Book After Book

I would like to start by thanking Orion for providing me with a copy of this thrilling and unpredictable novel.

THE CRAFTSMAN opens in 1999, in Sabden, in Lancashire, where Assistant Commissioner Florence Lovelady attends the funeral of Larry Glassbrook, a man accused of the murders of three teenagers thirty years before. Over the years she made regular visits to Larry while he was in prison and now she is there to close one of the most terrible cases of her life. But during her brief stay there she finds a clay effigy of herself, similar to the voodoo dolls left with Larry’s victims.

Then the novel goes back to 1969, when Flossie had just joined the Lancashire Police. Three teenagers had disappeared in the last weeks and while her colleagues think that it’s a case of runaway teenagers, Flossie is convinced that it’s more complicated than that and she challenges her colleagues to prove that she is right.

THE CRAFTSMAN is very creepy and very captivating. There is never a dull moment and the tension is always high. I loved the elements of folklore and witchcraft that fit perfectly with the gloomy setting and the grim and scary plot.

I found Flossie a very intriguing character. She is hard-working and very smart. She is good at her job and I loved how she stood up to her sexist and prejudiced colleagues who just want her to make tea or clean the bathrooms just because she is a woman.

Full of mystery, legends, and twists that will chill you to the bone, THE CRAFTSMAN is one of these sublime books that keep you up at night. It’s out this week and I highly recommend you go and buy it.

 

What is French for falling in love?

When Del leaves small town America to compete in a perfume competition in Paris, she thinks it is just the next step on her five-year-plan. It’s an exciting opportunity. What started out as just a dream for Del and her twin sister is nearly in her grasp. If she wins this competition, they are on their way to opening their very own perfume boutique!

Arriving in Paris, watching the sun glinting off the Seine and wandering the Champs-Elysees, Del discovers the most perfect perfumery she’s ever seen. Yet, as the competition dawns Del realises that whilst she might have had the best nose in her small village, her competitors seem to know more than she could ever have dreamed. This competition isn’t going to be easy…

Del has the romance of Paris to sweep her away from her worries, but as the competition heats up, so does her desire for that which she cannot have! If only the dashing owner Sébastien didn’t smell so seductive, look so handsome and make her heart flutter like it never has before. They say love smells as sweet as a red rose in bloom, but Del would tell anyone that true love can’t be bottled – it’s beautiful and unique to everyone…even herself. With everything on the line for her future, can Del really let a little attraction get in the way of securing her dreams?

 

 

I found the story enjoyable and romantic. I read it in less than a day, not only because it’s not too long (a little more than 200 pages), but because I was engrossed in the plot. What I liked most about this novel is the character of Del. The author presents her through many fronts. She is devoted to her family, she is still grieving over her grandmother’s death and she constantly misses her twin sister Jen, her other half, especially since she is now busy with her boyfriend. She is competitive and determined to win her place in the competition but she is also a loyal and true friend and she helps the other competitors even if it means she could lose. She is also funny and gets herself in ridiculous and embarrassing situations that made me laugh out loud. And she’s never been in love, at least not until she arrives to Paris.

Small town girl meets big city boy. She grew up in a farm in Michigan, raised by her grandparents while her hippy parents healed the world with their prayers. He is the heir of an empire. While she dreams of the bright lights of the big city, he wishes for the quietness of the countryside. Del and Sébastien couldn’t be more different, and yet they hit it off right away, and I enjoyed seeing their story develop throughout the novel. The fact that the novel is set in the most romantic city in the world helped to create the romantic and atmospheric setting for Del and Seb’s love story.

The setting of Paris is another thing that I enjoyed in this novel. I loved to explore Paris along with Del as she visits the city with its iconic landmarks – from the Moulin Rouge to Notre Dame and more – and its beautiful shops and cafés.

THE LITTLE PERFUME SHOP OFF THE CHAMPS-ELYSEES is an highly enjoyable and charming novel and I’d like to thank HQ Digital for providing me with an early copy of the book and for letting me take part in the blog tour.

 

REBECCA RAISIN is a true bibliophile. This love of books morphed into the desire to write them. Rebecca aims to write characters you can see yourself being friends with. People with big hearts who care about relationships, and most importantly, believe in true, once in a lifetime love.

