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Is She The One?
Is She The One?
Is She The One?
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Is She The One?

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Is She The One is a love story that takes place in 2011. It involves a hapless real estate agent (Bob) who falls for a strong, beautiful mysterious woman named Sofie who he later learns is really named Roxanne. Instead of being angry about being lied to, Bob finds a woman lying to him a breath of fresh air. The narrator Bob takes us through this tale of romance with humor and straightforwardness. Earnestly wanting to find a life partner and not just another "crummy one night stand" Bob creates his 4 rules for dating. Here’s an example of one such rule: “My heart had been broken too many times by women with blonde hair, so I felt certain hair color had something to do with it. Since Goldilocks had slept in every bed, I figured the moral of the story was to only date brunettes.” When Bob meets the beautiful, mysterious, take-no-crap Roxanne, and the romance heats up in this book, the love story from the male point of view becomes charming and endearing. Warning: there are times in the book, when Bob shows himself to be a selfish pig but realize too, he is in the process of sorting himself out and figuring out his own character flaws (such as selfishness). There is a nice humorous realistic process behind how Bob figures out things on his own and thus his character changes from beginning to the end. The ending can be seen a mile away but this is a quick enjoyable read with an ending that most rom com fans will love.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRobert Boog
Release dateFeb 1, 2018
ISBN9781370064618
Is She The One?
Author

Robert Boog

My name is Bob Boog and I pronounce "boog" like "boogie man" although someone from Holland told me the word "boog" means "bow" like a bow and arrow. I write as a hobby: Facebook posts, books, poems, songs, and screenplays - my hobbies include petting my dogs, watching movies, and hanging out with my wife & kids, friends and family.

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    Book preview

    Is She The One? - Robert Boog

    Is She The One:

    A Partly True Romantic Comedy

    Copyright 2017 Bob Boog

    Published by Bob Boog at Smashwords

    Smashwords Edition License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    © 2017

    Is She The One

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2017 Robert Boog

    The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and no harm is intended by the author.

    All rights reserved.

    Cover design by Michaela Haze

    ISBN: 9781370064618

    Table of Contents

    Chapter One: Caravan Day

    Chapter Two: The Psychic

    Chapter Three: Looking for Love

    Chapter Four: The Bonaventure

    Chapter Five: First Date

    Chapter Six: Lying at a Picnic

    Chapter Seven: The Naked Truth

    Chapter Eight: The Talk

    Chapter Nine: The Dump

    Chapter Ten: Moving Day

    Chapter Eleven: Trading Places

    Chapter Twelve: Ruined

    Chapter Thirteen: Road Trip

    Chapter Fourteen: Epilogue

    Preview: Love Isn’t Easy

    About the Author Bob Boog

    Other Books by Bob Boog

    Caravan Day

    Someone once wrote that true love comes in quietly like the fog. The heart, they say, is timeless. While this may be true for some people, for me, finding my soulmate officially started on a specific date: January 13, 2011.

    The morning was a balmy one in sunny Southern California. I was driving my new, black, Honda sedan that still boasted a brand-new-car scent. The dry, warm climate made it seem like summer and the perfect weather to preview the latest real estate offerings in the Valencia area.

    Most real estate offices across the United States designate one day for all agents to view new property listings. In our area, that day happens to be on Fridays.

    Where are we headed to next? I asked Joel.

    Joel Watkins, a fellow realtor, rode shotgun but pretended not to hear me. Jesus, isn’t this pathetic? He pointed to his right. Look at these homes! They’re all the same! It’s like they were cut out from greeting cards. Now, don’t get me wrong, giving somebody a greeting card has got to be the most festive way I know to deposit five bucks into their trashcan. But seriously, this is downright depressing!

    I was following a caravan of five other vehicles so I had to keep my eyes on the road, but I knew what he was talking about. Our master-planned city consisted of thousands of tract homes with wide avenues governed by homeowner associations. Most of the homes were painted in either white- or earth-tones. Some bore red tile roofs with a tree planted in a tiny manicured front yard. It gave a well-kept appearance that most people appreciated. Excluding Joel and others like him.

    In his hot, sweaty hand Joel held a printed list of broker open houses. A few advertised free lunches. One offered a $50 drawing just for leaving a business card, and the last one on the list proclaimed: Happy Friday the 13th! Get a free psychic reading. This one seemed the most interesting.

