Genre: Cosy mystery/romance
Release Date:18 September 2018
Publisher: Aria Fiction
The
perfect Christmas romance for fans of Karen Swan.
As the snowflakes start to fall, Holly Cove welcomes a new tenant to the
beautiful old cottage on the beach...
For lifestyle magazine journalist Tia Armstrong, relationships, as well
as Christmas, have lost all their magic. Yet Tia is up against a Christmas
deadline for her latest article 'Love is, actually, all around...'
So, Tia heads to Holly Cove where the restorative sea air and rugged
stranger, Nic, slowly but surely start mending her broken heart.
Tia didn't expect a white Christmas, and she certainly never dared dream
that all her Christmas wishes might just come true...
Set in Caswell Bay on the stunningly rugged Gower Coast, the cottage
nestles amid the limestone cliffs and the woodlands; the emotions run as
turbulently as the wind-swept sea.
As cosy as a marshmallow-topped cup of cocoa, fall in love with a
heart-warming festive story from the bestselling author of The French
Adventure.
EXCERPT
PROLOGUE
Mum and I link
arms, faces turned upwards towards the heavens. Our eyes scan the dense and
strangely opaque grey sky, as a flurry of large snowflakes rain down upon us.
Like a feather pillow which has burst its seams, we are bombarded by a cascade
of soft, white clusters of icy crystals. Having to constantly blink away the
fluffy white particles as they hit our eyelashes, we hug each other and begin
laughing, totally enthralled.
With cheeks
starting to glisten as the ice melts on contact, already the heavier flakes
begin to settle on our hair and thick winter coats. As carefree as children, we
survey the scene in awe. The street outside our boutique hotel is being turned
into a winter wonderland in front of our eyes.
The combination of
a heavily-laden sky and the soft carpet beneath our feet muffles every little
sound; even our footsteps no longer echo as we head off in search of the bright
lights. I know that this is a memory that will be etched on our minds forever,
as Mum squeezes my arm and turns to smile at me. I feel like Santa dispensing a
little Christmas magic, as what I see reflected in her eyes is a moment of
almost child-like happiness and joy. And to me that is priceless.
As we turn the
corner, ahead of us is a cacophony of sounds softened by the backdrop that is
almost a mini blizzard now – a snow globe brought to life. The traffic has
slowed, but horns still toot and sirens still screech; a city that never sleeps
cannot be stopped.
With last-minute
shoppers and people now eager to make their way home, the sidewalks are so busy
that the pitching snow is quickly trampled underfoot. Being swept along with
the crowd, as if we are New Yorkers and not merely visitors, it’s easy to soak
up the ambience.
Suddenly, a guy
wearing a Santa outfit appears in front of us ringing a small hand bell and
holding up a bucket, part-filled with coins. He’s an older man and his beard
and moustache appear to be real. I’m guessing the flowing white hair is a wig,
as it’s as white as the snowflakes that continue to fall. It looks like some of
that padding around the middle might not actually be padding, though. He’s even
wearing half-moon glasses, perched low on his nose. Everything about him
embodies the Santa images I remember from my childhood.
‘Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry
Christmas, ladies. Do you have a few coins to spare to make my bucket a little
fuller? Help the homeless at Christmas.’
Mum turns her head
to look at me, a bemused smile on her face. We immediately dive into our
handbags to pull out a handful of coins each, that clatter as we throw them
into the bucket.
‘Merry Christmas
and I hope it’s a truly wonderful one for you both.’
‘Thank you, Santa,
and good luck filling that bucket.’
His eyes crinkle up
when he smiles back at us and for some reason he reaches out to place his
gloved hand on Mum’s shoulder.
‘The season’s
blessings upon you, my dear. Enjoy this special holiday.’
With that he moves
on past us, leaving Mum and me to stare after him as he continues to greet
people and accept donations. Even when Mum and I link arms and begin moving
forward again, the tinkling sound of that little bell seems to float on the
air.
‘It’s like another
world,’ Mum exclaims, totally captivated and more than a little overwhelmed by
the skyline that towers above us.
‘So good, they
named it twice – the city and the state!’
Ahead of us a
Starbucks offers a chance to warm ourselves up a little and we hurry inside.
There’s a table for two in the window and I settle Mum down before I head off
to order our coffees.
In the background
the sounds of Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree add to the lively and festive
atmosphere. Most of the people who are seated have a pile of carrier bags
stuffed beneath their seats and there’s a real buzz in the air as the holiday
season is about to begin.
‘Eggnog Latte or
Chestnut Praline Latte?’
Mum looks up at me,
raising her eyebrows and giving a shrug of her shoulders. ‘Surprise me!’
‘Eggnog Latte,
then. Why not?’
When it’s cool
enough for her to take that first sip, a little smile creeps over her face.
‘This reminds me of
my father. He always made eggnog at Christmas. It was his only contribution, as
my mother even carved the turkey.’ She laughs to herself, transported back to a
special moment goodness knows how many years ago.
‘I’m not even sure
how it’s made,’ I admit. I’m pretty sure it’s a drink I’ve never tried.
‘The secret is in
the nutmeg, he always said. It’s milk, cream, a little cinnamon and vanilla
mixed with eggs, sugar and bourbon. It was a luxury in those days. Even the
smell of it conjures up Christmas, to me.’
It’s wonderful to
sit here and hear her talking about Christmases from her own childhood. ‘This
is truly magical, Tia, thank you so very much. My wonderful, darling daughter,
what would I do without you in my life? Spending time with you is gift enough,
so today I’m doubly blessed.’
I vowed then, that
in future we’ll celebrate every Christmas Eve in style at a very special
destination. I can’t think of a better way to repay her for all those wonderful
Christmas memories from my childhood. Losing my father, and then a family row
distancing my brother from us, has blighted far too many Christmases already.
Our first trip had
to be New York; home of the iconic yellow taxi cab, Central Park and the Statue
of Liberty. And, of course, the setting for one of the greatest Christmas
movies of all time: Miracle on 34th Street. But who knows where we’ll be this
time next year? My only wish is that the snowflakes will begin to fall, as
that’s the little bit of magic that makes Christmas special, no matter what age
you are.
BUY LINK
ABOUT LUCY COLEMAN
From
interior designer to author, Linn B. Halton - who also writes under the pen
name of Lucy Coleman - says ‘it’s been a fantastic journey!’
Linn
is the bestselling author of more than a dozen novels and is excited to be
writing for both Aria Fiction (Head of Zeus) and Harper Impulse (Harper
Collins); she’s represented by Sara Keane of the Keane Kataria Literary Agency.
When
she’s not writing, or spending time with the family, she’s either upcycling
furniture or working in the garden.
Linn
won the 2013 UK Festival of Romance: Innovation in Romantic Fiction award; her
novels have been short-listed in the UK's Festival of Romance and the eFestival
of Words Book Awards.
Living
in Coed Duon in the Welsh Valleys with her ‘rock’, Lawrence, and gorgeous
Bengal cat Ziggy, she freely admits she’s an eternal romantic.
Linn
is a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association and writes feel-good,
uplifting novels about life, love and relationships.
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/LucyColemanAuth
Website: http://linnbhalton.co.uk/
COMPETITON!
A
Christmas Book-reading Bag (a signed copy of A Cottage in the Country + treats)
– UK ONLY
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