Molly Hacker Is Too Picky!
Lisette Brodey

At thirty-two, newspaper reporter Molly Hacker vows to never attend another wedding until she has had her own — and younger sister, Hannah, is going to be married in one year. Armed with snark, wit, and fabulous good looks, “Picky Molly” embarks on a quest to find Mr. Right. Things get complicated fast. Molly has four “men of interest” and the memories of a lost love to send her overanalytic, befuddled mind into serious overdrive, and she’s determined not to let her “helpful” girlfriends help her right out of another relationship. Her BFF male coworker, Randy, her closest confidant, stumbles over romantic issues with his new Mr. Right, Kyle. Tweaking Molly’s last nerve is the town’s most visible socialite, Naomi Hall-Benchley. Naomi is hell-bent on setting up “Picky Molly Hacker,” and she doesn’t care who she has to manipulate or hurt to do it. Just how far will she go? Molly’s dating life, town secrets, a group of quirky, crazy characters, and Naomi’s machinations collide head-on at a holiday gala that will change the social landscape of Swansea forever. As the New Year rolls in, Molly gets earth-shattering news. Can she go on? Will life ever return to abnormal again?

ISBN ebook: 978-0-9815836-4-8
FICTION | Contemporary Women
Word Count: 116,600
List Price: $4.99
Published: December 1, 2011 with Saberlee Books


"I loved this book. I tried to think of another way to start this review, but that is the overwhelming thing that comes to mind. Reading Molly Hacker Is Too Picky! is like getting together with an old friend you haven’t seen for a while and catching up on all that has happened in her life during the past year. Brodey does a fantastic job with the characters, even down to Molly’s cat, Captain Jack. I expected no less because last year I read, Squalor New Mexico, and thoroughly enjoyed Brodey’s character development in that book." LK Gardner-Griffie - Author Misfit McCabe series


Three weddings ago, when my best girlfriend, Claudia Porter-Bellman, got married, I swore it would be the last one I would ever attend until I was the bride. Claudia Porter-Bellman — and people tell me I’ve got baggage.

I didn’t, however, count on my mother’s long-divorced best friend, Susan Decker, getting married again. Having tried every trick in and out of vogue to find a husband, Susan was ripe for success. But despite the odds being on her side, I figured Murphy’s law would sabotage her efforts.

Cynical? Nah. It wasn’t just Murphy or the fact that his law had wreaked so much havoc in my own life. It was simply that Susan just seemed too desperate, as opposed to my own state of being: nonchalantly desperate.

Back to Susan. One night, an insistent neighbor dragged her to a local community center for a fun night of number calling, and bingo, six months later, she was engaged to a widower of two years.

He was a nice enough man, quite handsome, and seemed to truly care about her happiness. Luckily for me, Susan’s good fortune veered far enough away from my own romantic hallucinations that I was able to attend the wedding without insane pangs of envy stabbing my chest like daggers.

I’ll admit it: watching Susan and her new husband take their vows did fill me with a bit of “why the hell isn’t that me up there?” but having to deal with the busybodies at the country club reception proved to be the real pebble in my Jimmy Choos. Although I had been wise enough to bring Tony Lostanza, my dear friend from high school who was estranged from his wife, my mom had already told a few friends (translation: it was broadcast to the world) that Tony was just an escort of sorts. As if that weren’t bad enough, the ones who didn’t know, but who knew Tony, were horrified that I was attending a wedding, of all occasions, with a married man.

That night, I was forced to fend off several not-so-subtle dirty looks, glances of pity accompanied by sad head shaking, and, once again, comments from those near and dear who felt compelled to remind me that if I weren’t so darn picky, if I would just give a nice man a chance, I wouldn’t have to bring another woman’s husband to my mother’s best friend’s wedding.

Also by Lisette Brodey

Crooked Moon | Squalor, New Mexico