 

What attracted me first to this book was the blurb. Described as “Making a Murderer meets Scandal” (and I really love Scandal) and as the story about two people from completely different backgrounds with hints of suspense and romance, I couldn’t wait to put my hands on it.

The protagonists of the novel are Noah Marshall and Gracie Richards. I loved his Southern politeness (calling everyone ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’) and her stubbornness and independence. Noah and Gracie grew up together in Austin. His mother and her father were police officers, partners, and best friends. But when Noah was 11 years old and Gracie was 6, her father died during what seemed a drug deal gone wrong and he was accused of being corrupted. So her mother packed their things and moved them to live in Arizona in a trailer park, while Noah’s mother climbed up her way through the Austin Police Department to become Chief.

Fourteen years later, after tragedy strikes, Noah and Gracie meet again to find answers to the mystery surrounding their parents and to find out the truth about what really happened to Gracie’s father.

I loved the main characters, the evolving relationship between Noah and Gracie and their witty exchanges. I liked that Noah was good and honest and that Gracie was determined and strong and how they hit it off right away.

I liked how the author confronts themes of racial injustice, corruption, and different backgrounds. You are aware of the presence of these themes in the story but they don’t weigh too much on the plot. KEEP HER SAFE is a romantic suspense novel with the right amount of romance and the right amount of police story. The mystery seems easy to solve but I found a few twists that took me by surprise.

Alternating between the past and the present and between characters, KEEP HER SAFE is carefully plotted and beautifully written. It is one of these books that I couldn’t put down and I couldn’t wait to go back to read and it is out now.

“It takes three men to pull the body from the water”

That’s how TANGERINE, the gripping and disturbing novel by Christine Mangan, starts. We are in Tangier, Morocco, in the 1950s. Alice Shipley has moved from England with her husband John. But Alice hasn’t adjusted to life in Morocco and she finds Tangier, its hot weather, and its people suffocating so she spends most of her time indoors, while her husband is out having fun on his own using the money from her trust fund. The other protagonist of the story is Lucy Mason. She was Alice’s roommates when they both went to Bennington, in Vermont. They were best friends, almost sisters, until the accident happened (I am not giving away what the accident was but it is hinted at often and then fully revealed). Lucy arrives in Tangier looking for Alice, to restart their friendship, but Alice is distant and you can’t say she welcomes her with open arms.

The story is told by both Alice and Lucy’s points of view and it is fascinating to see them through each other’s eyes. Through a few flashbacks, we have a few details of their relationship in college, we see how Lucy and Alice first met, how Lucy saw Alice as a sophisticated wealthy girl, while, for Alice, Lucy was the carefree and mature friend.

It was infuriating watching Alice and Lucy’s relationship as one takes advantage of the other and seeing their disturbing friendship evolve. Alice is anxious, isolated, and too dependent on other people. Lucy, instead, is manipulative and resourceful and she is ready to do anything to get what she wants.

The exotic setting is very enchanting and atmospheric. In the background, there are the riots for the independence of the country from France and the city of Tangier is a character in itself of the novel with its markets, its clubs, its loud and busy streets that make Alice anxious and Lucy thrive.

I would like to thank Hayley Camis and Little, Brown for giving me the chance to read TANGERINE, I was completely engrossed from the first to the last page. Full of suspense and with a brilliant ending to close Alice and Lucy’ story, it is an addictive and superb novel about toxic relationships, obsession, and mental health and it’s out now.

Although I am a big fan of Agatha Christie and her novels, I don’t know much about her personal life and this novel gave me the chance to find out more about her so I’d like to thank Jess Barratt and Simon & Schuster for providing me with a copy of the book.

In December 1926, the Queen of Crime Agatha Christie was going through a lot both personally and professionally. On the personal side, she misses her mother who died two years earlier and she doesn’t accept that her husband is leaving her for another woman. On the professional side, the success of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd has created expectations from her readers and she is struggling to finish her new novel, The Mystery of the Blue Train. She suddenly disappears and, even though the entire country is looking for her, she turns up in a hotel only ten days later. She doesn’t remember what happened and the mystery was never solved, but Andrew Wilson creates a fantastic fictional story of what happened during these ten days in A TALENT FOR MURDER.

