CHARMED by Lorraine Zago Rosenthal: Excerpt

Charmed “addresses a range of difficult issues” and is “engaging…full of drama…a compelling love story with flawed characters and complex family dynamics.”

-Kirkus Reviews

Summary: 

When dreams are shattered, it’s hard to pick up the pieces.

Prisca Weld expected to become Mrs. Nick Fontaine before any of her friends walked down the aisle. Nick worked for her father’s lucrative construction business, and he and Prisca planned to start a family in her upscale Brooklyn neighborhood. But she’s heading into her late twenties, and she hasn’t achieved her most cherished goals. 

Years ago, Nick abruptly abandoned Prisca and ran home to Las Vegas, leaving her with nothing but questions about what went wrong between them. Since then, she has struggled to forget him, and she hasn’t found anyone she can love as much as she loved Nick. All the best men seem to be out of reach—including Tim Aldrich, a family friend who has recently returned to New York after launching his career in California. Prisca has been drawn to Tim since they were kids, although she believes her attraction to him is as futile now as it was then. 

But she still hopes to fulfill her dreams, and she also wishes she could resolve the endless conflict between her traditional father and her unconventional brother, whose childhood scars from his and Prisca’s parents’ contentious divorce are still fresh. Prisca has wounds of her own, and she tries to heal them while attempting to unravel old secrets that have been hidden for too long.  

Excerpted from Charmed by Lorraine Zago Rosenthal. Reprinted with permission. 

My eyes darted from the guests at the other tables to the door at the back of the crowded banquet hall. I stared at the door, wishing he would walk into the party. 

“Prisca,” Dad said from behind me. He leaned down so I could hear him over the music and the chatter and the knives and forks clinking. The DJ had been catering to his generation all night. I felt like we were in the middle of Jersey Boys. “They’re bringing out the cake soon.”

I turned in my seat and reached up to straighten the tie he wore with a dark suit. He’d spent most of his life in paint-splattered jeans and grimy T-shirts with WELD CONSTRUCTION printed across the front. He still wore those shirts when he barked orders at his employees inside under-renovation houses and apartments throughout New York City.

“I want both of you up front with me,” he said as the pulsating lights around the dance floor changed color and turned his thick, white hair purple. “Where’s Asher?”
I let go of Dad’s tie and scanned the room again. Waiters filled glasses, and a hundred guests drank and danced and laughed. Somebody came through the door, but it was just Dad’s best friend, Kevin Aldrich, who’d grown up with him here in Brooklyn. Kevin held hands with his much-younger wife. Dad used to have one of those too. 

“He’s over there,” I said, spotting my brother across the room. 

“Go get him,” Dad said. “Only him.”

My gaze shifted back to Asher. He was sipping a drink, and he wasn’t alone. 

“Dad,” I said, “I can’t tell his date to—”

“We’re taking family pictures. She isn’t family.”

Dad’s straight nose seemed sharp when he was angry. His grayish-blue eyes pierced mine.

“Okay,” I said.

He walked away and mingled with his guests. I stood up and headed past the dance floor in my high heels and my sleeveless cocktail dress, looking between Asher and the door.

It opened, and two servers came through. They carefully carried Dad’s birthday cake that had three tiers and smooth icing and seventy candles. But the only person I wanted to see was Nick Fontaine. He was my first boyfriend, and I hadn’t seen him since he went home to Las Vegas the summer after I graduated from high school. That was eight years ago. 

There was a tap on my shoulder. I turned toward an attractive redhead in a slinky dress. 

“Camille,” I said, catching a whiff of her heavy perfume. “How are you?”

“How are you?” she asked. “And how’s your mother?” 

Mom was fifty-three—the same age as Camille, Kevin’s statuesque second wife. Camille had fake breasts, toned arms, and shapely legs from her youth as a wannabe Broadway dancer who hadn’t made it further than a theater in her hometown of Atlantic City.

“They won’t fire her, will they?” Camille said. “It’d be so unfair if they don’t let her stay on the show. What happened is a tragedy, but it’s her family’s fault…not hers.” She shook her head. “Those gossip sites are trying to humiliate her. The public loves this sort of thing.”

I tried to block Mom’s global shaming from my mind. “I have to go,” I said. “I’m sorry. We’re taking pictures.”

I rushed away, passed the door that stayed shut, and pushed my bangs out of my hazel eyes. My long hair was naturally wavy and a deep shade of auburn like Dad’s used to be. He was tall, but I wasn’t. Only Asher had inherited Dad’s height. He also had the straight, shiny, sandy-blond hair that ran in Mom’s family. It was their only blessing. 

I reached Asher and smiled at his willowy date. “It’s good to see you, Aracelis,” I told her.

“You too, Prisca,” she said. “You look stunning.”

“Likewise,” I said, admiring how well she spoke English. She’d taught herself by watching American TV in Peru. I was about to compliment her when Dad showed up and stood beside me. 

He was in good shape for his age, and he hadn’t lost the strength to demolish bathrooms and knock down walls. Still, his square jawline had weakened, and there were lines in his forehead and deep creases around his eyes. He used to look like a movie star, though—one who was ruggedly handsome enough to land a twenty-three-year-old wife when he was forty.

“So,” he said, “it’s time to cut the cake.”

“Okay,” said Asher. “Aracelis, come with us and—”

“I can’t,” she said. “I have to run to the ladies’ room.”

She walked away in her sequined dress, and I was relieved that nobody had to say she wasn’t welcome in our photos. 

Dad turned toward Asher. “You had to bring her. Didn’t you?”

“Calm down,” Asher said dryly. 

Dad’s lips tightened. “You know how I feel. I’ve made it clear.”

“Yup,” Asher said, running his finger along the rim of the half-empty glass he was holding. “You’ve expressed your prejudice most definitively.”

“I’m not prejudiced,” Dad snapped. “That has nothing to do with—” 

“Aracelis is lovely,” I said, “and she’s smart. She works at—”

“Did I ask you?” Dad said, glaring at me. “Did I ask you to recite her resume?”

I took a step back. The DJ played Frankie Valli singing “Who Loves You,” my head throbbed, and I glanced at the door but saw only a waiter carrying a bottle of wine. 

“No,” I said. “But I was trying to explain that—”

“—Aracelis is a good person,” Asher said. “You don’t know her, Dad. You—” 

“And you,” Dad said, pointing his finger at Asher’s face, “should stop antagonizing me. You do it whenever you can…even on my birthday.”

I rubbed my aching forehead. My stomach churned as I glanced between Dad, Asher, and the entrance. The door stayed shut, and my father and brother exchanged searing stares. I’d seen this too many times, and tonight was supposed to be a happy occasion, and Nick wasn’t coming, was he? Why had I been delusional enough to think he would? He’d been gone for so long.

—

Charmed will be released by Tribeca Press on October 22, 2024. 

Pre-order HERE

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In addition to Charmed, Lorraine Zago Rosenthal is the author of Other Words for Love (Random House); New Money (St. Martin’s Press); and Independently Wealthy (St. Martin’s Press). Lorraine was born and raised in New York City, and she is a graduate of the University of South Florida. She earned a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology and Master’s degrees in Education and English. She currently lives near Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband. 

Website: www.lorrainezagorosenthal.com

Twitter/X: https://x.com/lorrainezago

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Category: Contemporary Women Writers