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Magic For Joy
by Holly Jacobs
ISBN #1-893896-19-6
released 11-2000
Rereleased 4/2016


Take three fairies, add the Aaronson family and watch out for those happily-ever-afters... that is if Max, Joy and Nick can survive their courtships! "Do you believe in fairies? You will believe when you read this heart-warming and funny tale of the magic of true love."
~J. A. Ferguson, author of Dreamshaper

Joy Aaronson is an accident waiting to happen. She's long since learned to accept her ability to create catastrophes, and she definitely doesn't need help in that arena. But help's just what she's getting.

The fairies are back! And Myrtle, Fern, and Blossom have decided that Joy isn't joyful. They're going to change that. They're bound and determined tosee to it another Aaronson bites the matrimonial bullet. It doesn't matter to them if Joy's Prince Charming, Gabriel St. John, thinks she's comfortable. They're sure he'll eventually fall in love with her. In fact, they're counting on it. But can Joy count on the three bumbling fairies to make her dreams come true?

If Gabriel and Joy survive Myrtle, Fern, and Blossom's help, they just might just discover the Magic of Joy!

A Holly Jacobs' Classic Dear Fairy Godmother Series
Mad About Max
Magic for Joy
Miracles for Nick
Fairly Human

BOOK, Reviews, Excerpt

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Reviews:


"Do you believe in fairies? You will believe when you read this heart-warming and funny tale of the magic of true love." ~J. A. Ferguson, author of Dreamshaper

"...a warm, witty, and touching story..." Harriet Klausner


"...another winner... It was a feel good kind of read."
~Leslie Tramposch For PNR Reviews

BOOK, Reviews, Excerpt

EXCERPT: Magic for Joy
by Holly Fuhrmann

Chapter One

"Joy."

Joy paused and looked behind her. The only thing that met her eye was the empty, unfamiliar room she’d been assigned for the duration of the house-party. Despite the chills climbing up her spine, she forced herself to return to her unpacking.

All day long she'd felt like she was being watched, which was absurd. Who on Earth would want to watch her? She gave a little laugh. No one. That was the answer. She was boringly normal, not the type of woman to inspire anyone to follow her. Five feet and three inches of well-padded normalcy. No chestnut curls or azure eyes. Nope. Just straight brown hair and blue eyes. Normal. No secret admirers, no stalkers. Not for Joy Aaronson.

"Joy."

She jumped and whirled around. This time the room wasn't empty. Three elderly ladies stood side-by-side, watching her. No, not just watching, they were studying her. Joy's mouth was suddenly as dry as the Sahara, and the chills blew Arctic against her backbone.

"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong room."

The trio smiled in unison. It might have been endearing if the entire situation wasn't so eerie. She hadn't heard the door open, hadn't heard a sound.

Joy took in her uninvited guests. They were small women, smaller than Joy herself. None of them could be over four and a half feet tall. They were in their mid-fifties, Joy would guess. A redhead was sporting a sequined red dress with stiletto-heeled shoes that belonged on someone thirty years her junior. A brunette wore a green, Orient-inspired dress. And a blonde—whose hair was a hideous shade of yellow that belonged on a canary not on a human—was wearing a buttercup gown that would have looked at home with Scarlet O'Hara on Tara.

The trio was as extraordinarily different as Joy was ordinary to the point of boring. They were the type that might attract a stalker.

Joy smiled sympathetically. There was no use alienating the weird trio when she planned to beg favors from them later. "The maid showed me up to this room, so I'm pretty sure I'm in the right one. You might want to go check with her. She'll be able to point you all in the right direction."

"Joy, we're not in the wrong room by mistake," said the brunette.

"We don't make mistakes," said the blonde. The redheadhead shot her a funny look, and the blonde hastily added, "Well, not often." Another red-raised eyebrow. "Okay, maybe we make mistakes, but they all turn out right in the end. And we're not mistaken about the room, or who's in it. We're looking for you."

"Girls, I suggest you allow me to make our introductions." The redheadhead was obviously accustomed to taking charge. "Joy, we know about Ripples, and that's one of the reasons we're here, to see to it this fund-raising party is successful."

Ripples was Joy's non-profit foundation that funded a number of small charities. She'd realized years ago she couldn't change the world, but Ripples was Joy's attempt to change small corners of it.

"Ripples can use all the friends, and all the help with fund-raising, we can get." Raising money for Ripples was the reason Joy was attending this upscale house party, and though she welcomed their help, something about these three women still made her nervous. "I'm glad Mrs. St. John has already started to spread the word about the foundation and what we do."

"Actually, she didn't. At least not that we know of. You see, we're friends of your brother. Actually we knew Grace first, but we've come to know and love Max as well."

