My first Blaze is on the stands! Whoo hoo! I was looking forward to its release because the number one question I’m asked is, “Where do you get your ideas?” and this time, I’ve got an easy answer. Naturally, no one has asked me that about this book. But the month is young.

UNDRESSED is four stories about couples who overhear conversations in the dressing rooms sharing a wall between a bridal salon and a tux rental shop. The idea for the book came from shopping for a wedding dress with my sister, who got married last year. You would not believe some of the conversations we overheard in the fitting rooms. At one point, I wondered what would happen if the grooms could hear their brides and future mothers-in-law talking . . . and a book was born.

I made up the conversations in the book. The real ones were too unbelievable. A lot of what happens in real life is too unbelievable to use in a book.

For example, at my sister’s wedding last May, I, as matron of honor, am standing next to her, listening as the minister preaches about marriage before the nitty gritty of exchanging vows and rings.

Now, what’s the classic cliché here? The missing ring, of course.

Yes. A horrible, awful, terrible feeling goes through me as I realize that I don’t have the ring. It’s on the table in the bride’s dressing room.

As I am thinking of how I can sneak off the dais and retrieve the ring without anyone noticing, I am also thinking that I could never use this in a book because it’s such a cliché. I turn to the other bridesmaid and mouth, “I don’t have the ring.”

She smiles and mouths back, “I have the ring.”

I go limp with relief. She discreetly hands it to me and I stick it on my thumb. Moments later, I hear, “May I have the rings?” And that’s when I go for cliché number two–the stuck wedding ring.

I’d been working with the flowers and my hands–and thumb–were sticky from florist’s tape. Since by now I was holding the bride’s bouquet as well as mine, I tried to slide the ring off my thumb with the fingers of the same hand. There was no sliding. The ceremony pauses as the minister waits for me to give him the ring. My sister thinks I’m joking. Finally, I pass off a bouquet and use my other hand to remove the ring because I’m afraid it’ll suddenly become unstuck and go shooting across the dais.

You’d never believe that in a book. I didn’t believe it as it was happening. But I can use the idea, if I make up something more convincing and less like real life.

It’s June! What are your wedding stories?