep the memory of the time I walked in on my parents showering-I know there's no such thing as luck.īut I also have learned that believing there's no such thing as luck is very unlucky. Well, let's just agree you're going to be waiting awhile. What I meant is that waiting to accidentally run into Richard Branson in line to buy a burger at the very moment he's desperately looking for a new Executive Vice President of Adventure and Party Planning ("You'll just have to do," he says as he whisks you away in the limo), or waiting for that falling safe to just miss hitting you before it smashes through the sidewalk and plummets into a sewer tunnel, or waiting for a wealthy, athletic, artistic, wise, unpretentious, multilingual, manly, sensitive contradiction of impossible handsomeness to lean over and say, "Excuse me-I believe I left my stethoscope here on the way to the children's hospital". In this life, you could grow old sitting around waiting to get lucky. "synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title. Is their romance doomed by the numbers-or is a girl who leaves nothing to chance finally ready to gamble?Ĭaprice Crane’s witty, winsome novel about the game of modern romance proves that with a little luck and the right stakes, everybody wins. Ryan is funny and sexy, and he thinks Berry’s quirkiness is cute. Their on-air battle of the sexes is a hit for the station and sparks some serious heat after hours. But fellow DJ Ryan Riley goes against the odds. Two disastrous relationships back-to-back can mean only one thing to a woman who knows that everything good or bad happens in threes: A third Mr. When it comes to love, though, she could use a little luck. She keeps a four-leaf clover in her wallet, never takes off her horseshoe necklace, and won’t tempt fate by walking under a ladder or opening an umbrella indoors.
Los Angeles radio DJ Beryl “Berry” Lambert, whose name means luck, doesn’t much believe in it-although, thanks to her dear old gambling dad, she’s a bit superstitious, certain that everything happens for a reason. If love is in the cards, then somebody stacked the deck.
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