Monday, 29 May 2017
Just For the Holidays by Sue Moorcroft
Release Date: 18th May 2017
Publisher: Avon
Publisher: Avon
Genres: Contemporary Fiction / Romance
The number
one bestselling author returns with a glorious summer read – perfect for fans of Katie Fforde, Carole
Matthews and Trisha Ashley.
In theory, nothing could be better than a summer spent basking in the
French sun. But when you add in three teenagers, two love interests, one
divorcing couple, and a very
unexpected pregnancy, things don’t look so bright.
This isn’t exactly the relaxing holiday Leah Beaumont was hoping for –
but it’s the one she’s got. And with her sister Michele’s family falling apart
at the seams, it’s up to Leah to pick up the pieces and try to hold them all
together.
But with a handsome helicopter pilot staying next door, Leah can’t help
but think she might have a few distractions of her own to deal with…
Praise
for Sue Moorcroft:
‘I love all of Sue Moorcroft’s books.’
Katie
Fforde
‘Moorcroft has done her research on the topics
before penning the book, and that has paid off. From the intricacies of hat
making, to the ins-and-outs of a Marketing/PR agency, every detail has been
thought of and it’s these little intricacies that help to make the novel
special.’
The Herald (Scotland)
‘A magical must!’
Heat (5-stars)
EXTRACT
Unfortunately, the day’s kayaking on the River Ill in the forest
of Illwald achieved a poor rating on the fun scale. Natasha, though she
achieved her aim of sharing a boat with Leah, became tearful every time she was
splashed, Jordan called her Gnasher, or one of the ugly grey bugs that plagued
the river took a bite of her. As a result, she spent most of the day sporting
damp eyes. Every ten minutes she’d sigh, ‘I wish Mum was with us,’ which made
Jordan snap, ‘Shut up, Gnasher.’
Alister emerged from his thoughts long
enough to say, ‘Bit kinder, maybe, Jordan?’ and Jordan fell to silent scowling,
stabbing the khaki surface of the river with an angry paddle.
Leah drove home longing to hide away in
La Petite Annexe and treat herself to a huge glass of pinot gris. Instead, as
she shifted down a gear to encourage The Pig up the slope towards the gîte, she
cast around for something to improve the mood. ‘Do you kids want to make mug
cakes when we get back? Your mum’s preparing dinner but we could make dessert.’
‘Are mug cakes like cupcakes, only
bigger?’ Jordan’s expression lightened.
‘No, a mug cake’s made in a mug, in the
microwave.’
Natasha who’d managed to bag the front
passenger seat coming home, looked more cheerful, her nose red from the sun.
‘Chocolate mug cake?’
‘Of course. Nice and gooey. We can put some
cola in the mixture to make it moist.’
‘Any chance of
coffee in mine? Good and dark?’ Alister smiled at Leah via the rear-view
mirror. Smiling wasn’t something he’d done a lot of today and Leah grinned in
return. Alister was a nice man. He’d been her brother-in-law since she was
seventeen and it was painful to see him so sad, yet trying to cover it up.
‘Coffee, cola, nuts, orange, strawberries – everyone can choose.’
The atmosphere lightened as Jordan
suggested ‘Marshmallow and Haribo’ and Natasha countered with ‘Banana and lime.
And chocolate, obvs.’ Amazing what cake could do to lift the spirits.
When they pulled up in front of the
gîte, Leah spotted that the workman from earlier had moved his area of
endeavour to the front balcony of the house next door, while his
studs-and-chains young companion leaned on the rail, playing with his phone.
Both turned at the sound of the car. The workman flashed his grin, giving an
airy wave of his paintbrush before turning back to his work. The teenager just
looked.
‘Who’s that boy?’ hissed Natasha.
Jordan tugged her hair. ‘Someone too
cool for you.’
‘He’s not!’ Natasha responded in
indignation. ‘He’s just Goth. We’ve got loads of Goths at school. They’re not
allowed to wear their piercings in school but they put up with it because Goths
are big on tolerance.’
‘Being excluded if they don’t comply has
a lot to do with that kind of tolerance,’ Alister observed.
He and Leah began to clear The Pig of
the cans and bottles accumulated during the day. Jordan and Natasha dawdled off
down the path at the side of the house as if the mess was nothing to do with
them.
Overtaking the kids, Leah followed
Alister through the back door and into the kitchen. The room was cool and
quiet. She paused, listening, becoming aware of Alister listening in the same
way.
She glanced at her watch. Six thirty.
The kitchen looked exactly as it had when they’d left it this morning. No salad
washed, nothing cooking. She glanced out of the window. No barbecue alight.
‘What’s for
dinner?’ Natasha bumped through the door behind them. ‘Or can we start the
cakes straight away? I’m staaaaaaaaaaarving.’
‘Can I have crisps?’ demanded Jordan.
One glance at the apprehensive
expression that had settled over Alister’s face and Leah smoothly picked up the
slack. ‘Dinner before the cakes,’ she suggested brightly. ‘I’ll whip up a
risotto and we’ll have it with salad. There’s some of that fab bread left, too,
I think.’
‘I’ll find Mum.’ Natasha trotted off
through the hall.
Alister cleared his throat. ‘I thought
Michele said she’d cook?’
‘She’s probably having a nap.’ Leah
hoped. But, somehow, she didn’t think so – the house had had an empty air. She
slopped a little olive oil into a heavy pan, popped it onto the hob to heat,
took out two onions and topped, tailed and peeled them. With swift, machine-gun
movements, she passed them under her flashing blade, ch-ch-ch-ch-CHAH,
using the back of the knife to scrape the pieces from the chopping board into
the pan, stirring briskly, then turning to the fridge for bacon, mushrooms,
parmesan and cream.
Natasha bounded back into the room, eyes
wide. ‘I can’t find Mum!’
Somehow Leah
wasn’t shocked to hear it. She just tried to smile reassuringly as the
delicious smell of sizzling bacon filtered into the air. ‘She’s probably gone
for a walk.’ But she’d had all day. Why would Michele leave it until now,
when she’d promised to have dinner waiting?
ABOUT SUE MOORCROFT
Award-winning author Sue Moorcroft writes
contemporary women’s fiction with occasionally unexpected themes. She’s won a
Readers’ Best Romantic Read Award, and been nominated for others, including a
‘RoNA’ (Romantic Novel Award). Sue’s a Katie Fforde Bursary Award winner, and a
past vice chair of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, and editor of its two
anthologies. The daughter of two soldiers, Sue was born in Germany and went on
to spend much of her childhood in Malta and Cyprus. She lives in Kettering.
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