Book

Memoirs of the Money Lady is available directly from the author. Contact her at eviepreston.com/. Group purchase discounts are available.

The book makes a great gift for anyone interested in making and saving money—and that’s almost everyone from teens to seniors. Male readers have responded as favorably as women and bought the book to pass along to spouses and friends. Both men and women have identified with many of the author’s off-beat experiences. “Expect the unexpected is an apt caption for today’s business world,” the author says throughout the book, “where anything can happen—and does.”

MEMOIRS OF THE MONEY LADY (Sample)

The short version of how I, a former French and English teacher, soccer mom and money dummy wound up in the financial field is—a man—a charming investment broker who lost most of my money and then enticed me into the business to try to recoup my losses—proof of the old adage that there can often be more money in giving financial advice than in taking it.

Losing a family legacy under the guise of financial planning motivated my initial move from the bush leagues of secondary education to the major leagues of investment sales. The broker who led me up this dangerous slope was Jay Goodsel, Mr. Enthusiasm and Charm, who rarely met a deal he didn’t like. Although Jay had mainly entertained me while he turned my money into his commissions, his subsequent push for my on-going services created such an unexpected detour that I completely bypassed any mid-life crisis.

Dealing with other people’s finances, however, was not a career I would have chosen had I known anything at all about money. Worse, I made a ridiculous amount of the stuff until I finally began to understand what I was doing. It was pretty much all downhill from there. I’d sailed smoothly onto the inviting seas of investment sales and then almost sank out of sight in the undertow of sad experience.

Jay and I first met after I received a sizeable chunk of family assets and a brief note from my mother to “Never forget, Darling, there can always come a rainy day!” Under the illusion of independence from a long-term substitute teaching job, I suddenly realized that all I knew about money was how to spend it. I rarely paid my own way, barely saved a penny of my pay and had as much an idea of how to build a financial edifice as how to erect a Gothic cathedral although I knew that both needed to last a very long time.

My husband of twenty-five years, like most men of our era, mowed the lawn and paid the mortgage while I raised the kids and ran up bills. Fortunately, my spouse succumbed to the old lopsided theory that “what’s his is mine—and what’s mine is mine.” All he asked was my promise to take complete charge of the “what’s mine” portion.

Where to begin? I needed a plan, a foundation, professional help. I was vaguely aware of stockbrokers and financial advisors even though I wasn’t exactly sure what they did or how they did it. As a modern woman, however, I decided, there was no reason I couldn’t be responsible for my own financial fate. With my substantial nest egg waiting to be parlayed into future riches, I began to search for my personal notion of “financial aid”.
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