Debbie Fritter has written a winner. THE PERFECT MATCH is filled with just the right combination of wit, charm, and tormented romance. Her characters shared something wonderful that came through with each new word, and caused many a smile to cross my lips while raising my hopes about their future. The humor and sincerity that Ms. Fritter wrote into her story will definitely grab you and hold you for the three count. The sexual tension that was created between Khristen and Shadoe is nothing short of brilliant. Will they, won’t they? My recommendation is that you find out for yourself. You’ll be very glad you did. By Romance Junkies Reviewer Patti Blue Ribbon Rating: 4.5

Sample Chapter For THE PERFECT MATCH by Debbie Fritter

Prologue

“Your position here at Plain Talk is secure.”

Shadoe Donovan stood in front of the large office window overlooking the bay of Lake Monona. His six foot, two inch muscular frame cast a shadow over the thirty-something man sitting in disbelief behind an oak desk.

“When did all this happen?” The voice came from some-where close behind him.

“Officially, last night the deal was signed.” Although it was a relatively calm day on the lake, Shadoe knew things could get stormy in this office at any moment. Hell, if some-one walked in off the streets and bought the company he worked for, he’d want to know exactly where he stood.

“Why this magazine?”

“It’s small, virtually unknown...exactly what I was look-ing for.” Watching the local ski team practice their routine to perfection, Shadoe felt their aches and pains in getting each move precise.

“For what? A tax write-off after you’ve driven it into the ground?” the voice came again, this time edged with sarcasm and irritation.

“Look here, Scott...”

“My name is Ric, damn it!”

“All I’m looking for is someone to write a story.” Shadoe turned from the window as one of the skiers completed a jump.

“I want a fresh, unbiased, unknown for this. Someone with the drive, and desire to tell the truth as they see it; who’s not afraid of a little bit of controversy.”

“Controversy?” Ric Scott turned away from the files he’d been asked to get. “Just what the hell is this story about any-way?”

Shadoe observed the man who was now under his em-ploy. Ric Scott was going to be just the person he needed to keep things under control while he was away on other busi-ness. Not a tall man, five foot eight and stocky, he was dy-namic in what he did for a living. So far, everything he’d heard about the editor-in-chief was right on the money.

“Pro-wrestling.” A smile on his face, Shadoe watched closely for the normal reaction to the game he loved so much. A game many people considered a circus of highly paid per-formers.

“Are you nuts? Controversy is right.” Tossing down a pencil, Ric pushed away from his desk.

“I’ll be damned if I’ll let you bring this magazine down with that kind of cover-up story,” he continued. “We write the truth, not some sugar coated soap!”

“Take it easy, Scott.” Shadoe walked to the front of the desk. “I’m not about to change the format. I just want a writer to do the exposé is all.”

Standing over the desk, Shadoe knew under usual circum-stances his size and attitude could be intimidating, but this wasn’t the case here. Ric Scott wasn’t about to back down from him and he liked that factor very much.

“I have a plane to catch and don’t have time to pull rank with you. Let’s see who’s on staff and go from there.” Shadoe pulled up one of the large winged-back leather chairs.

Shadoe listened to Ric as he read each staff member’s cre-dentials. Sitting back in the chair, Shadoe knew halfway through the files that not one of the staff would fit what he was looking for.

“Look, Scott,” he began, sitting forward, “everyone so far has experience. If the rest of them do to, I can’t use them for this assignment.”

“Alright, Donovan, just why do you want a virtual un-known?” Scott sighed deeply. “Unless you’re ready for a law suit, which by the way would destroy the magazine, an ex-perienced journalist would be best.”

“As for the legal and financial condition of this magazine it’s of no concern to you.” Shadoe liked the directness and ag-gression of Scott. The fact that this man was so protective of the magazine and its staff was a welcomed relief.

“This company can handle anything thrown at it from now on. As for the why, it’s time for the fans to know how hard pro-wrestlers train everyday of the year. How difficult it is on their families when they’re on the road ninety percent of the time,” he continued, walking back over to the window, gazing at the lake and the lone boater drifting out on the water. He felt much of his life was like that boat, just going with the flow, never really coming to rest for a long time.

“Besides, I’m the boss and I said so.” Returning to the desk, he once again stood over Scott with natural authority and intimidation. “Because it’s the sport that’s enabled me to follow the career I love and cherish more than any thing or any one. I owe it to the wrestlers who have been disabled for life or even given their life in the ring for the love of the game.”

Shadoe watched the reasoning register deep in Scott’s mind as he let him think. The cockiness diminished slightly with each passing moment until at last Scott sighed deeply in a small surrender.

“Okay, I get the picture. I may just have the person you’re looking for.” Scott ran his hands through his short dark hair, hesitation flashing through his face.

“Great! Who is he?” Shadoe glanced at his watch. His plane was due to leave in less than forty-five minutes. If things didn’t progress right now, he’d miss his flight to Hawaii.

“It’s not a he,” Scott smiled, “but a she. There’s no real formal training or experience. Just the drive and desire to write. Her name’s Khristen Roberts, but she’s on her way for a long deserved vacation.”

“Perfect. Put her on the assignment as soon as you can reach her.” Shadoe moved toward the door. “I’ve got a plane to try and catch. I’ll be in touch with the details soon.”

“What’s your connection, Donovan?”

Shadoe turned just as he reached for the door. Pausing, he looked Ric Scott straight in the eye, deciding quickly to tell him just how connected he was.

“Ever hear of ‘The Flame’?”