The novel starts with Agatha Christie at a train station in London. She is first attacked, then saved, and then blackmailed by the same man, a Dr Kurs who wants her to commit the perfect murder. Fearing not only for her life, but also for the lives of the people she loves, Agatha Christie has no choice but to disappears for ten days and do everything that this man asks her.

In my mind, Agatha Christie is the genius behind the creation of Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple and other amazing and twisty stories, but here Andrew Wilson portrayed her as a mother who loves deeply her daughter and would do anything to protect her; as a wife in love with her husband who hopes he won’t leave her; as a daughter still grieving over her mother’s death; as a bestselling author who feels the pressure of the readers; and, finally, as a woman who underestimates herself, her character, and her look. Andrew Wilson depicts her as a smart woman with a great mind, but by portraying her fears, her hopes and her insecurities, he makes her more human.

The novel doesn’t focus only on Agatha Christie, but also on other characters that play a role in the story. Dr Kurs is portrayed as a diabolic and dark man, like a villain out of one of Agatha Christie’s mysteries. Then there is Superintendent William Kenward, the detective in charge of the investigation of Agatha Christie’s disappearance. He thinks that she is dead and that her husband has something to do with it and he wants to prove it. Although he seemed like a good man, I found him a little too pretentious and self-assured. And finally, my favorite character, Una Crowe. She is a young girl, turned journalist, who is investigating the author’s disappearance. I like her because she is determined, she wants to prove to the world that she is not just a rich girl with no ambition in her life, but she has brain and she knows how to use it.

Beautifully written and carefully plotted, A TALENT FOR MURDER is a gripping and captivating novel and it is out now, so I suggest you go out and buy it.

‘Will you… pretend to marry me?’

Bonnie Haskett loves everything about weddings. She loves her job at a national bridal magazine and even has a deposit down on her dream dress. The only problem? She doesn’t have a fiancé!

So when Bonnie is sent to Edelweiss Island, known as ‘The Little Wedding Island’, it’s a dream come true. She’s heard the rumours, every wedding that takes place in the tiny chapel ends in a happy-ever-after.

But there’s a catch! Investigating the story, Bonnie needs to pose as a blushing bride – and the only man up for posing as her groom is her arch rival (and far too handsome for his own good) journalist Rohan Carter…

A gorgeously uplifting summer romance. Perfect for fans of Holly Martin and Caroline Roberts.

 

I really loved and enjoyed this novel and I’d like to thank HQ Digital for providing me with a copy of the book.

The protagonist of the novel is Bonnie Haskett, a journalist writing for a bridal magazine. She doesn’t just write about weddings, she really loves them. She believes in love and happy endings and, even though she doesn’t have a boyfriend, she has already found her perfect wedding dress and she has it on hold while she pays for it little by little every month. The Twitter war with Rohan started when she defended a newly married couple that Rohan had criticized and attacked. Her belief in true love and happy ever after make her look a bit naive, but I couldn’t help liking her optimistic nature and view of life.

Bonnie and Rohan couldn’t be more different. Where she is positive and an hopeless romantic, Rohan is pessimistic, sarcastic and he had a very bad experience with love in the past. But he is also charming, kind, and funny and I loved his witty exchanges with Bonnie. When the islanders refuse to help them with their articles, Bonnie and Rohan pretend to be engaged and to organize their wedding on Edelweiss Island. With moments that reminded me of one of my favorite movie, The Proposal (with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds), Bonnie and Rohan find themselves sharing the honeymoon suite, holding hands, kissing, and pretending to be in love. Although, maybe they are not really pretending.

Hilarious, sharp, and captivating, THE LITTLE WEDDING ISLAND will make you laugh out loud and you won’t help but love its engaging characters and its improbable but refreshing and intriguing plot.

THE LITTLE WEDDING ISLAND is out now in the UK.

 

JAIMIE ADMANS Jaimie Admans is a 32-year-old English-sounding Welsh girl with an awkward-to-spell name. She lives in South Wales and enjoys writing, gardening, watching horror movies and drinking tea, although she’s seriously considering marrying her coffee machine. She loves autumn and winter, and singing songs from musicals despite the fact she’s got the voice of a dying hyena. She hates spiders, hot weather and cheese & onion crisps. She spends far too much time on Twitter and owns too many pairs of boots. She will never have time to read all the books she wants to read.