Joy sank to the bed, blatantly staring at the three. Friends of Grace’s? Grace was a romance author who wrote about three bumbling fairy godmothers. Godmothers who... now that Joy stopped and thought about it... these women were dressed exactly like. A simple explanation occurred to her.

"Is this party a costume one? How wonderful of you to dress up like Grace's fairy godmothers. Did Trudi tell you I was coming? If everyone's costume is as great as yours, I'm going to stick out like a sore thumb. I just brought a cocktail dress."

"Darling, you obviously don't know Trudi." The brunette shook her head. "She would never do anything as crass as holding a costume party."

"And if she did we'd come as something other than ourselves." The blonde turned to her companions. "Do you remember Leila's party? I so enjoy the can-can costumes. We could go in those again."

"There is no costume party," the redhead reminded her.

"Oh."

Seeing the blonde's face fall in disappointment, Joy almost wished there was a costume party. "Maybe next time," she offered softly.

The older woman’s smile was as bright as her banana-colored hair.

"Ladies, I'm sorry. I still don't understand what I can do for you."

The blonde and brunette looked as if they were about to say something, but the redhead held up a hand, silencing them. "I've told you two over and over again, let me handle these initial meetings. All you do with your chatter is confuse our goddaughters."

"Goddaughter?" Joy's smile drooped a bit, and a faint headache began to stir behind her eyes.

The redhead nodded encouragingly. "Joy, you see, we're here to help you."

"Help me raise money for Ripples?"

"Oh, no. We're here to help you find your own true love," the redhead said as the other two bobbed their heads in agreement. "We're your fairy godmothers."

Joy tried to laugh. This was some joke. Max must be behind it.

Despite his doctorly occupation, he had always enjoyed tormenting her, trying to convince her that she needed his psychiatric help. "Okay, you three. The joke's over. Tell my dear brother, Max, it didn't work."

"Dear, we're not joking." The redhead did indeed look deadly serious. "We've been watching you for quite sometime."

Obviously not able to remain silent, the brunette piped in, "And we know..."

The blonde cut her off. "Yes, we know that you're not happy. You're missing something."

The two took off, bouncing sentences right after the other's.

"You're missing a good man—"

"Not that we're saying you need a man to make you complete—"

"Certainly not. This is the new millennium, and women have learned to stand on their own two feet—"

"And you've done a great job—"

"But you need—"

"Yes, you need something more—"

"Someone more—"

"And we're—"

"Girls." The redhead had had enough. The two shut up.

Joy was grateful. Trying to watch the two of them as they talked had been like trying to watch a high speed tennis ball fly back and forth on the court. Her headache was going to be complicated by a stiff neck.

"Now," said the redhead, once again in charge of the very odd, probably crazy, trio. Maybe they were three of Max's patients, escapees from some asylum. Did they even have asylums anymore?

"Joy." The redhead pulled her from her ruminations. "We realize that this is all confusing, but we know you've read Grace's books, so we know you know how this works. In case you hadn't guessed, I'm Myrtle." Myrtle gestured to the blonde. " She is Blossom, and this is Fern." The brunette nodded.

"We've been looking for your Mr. Right for quite some time, and we've finally found him," Blossom said in a rush. "The problem was he didn't really look like a right..."

Fern interrupted. "More like a wrong. There were quite a few strikes against."

"But there was the wish to consider," Blossom said.

"And you would be an answer to one, despite the strikes against the other," Fern said.

"Helen, for instance," Blossom muttered.

"Plus he was badly burned by—"

"Girls." The sisters were silent. "Suffice to say, that despite some hurdles that will have be to overcome, we have found the perfect man for you. And despite the problems you might have to face, you know we'll be right beside you every step of the way."

It was too much. Joy didn't know if she should take some aspirin—or maybe a Valium— or call Max for a reference. Maybe she should call Grace, since the trio claimed to be her brainchildren. The tempo of her headache picked up speed as she considered what she should do next. Were the three women the crazy ones, or was she? "I don't understand what precisely is going on, but I wish you'd all leave. I have an important party—"

"Full of important people with deep pockets," Blossom said, nodding as if she knew what was going on.

"I can't deal with this joke. Tell Max I said, Ha, Ha."

"Sweetheart, we'll let you get ready for your party, but we'll be back to talk to you soon." The redhead, Myrtle, smiled. "We just wanted to drop in and say hello before the fun begins."

The three disappeared in the blink of an eye. They were either very quiet and very quick, or they were really fairy—

Joy shut off the thought. She would be crazy if she believed they were fairy godmothers. And crazy is just what Max, and his sick sense of humor, wanted her to think she was, so she wouldn't. She was going to take some aspirin, get dressed and go to this party. And reach into all those lovely deep pockets, taking as much money as possible for Ripples. And, most of all, she was going to forget this odd scene had ever been played out.

That's exactly what she was going to do.

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