    Hey, Bob. Would you do her? Joel suddenly asked me. No peeking. Answer me: ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’

    This again? I asked. I didn’t roll my eyes but probably should have.

    Come on. Would you have sex with her?

    No, I answered. I kept my gaze straight ahead on the road.

    You’re sure about that? He tried to make it sound more enticing. Positive?

    Yes.

    Damn you! he exclaimed. Yeah, she’s a grandma. Toothless, old hag!

    The woman in the car next to us suddenly flipped him off. Jesus, can you believe the nerve of that woman?

    Maybe she heard you, I snickered.

    "Nah. Hey, ever notice how some of these grandmas get offended and scared when they hear the word penis, but then they have like twelve kids?"

    I laughed.

    "It’s true. It’s like, calm the frick down lady, I only said the word penis. I didn’t whip it out and dangle my ding-dong right in front of you."

    I laughed again and shook my head. There was a ten second pause as I settled down to respond. Okay. I have an important question to ask you. Ready?

    I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

    Then I chickened out. I wasn’t sure if Joel even knew the answer to my question. I had started writing a journal because I wanted to know what I was doing wrong. What did I need to do to find the right woman? Also, how would I know when I did find The One? I seriously wanted to know the answers to these questions but before I opened my big mouth, I reconsidered. What was I doing asking Joel? Not only was he not an expert, but knowing Joel, he would probably utter something stupid like, "You’re not doing anything wrong. Every girl can be The One." That’s probably the advice he would offer (most likely rendered in a much cruder fashion) and though it might make sense, I wanted to get a more well-reasoned opinion and write it down.

    I’m waiting, he replied. Then he farted. Loud. It smelled like rotten eggs.

    God. You’re disgusting! I cringed as I caught a whiff. Joel grinned.

    I shook my head and changed my mind. I decided to ask him something less personal. Something he wouldn’t make fun of me for.

    Well? Joel asked.

    I stalled. What should I say? Could I dare be honest with him?

    Um. What’s your secret for staying single for so long? I tried to make it sound like I was dying to get the answer to that question.

    Joel looked over. Easy. Porn. A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

    I’ve always had a problem with porn, I noted.

    Really? he asked Is it a religious thing?

    Nah, it’s not that. My problem with porn is I get too invested with the storyline and end up worrying about the pizza delivery guy getting fired from his job for taking too long.

    Joel snorted. Yeah, it figures you would say something like that.

    We drove along in silence for a little while. I’m an average-looking white guy, 27 years old, and have an athletic build. People tell me I look like Ron Howard from the TV show, Happy Days—except I wear glasses. At 32, Joel is a few years older and much taller than me and has a more muscular build, a thick head of brown hair, and a beard. His face resembled that of Jim Carey’s.

    I mean, don’t you ever get lonely being single? I asked.

    Not really. I have a bunch of cool friends.

    I nodded, but inside I didn’t totally agree with what Joel had said. He and I had different definitions of the word cool. Joel’s idea of cool friends for example were the ones who bought clothes from the Sears catalogue. In other words, most of them were like him: into Star Wars and owning Star Trek toys. I harbored the suspicion that Joel secretly liked to dress up in a homemade superhero costume and then do pretend sword fights with his friends using wooden sticks fashioned like swords. I’d seen a few of his 30ish friends and most were weird and single. Now being single might be okay for Joel, but me? I had grown tired of it.

    I wanted to have a meaningful relationship with a woman, not another crummy one-night stand. All my friends were getting married, and some were even having kids. Why haven’t you gotten married? they all wanted to know.

    I normally gave the same lame answer, I just haven’t found the right girl yet.

    Well, there are plenty of fish in the sea, they would often say.

    Yes, but while this cliché might ring true to some folks, I discovered it didn’t seem to apply to me—at all, in either fishing or dating.

    I was now 27 and desperately tired of the dating scene. I wanted to find someone I could share my innermost thoughts and feelings with. Someone I could relate to. Someone I could trust. Be best friends with. Maybe even one day, far down the road, start a family and have children with. I wanted to find my soulmate. What I didn’t want to do was go on any more dating interviews.

    Lately, every time I asked a

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