 

In the past year, I have been discovering and reading more and more Nordic noir authors, but this is my first Icelandic novel. I find Nordic noir different from the thrillers I am used to, for the plot, the atmosphere, the writing (compelling, but I think that some descriptions are too graphic and gruesome) and the names that I can’t pronounce. I was drawn to this author because I have been hearing a lot about him from other bloggers and I was really curious to see for myself and I have to say that I am sorry I haven’t read his novels before.

The protagonist of his latest novel is Detective Hulda Hermannsdottir. She is sixty-five years old and, even though she is a good detective and she is respected by her colleagues, she is forced into early retirement to make room for the youngest generation. Throughout the entire novel, the author explores in details Hulda’s feelings towards her retirement which she finds hard to accept as she can’t envisage a future in which she doesn’t work. She is been allowed, as her last job, to work on a cold case of her choice, so she decides to investigate the death of Elena, a 27-year-old refugee from Russia whose body was found in a cave. The detective who had investigated the death ruled it out as a suicide, but Hulda is convinced that there is something more to it.

I found the character of Hulda flawed, but very intriguing. She is strong and determined. When she puts her head into something she goes through it even if she has to compete not only with a younger generation who thinks she is now past her time, but also with her male colleagues who don’t think she is as smart as them. I liked how she fights for the weakest, not necessarily victims, even if it often leads her to trouble. And she has a painful and dark past that it slowly unravels through the novel, and it’s her past that made me want to read and found out more about this character.

The pace of the novel is not too fast, not too slow, the good amount to keep the suspense high and to keep you glued to the page. I really loved the evocative and atmospheric descriptions of the Icelandic landscape, with its white snow and frozen lakes that make you dream of hot chocolate and fireside (which, by the way, I think it’s the best way to read this book!)

The ending was a complete surprise, not at all what I expected. Without giving any spoilers away, it’s not the ending I wished for, but I think it fitted perfectly with the story and with the character of Hulda.

Thank you Michael Joseph for providing me with an earlier copy of the book.

THE DARKNESS is out now in the UK.

 

This novel is creepy, dark and atmospheric and I really loved it. It is the first novel featuring Meg Dalton, the new DI in the Derbyshire Police. She has a troubled past that slowly unravels through the novel. She has also unresolved issues and she is broken by the guilt that she feels over her sister.

The novel starts with a great opening. A man slowly dying in a cave. The man’s name is Peter Hamilton and he is a patent lawyer. The cave his body was found in is called by the locals The Devil’s Dice and the legend say that people go there to kill themselves. What at first looked like a suicide, it quickly turns into murder as Meg finds out that Peter Hamilton had many secrets. And even all the people around him seem to be hiding something, from his wife to his siblings, from his colleagues to their wives.

While Meg investigates she has other things to deal with: someone seems to be after her and there is a male colleague who constantly throws cutting remarks at her because she is a woman. On the personal side, she is worried about her mother who lately seems forgetful and she is clearly hiding something.

I liked the character of Meg, she is flawed, troubled and complicated, but she is a good detective and good daughter. The other characters are (mostly) likable and engaging, but what I liked most was Meg’s relationship with her colleague Jai and their funny and witty exchanges.

The author adds a mystical touch to the plot with the elements of the cursed house, the Greek mythology, the legend of the Devil’s Dice, and the witchcraft. The setting of Derbyshire and Peak District is dark and atmospheric and it suits perfectly to the story.

THE DEVIL’S DICE is the first novel in a series and I really look forward to reading more about these characters and from this author.

Thank you HQ for providing me with an early copy of the book.

THE DEVIL’S DICE was published in the UK on March 8^th.

Set mostly in Italy, in a small village on the hills just outside of Rome, THE DARK ANGEL is the tenth novel featuring Dr Ruth Galloway. Although I have still a few books to read in this series, I really enjoy it and this last book really kept me glued to the page. For once, I was thankful for my long commute to work because it gave me time to read and I went through this novel in two days.

