Release Date: 15th October 2015
Publisher: Maze
Publisher: Maze
Genres: Contemporary Fiction /Romance
**The new novel from ebook bestseller, Catherine Ferguson. A warm and cosy festive tale you won’t be able to put down.**
Lola Plumpton can’t believe her luck.
Christmas is coming and her gorgeous boyfriend, Nathan has offered up his swanky apartment to host the Plumpton family’s festive celebrations. It looks set to be a Christmas to remember. And it is – but for all the wrong reasons.
As the 25th December draws closer, Lola unexpectedly finds herself missing some key components:
1. A job (but who needs one of those anyway, when you’ve got the ultimate family Christmas to prepare for?)
2. Money (no job equals no money, it turns out.)
3. A boyfriend (yup, Nathan the hunk has said adios to Lola – and in the *most* embarrassing way possible…)
4. Somewhere to host her fabulous family Christmas (because of course, no Nathan means no des res apartment.)
Lola’s at a loss about what to do. But one way or another, she’s going to make this the happiest Christmas her family’s ever had…
Lola Plumpton can’t believe her luck.
Christmas is coming and her gorgeous boyfriend, Nathan has offered up his swanky apartment to host the Plumpton family’s festive celebrations. It looks set to be a Christmas to remember. And it is – but for all the wrong reasons.
As the 25th December draws closer, Lola unexpectedly finds herself missing some key components:
1. A job (but who needs one of those anyway, when you’ve got the ultimate family Christmas to prepare for?)
2. Money (no job equals no money, it turns out.)
3. A boyfriend (yup, Nathan the hunk has said adios to Lola – and in the *most* embarrassing way possible…)
4. Somewhere to host her fabulous family Christmas (because of course, no Nathan means no des res apartment.)
Lola’s at a loss about what to do. But one way or another, she’s going to make this the happiest Christmas her family’s ever had…
EXTRACT
He holds out his hand. ‘I’m
Seb. From upstairs.’
I slide my eyes to his face.
Seb From Upstairs has green
eyes and ruffled, tawny hair and, when I shake his hand, mine disappears
altogether, held in his firm, warm grasp.
Hang on.
Upstairs?
‘Have you moved into the flat,
then?’ I ask, wafting the top of my T-shirt. I’m feeling hot and a little
light-headed. Must be all that energetic singing.
‘I’m staying with my mate, Jas,
while I house-hunt.’ He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans. ‘I hope
I’m not – um – interrupting anything?’
‘No, not at all.’ I fold my
arms defensively. ‘I was just – er – watching TV. The X Factor,
actually.’
‘Really?’ He shakes his head.
‘Some of those auditions are appalling.’
‘Oh, God, terrible,’ I murmur.
‘Enough to shatter glass.’ He
looks at the hallway floor, his mouth curling suspiciously at one corner. ‘Or
vases?’
He cocks his head as if he’s
expecting me to explain.
I drop my eyes and glare at his
chest. It bears the words: My other T-shirt has a really funny slogan on it.
There’s something Popeye-esque about his muscular upper arms in those short
white sleeves.
Plus I happen to loathe
men in ‘funny slogan’ T-shirts.
‘And you are – Barbara?’ he
enquires.
‘Barb. It’s Barb, not
Barbara. I mean, no, I’m Lola,’ I mumble, confusing even myself. ‘Can I help
you?’
There’s something oddly
familiar about him, but I can’t quite get there.
Is he famous in films? A stunt
body double? The bloke who brings the pizza?
He dangles a key in the air.
‘It was in the door. I thought you should know.’
‘Oh, right, thanks.’ I must
have left it in the lock when I came back from the post box.
I grab the key but the stupid
thing slips from my grasp onto the doormat.
We both dive to pick it up and
clash heads.
‘Sorry.’ He grins ruefully,
giving me the benefit of two rows of white teeth, and rubs his forehead. ‘Are
you all right?’ he asks.
‘I’m fine.’
Then it hits me.
I flush instantly and
comprehensively, from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair.
I knew I recognised his deep
rumble. He’s asked me if I’m all right once before – on that excruciatingly
embarrassing day in the supermarket.
It’s Mr Newspaper Lurker.
The Hulk.
Oh, God.
Not only did he witness my
public dumping by Nathan, but I was very rude to him in my desperation to get
out of that supermarket.
He hands me my key. ‘You don’t
want to run the risk of a strange man finding it.’
I laugh politely, my face
glowing so brightly I’d probably be spotted from outer space. ‘Well, thanks
very much.’
He raises a hand and takes the
stairs three at a time.
I close the door and lean back
against it, feeling thoroughly unsettled.
Thank God he didn’t
recognise me …
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