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Title: The Last Day of Winter
Author: Shari Low
Genre: Holiday Romance
Pub. Date: October 3, 2019
Publisher: Aria Fiction
Hosted: Head of Zeus Books
Add to #Goodreads TBR ↓
#BuyLinks ↓
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2Bc0Bri
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2HWoiYA
Kobo: https://bit.ly/2Zq1KFD
iBooks: https://apple.co/2ZssftV
Google Play: https://bit.ly/2ZxvpMR
Blurb ↓
One December wedding. One runaway bride. One winter's day to bring everyone together again.
Today is the day Caro and Cammy are due to walk up the aisle. But Caro's too caught up in the trauma of her past to contemplate their happy ever after.
Stacey's decision to return from L.A. is fuelled by one thing – telling Cammy how she feels, before it's too late.
Wedding planner, Josie, needs to sort the whole mess out, but she's just been dealt some devastating news. Can she get through the day without spilling her secret?
On a chilly winter's day, they have twenty-four hours to prove that love can lead the way to a brighter future...
Perfect for fans of Isabelle Broom, Sarah Morgan and Amanda Prowse.
EXTRACT ↓
‘Jones,’ Caro murmured. How many times had she said that name in her head, yet still it didn’t feel real. Caro Jones. Mrs Caro Jones. Wife of Cameron Jones, commonly known as Cammy. Love of her life. Best friend. Easy on the eye.
In just a few hours, that was who she’d be. The thought brought on another lurch of panic and she could feel that familiar sensation of her ribs closing in to squeeze the life out of her.
There was a stirring from the floor at the end of the bed, before a head slowly appeared over the footboard, blinking in the light like someone emerging from underneath an avalanche after at least a fortnight in the snow. ‘What did I miss?’ Jen croaked.
‘It’s… it’s…’ Chrissie struggled to focus on her watch. ‘Quarter past eight on Caro’s wedding day and we’re the worst bridesmaids ever.’ Still no head movement, but her eyes flicked to Caro again. ‘How could we have let this happen? We were supposed to have you in bed by 9 p.m. so you’d wake up refreshed and glowing like a goddess for your big day. I remember a…’ she squeezed her eyes closed as her memory disc kicked into action, ‘Christmas party at the next table. And then dancing. And singing. And climbing on a chair and telling the whole restaurant that you were getting married today. And then… drinks. Vodka.’
‘Tequila,’ Caro corrected her.
‘Yes! Tequila. And a…’ Another squint. ‘Was there a mariachi band playing Christmas songs or have I completely lost it?’
‘There was,’ Caro reassured her.
‘Oh, thank God. I keep hearing myself sing Santa La Bamba in my head. I’m sorry, Caro, we should have done a much better job than this. I’ll understand if you sack us.’
‘I really should,’ Caro told her, feigning gravity. The truth was, sacking her bridesmaids would be a mere drop in the swirl of emotions that were currently sucking her down a dark well.
Her wedding day. Taking place, for extra cute points, on the last Friday before Christmas, exactly two years after she and Cammy first met. In fact, it was also two years since she’d stepped foot in Glasgow for the first time, after travelling there from her home in Aberdeen, in search of the father who’d deserted her and her mum. To her devastation, she’d found him – and a whole load of secrets and lies that she could never have anticipated. But it wasn’t all bad news. Thanks to that trip, she’d also found a new home, an incredible group of friends, a city she loved and a fiancé she adored.
Yet, right now, head thumping and stomach churning, it didn’t feel like she was in a fluffy haze of counting her blessings.
Breathe. Just breathe. It’ll pass. It has to.
Still dangling over the footboard at the end the bed, her eyes bloodshot, her mascara verging on panda, Jen squinted at her watch. ‘Oh Jesus, Val and Josie will be here soon. I haven’t had a bollocking from Val since I was fifteen and she found out I’d been smoking at the school disco. Somebody save me.’ Val had been Jen’s surrogate mum since she was a young teenager, when Val and her husband Don had swooped in to take care of a girl whose mother had died and whose father preferred a drink to raising his daughter. Val, and her best friend Josie, were the matriarchs in that incredible group of friends that Caro had found here. Some related, some not, they were a big, happy, mutually supportive, caring group of strong women and decent men, most of whom worked in the same row of shops in Glasgow’s Merchant City, a stylish area of the city centre packed with high-end boutiques, trendy bars and great restaurants. Back in Aberdeen, Caro had been a primary school teacher, but she was taking a sabbatical and enjoying working with Cammy in CAMDEN, his upmarket menswear boutique, while Jen and Chrissie were partners in Sun, Sea, Ski, the one-stop holiday shop next door.
Thankfully, extra staff had been brought in to run both shops that day, to let the bosses enjoy all things marital.
If they ever got there.
Despite the throbbing hangover, a mental image of Val chiding thirty-two year old Jen made Caro grin. Perhaps it was more of a grimace. ‘Nope, you’re on your own. But if you need coffee, I can just about cover that.’
Reacting to Jen’s strained nod, she tentatively placed her feet on the floor and pushed, managing to stabilise herself in a standing position, despite a sudden wave of nausea and another searing temple pain. Her legs hurt. Her body hurt. Hell, even her eyelashes hurt.
Wobbling with every step, she made it through to the kitchen. Morning coffee was normally Cammy’s domain, but he’d gone off to stay in a hotel last night, the first one they’d spent apart since becoming a couple.
After downing a large glass of water in one go, it took a few welcome moments of solitude to make three coffees and then load a plate with croissants and the butter dish. When all else fails, turn to carbs, Caro decided, popping a chunk of pastry in her mouth. It didn’t help, but it took her mind off her woes for a split second, before another wave of fear kicked in. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t.
She pressed her shaking hands together, attempting to stop the sheen of sweat that was forming on each palm.
The doorbell cut through her thoughts, as did an audible, ‘Fuck, I bet that’s Val. I’m a dead woman. Don’t answer it,’ coming from Jen in the bedroom.
Shari Low is the No1 best-selling author of over 20 novels, including With Or Without You, Another Day In Winter, One Day In December, A Life Without You, This Is Me and The Story Of Our Life. And because she likes to over-share toe-curling moments and hapless disasters, she is also the shameless mother behind a collection of parenthood memories called Because Mummy Said So. Once upon a time she met a guy, got engaged after a week, and twenty-something years later she lives near Glasgow with her husband, a labradoodle, and two teenagers who think she's fairly embarrassing except when they need a lift.
Author Links ↓
Website: www.sharilow.com
Twitter: @ShariLow
Facebook: @sharilowbooks
Instagram: @sharilowbooks
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