Ruth Galloway needs a break from watching Harry Nelson, the father of her child and the married man she is love with, spending time with his pregnant wife, so when an Italian archaeologist, Angelo Morelli, asks her to go to Italy to look at a mysterious group of bones, Ruth happily accepts. She decides to turn it into a holiday and she brings her 6-year-old daughter, Kate, her best friend Shona and her son Louis. But, first someone leaves a warning on their door, and then there are other strange events that make Ruth suspect that not everyone in the small Italian village is happy about their arrival.

In the meantime, Harry Nelson has a lot going on in Norfolk. Although he looks happy about his wife’s pregnancy, it also means that his dream of forming a family with Ruth and Kate is over. Additionally, Mickey Webb, a man who threatened him after he put him in prison ten years earlier, is now out and, despite his claims of redemption, Nelson is not completely convinced.

What I like about the characters of this series is that their insecurities and their flaws make them more human and more likable. My favourite character is Cathcart who I find engaging and funny with his predictions and declarations. Ruth is a kick-ass forensic archaeologist, smart and determined, and she is one of my favourite female characters. I love reading about her relationship with Nelson. It is complicated, now more than ever: they love each other and have a daughter together who Nelson can’t recognize, and now his wife is pregnant. But is Nelson the father of the child? Sometimes, reading about their story it’s like watching a soap opera.

If the romantic side of the novel doesn’t have your attention, then you will love the atmospheric Italian setting with its rural villages, the good food and wine, and the culture and the history. Then, there is the suspenseful plot and the captivating writing, so in two words, a fantastic read.

Thank you Olivia Mead and Quercus for providing me with an early copy of the book.

THE DARK ANGEL was published in the UK on February 8^th.

 

Love happens when you least expect it…

Emily Atkinson stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago! She’s fed up of dating frogs in order to track down her very own Prince Charming, despite the best efforts of her matchmaking best friend…

But now she’s been invited to the wedding of the year at the enchanting Durban Castle, and perhaps bumping into a knight in shining armour isn’t as far away as she thought!

Will Emily survive the wedding and walk away an unscathed singleton – or finally find her own happily-ever-after?

A cosy and charming romance, perfect for fans of Trisha Ashley and Caroline Roberts.

 

Chapter One

I’m going to have to dump him, which is a shame as he’s a good-looking guy (not that looks should matter, but there’s no denying the bloke is pretty damn hot). His dark hair is styled (but not overly so), he has the perfect amount of stubble, and deep, expressive eyes beneath defined brows, and – his best asset, in my opinion – a wide, readily available smile. He has good teeth, his fingernails are neatly trimmed, and he always smells divine. He has good manners too. He’s attentive and interesting and never monopolises our conversations. And, most impressive of all, when we spoke about our work (I’m a history teacher at the local secondary school) and he asked about my favourite time period, he didn’t gloss over as I gushed about my passion for all things Tudor. He is, on the surface, the perfect package.

But he has to go, I’m afraid.

‘It’s too soon, isn’t it?’ he asks as I sit staring at him from across the table, my fork suspended between plate and (gaping) mouth. I haven’t said a word since he suggested I meet his parents next weekend, but I manage to pull myself together, snapping my cavernous mouth shut and pushing my lips into what I hope resembles a smile and not the grimace I’m feeling deep inside.

‘No. Of course it isn’t too soon.’

I’m lying. It’s way too soon. This is our third date, for goodness’ sake! I’ve had a longer, more fulfilling relationship with the half-packet of Polos in my handbag. I don’t know him well enough to meet his parents; I don’t know whether he prefers salt and vinegar crisps or cheese and onion, which supermarket he frequents, how many sugars he takes in his tea or coffee (see, I don’t even know his preference of hot beverage!) or how he feels about Brexit. We haven’t even slept together yet! Now, call me crazy, but I’d quite like to know what he’s like in the sack before we start doing full-on couple stuff.

‘So?’ He looks at me with those gorgeous eyes, eyebrows lifted, fingertips meeting above his plate as though half in prayer. ‘What do you think?’

‘It’s… an idea.’

A stupid idea. Ludicrous. Who meets the parents of somebody they’ve been on three measly dates with? We won’t make it to a fourth, that’s for sure. I’d probably find an engagement ring floating in my Chardonnay considering the speed this bloke works at.

‘Great!’ If he senses my discomfort, he doesn’t show it as he flashes his wide smile. ‘What do you want to do?’

Go home? Curl up on the sofa with Carrot (my cat, not a root vegetable) and pretend this date never happened?

‘We could go for a hike?’ he suggests when I don’t respond. My fork is still frozen in the air, the speared stuffed mushroom no longer appetising. ‘We could take a picnic or stop off for a pub lunch? Do you own a pair of hiking boots? We can pick some up on the way if you don’t.’

‘Are you a big fan of hiking?’ I’m enquiring more to avoid answering the question than out of genuine interest, to be honest, but he doesn’t pick up on this.

‘Oh, yes.’ He nods effusively and picks up his cutlery while I place mine down gently on my plate. ‘We love it! The fresh air, the views…’ He sighs happily and starts to saw into his steak. ‘Gets your heart rate going too.’

Do you know what else gets your heart rate going? The prospect of dumping a perfectly nice guy because he’s galloping way ahead of you, moving you on to a new stage of your relationship before you’re even remotely ready. But I have to do this, before I find myself clad in brand-new hiking boots, making polite conversation with Mr and Mrs Nice Guy while dragging my carcass up a hill.

But just look at him. He’s so sweet, chatting away animatedly about the top hiking routes to take on the outskirts of Woodgate, the pubs that serve the best lunches, where to buy my new boots (his treat). I need to let him down – gently, obviously – but I’m not sure how to do it without hurting his feelings.

‘Maybe we can spend the weekend after with your parents.’ His fate is sealed as he pops a forkful of steak into his mouth. I now know, without a doubt, that this three-date relationship will be over before he’s swallowed.

 

My house is just ahead, a two-bed terrace nestled between the Chelsea Flower Show and a drug den. Okay, so it isn’t the actual Chelsea Flower Show, but our neighbour has filled the tiny strip of yard at the front of her house with enough shrubs, blooms and decorative solar lights to create a mini exhibition. And our other neighbouring property isn’t really a drug den, though the lads who live there do dabble in a bit of weed dealing. The smell is sometimes as overpowering as Mrs Hodgkinson’s primroses.

I’ve lived in this little house with my best friend for a decade, ever since we were students commuting daily into Manchester for uni and the waitressing jobs that helped fund our not-quite-lavish lifestyles. Alice is technically my landlady as she owns the house, but I’m an exemplary lodger so it’s never been a problem. It works for us, anyway. I love living with my best friend and the rent is extremely reasonable, which helps when you’re a teacher at a state school, and Alice likes to wind her family up (especially her annoying stepmother) by still ‘living in squalor like a student’. We don’t live in squalor, but Francelia Monroe (the annoying stepmother) has issues.

Our house looks so inviting as I approach, the lamp inside the living room casting a warm glow now it’s just starting to turn dark, but I don’t ask the taxi driver to stop just yet. There’s plenty of space to park, but we carry on up the road, stopping several doors away so the rumbling engine doesn’t alert Alice to my arrival. My plan is to sneak, as quiet as a mouse wearing cotton-wool slippers, into the house and up the stairs without Alice hearing a thing. I know she’ll want to dissect the date – What did we talk about? Did we kiss (or get up to anything more saucy)? Wouldn’t he make a fabulous husband and father one day? – and I simply don’t have the energy or inclination to discuss any of it. Not tonight. Alice will be so disappointed I’ve let another good guy slip through my fingers, so I’ll let her down gently in the morning (or shout it over my shoulder as I leg it from the house with a piece of toast clutched in hand so I don’t have to go into detail). Alice has been trying to find my perfect match for the past year. She’s always had herself pegged as a bit of a Cupid, but three things happened a year ago to propel her nagging about my love life to actual meddling. The first was the introduction of Alice and Kevin, one of the music teachers at my school. Alice had been a bit mopey since her sister announced her engagement, so when a group of us got together to celebrate the end of the school year, to toast our surviving yet another set of GCSEs and kick off the summer holidays in style, I invited Alice to join us. She hit it off with Kevin and, one year on, they’re proper loved up, and Alice thinks it’s all down to me. She’s determined to repay the favour, even if I’d rather she didn’t. I’m happy being single. It’s less complicated. Less stressful. Ending my relationship with Edward – the second thing that happened a year ago – was the right decision, no matter how much Alice tells me otherwise.

I pull my keys out of my handbag as I scurry past the row of houses, making an emergency stop as I reach the Chelsea Flower Show. From here, I tiptoe (yes, really – I look like a flipping cartoon character) past the shrubs and flowers until I reach our wall. I pause while I consider – briefly – whether I should drop down to the pavement and army-crawl past the window. The blinds are still open and, although my view is obscured by their angle from the outside, Alice will be able to see me clearly if she happens to look outside. But no, even I’m not that irrational.

With extreme care, I inch my key up to the lock, holding my breath as metal reaches metal. Growing up, I had lots of practice at sneaking into houses – non-burglar-like – as I often stayed with my great aunt, who was strict about curfews (screw it, let’s call a spade a spade – the woman was a mean old cow), so I manage to slot the key into place almost silently, turning it ever so gently until the door starts to give. This is the easy bit done with. The hardest part is removing the key without alerting the occupant inside.

With one hand against the door, I ease the key from the lock, breath held and face scrunched up in concentration. I’m nearly there. The key is coming loose. A little bit more and it’ll be free. I’ll creep inside, closing the door with as little noise as possible, before slinking up the stairs. Once I’ve made it up there, I’m golden. If Alice finds me in bed, I’ll just pretend to be asleep.

The key slips from the lock and I give the door a gentle nudge, almost jumping out of my skin as I come face to face with Alice, looming on the doormat like Great Aunt Dorothy.

‘Holy humus, Alice!’ I’ve somehow managed to swallow the gasp of surprise as I take a step back, one hand pressed against my chest. ‘What are you doing? You scared the crap out of me.’

‘Ssh!’ Alice’s eyes are wide, a finger vertical across her lips. When she speaks, she’s whispering. ‘I thought you were Kevin.’

‘Do you usually hide behind the door to scare the living daylights out of your boyfriend?’ I, too, am whispering, though I’m not sure why.

‘No, of course not.’ Alice grabs me and pulls me inside, her finger going back up to her lips once my feet are firmly on the ground again. She nods towards the living room. ‘Francelia is here.’

‘What?’ I manage to groan while whispering. ‘Why? What have we done to deserve this?’

‘Something bad, obviously.’ Alice narrows her eyes at me. ‘Why are you home so early?’

I concentrate on shoving my keys into my handbag so I don’t have to look at Alice when I reply. ‘The date didn’t go too well.’

I sneak a peek up at Alice. She’s folded her arms across her chest and an eyebrow is quirked at me. ‘What do you mean? What happened?’

This is why I was so keen to avoid Alice tonight. She’s affronted every time a date goes awry, as though I’ve insulted her by not falling head over heels with the guy. I look down at the doormat beneath my feet. This really is like getting collared sneaking into Great Aunt Dorothy’s house and I’m lost for words as she awaits an explanation.

‘Emily…?’

I sneak another peek at her. Poor Alice. There is such hope in her eyes. It’s going to be such a shame to squish it.

‘I ended it.’

‘You ended it?’ Alice’s voice comes out all high and squeaky, and she clamps a hand to her mouth, her eyes swivelling towards the closed living room door. When she speaks again, the whisper is back. ‘What happened?’ Her eyebrow quirks again, as though adding ‘this time’ to the end of her question.

‘He wanted me to meet his parents.’ I wait for a reaction, but Alice doesn’t bat an eyelid. ‘His parents, Alice. We’ve been on three dates. That isn’t normal!’

Alice opens her mouth to argue, but closes it again with a sigh. ‘I suppose you’re right. It is a bit soon.’

‘A bit soon?’ I give a hoot, which earns me a death glare from Alice, who thrusts a thumb at the living room. I dutifully lower my voice even further. ‘Three dates, Alice. I’ve known the man for approximately six hours. You’ve been with Kevin for a year and…’ I yelp as Alice grabs me by the arm, her grip so tight it pinches.

‘Will you shush?’ Her eyes are back on the living room door again.

‘Sorry.’ I try to extricate myself from Alice’s grasp, but the woman’s fingers are like a vice. ‘But you know what I mean. Also, you’re really hurting me.’

‘What?’ Alice looks down, suddenly realising I’m trying to squirm from her grip. ‘Oh. Sorry.’ She releases my arm and I start to inch towards the stairs.

‘Anyway, I’m exhausted. I’m going to go up to bed.’

‘No, you are not.’ Alice’s fingers are clutching my arm again before I can make any attempt to shuffle off upstairs. ‘You are not leaving me with that woman. She’s been here for twenty minutes and I already feel like jumping off a very tall building. She’s mocked my career choice, my living arrangements, my so-called weight gain.’ Alice looks down at her tiny frame. ‘Pur-lease. Bitch knows I look smokin’ hot.’ She tightens her grip on my arm, and her eyebrows press down low. ‘Any minute now we’re going to start on my love life. I need you, Emily.’

‘Wouldn’t it be easier if you just told them about Kevin?’

Despite their one-year relationship, Alice hasn’t told her family about her boyfriend. They’ve never met him or even heard his name. As far as they’re aware, Alice is still very much single (and doesn’t Francelia like to goad Alice about that).

‘Are you kidding me?’ Alice jabs her free hand at the living room door. ‘That woman in there would make our relationship hell until she’d crushed it if she knew about me and Kevin. You’ve met her. She’s evil. There’s not a chance in hell she’d accept Kevin.’

‘Not even if she knew you were totally in lurve with him?’ I make a silly kissy face, but it doesn’t make Alice smile. In fact, it makes her face and shoulders droop.

‘Especially if she knew I was totally in love with him. She’s done it before and she’ll do it again. She doesn’t want me to be happy.’

‘You have to tell them the truth one day,’ I point out.

‘I know.’ Alice nods, though with little enthusiasm. ‘And I will. Just not now when Carolyn’s about to get married. The wedding is the only thing that’s put Francelia in a good mood – I don’t want to ruin it. Now isn’t a good time.’

‘Will there ever be a good time?’ I ask, but Alice doesn’t get the chance to answer as the living room door swings open. I almost recoil in horror as evil stepmother Francelia appears in the doorway. She’s actually beautiful (on the outside) – though this is more down to her highly paid surgeon than Mother Nature. Francelia is forty-seven (and not thirty-five as she tells everyone) but she doesn’t have a single crease on her face or grey hair in her glossy, chin-length bob.

‘What’s going on out here?’ she asks, eyes narrowed (no crow’s feet) and one hand planted on a slender hip. ‘And why have I been left to fend for myself? This is not how we treat guests, Alice. You are a very rude young lady at times. Your father would be shocked at your behaviour.’

‘Papa Monroe not here today then?’ I pop my head past Francelia into what I know will be an empty living room. Alice’s father hasn’t been to the house in the ten years I’ve lived here, and I think I’d die of shock if he rocked up now.

‘Mr Monroe is very busy this evening.’ Francelia has an icy glare when she’s irritated. It’s actually quite scary. It makes me wonder what would happen if I chanted ‘Francelia Monroe’ three times in front of a mirror.

‘He is a very busy man,’ I say, which is clear, as he never has time for his daughter. Alice flashes me a pleading look, silently begging me to leave it. Alice is a strong and feisty woman, but she wilts whenever she’s in Francelia’s presence.

‘He is indeed.’ The corners of Francelia’s mouth pull upwards, hinting at a smile. ‘Now, are we going to stand out here all evening?’

‘No. Of course not.’ Alice finally releases my arm and follows Francelia back into the living room. She glances over her shoulder, eyes wide and pleading. It’s been a very trying evening and I want nothing more than to drag myself up the stairs and crawl into bed, but I can’t do that to Alice. Taking a fortifying breath, I step into the living room and prepare for battle.

 

JENNIFER JOYCE is a writer of romantic comedies who lives in Manchester with her husband and their two daughters. She’s been scribbling down bits of stories for as long as she can remember, graduating from a pen to a typewriter and then an electronic typewriter. And she felt like the bee’s knees typing on THAT. She now writes her books on a laptop (which has a proper delete button and everything).

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