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Mansell excels at creating relationships that are dynamic and complicated." -Savvy Verse and Wit With over 9 million copies sold, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jill Mansell writes irresistible and funny romantic tales for women in the tradition of Marian Keyes and Sophie Kinsella.She worked for many years at the Burden Neurological Hospital, Bristol, and now writes full time.Dressed in shorts, T-shirts, and baseball caps, the one in front was carrying a rolled-up yellow-and-white-striped towel, while his companion clutched a haphazard bundle of clothes. " As she spoke, Lottie was shrugging off the miles-too-big suit jacket, handing it back to Tyler and wriggling into her crumpled sundress. And out of the three of you, funnily enough, I believe him. Or I'll stop your allowance for the next six weeks."First Ruby, then Nat dropped down from the branches. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.Glancing up the lane and spotting Tyler, they giggled again and leaped down from the stile into the cornfield beyond. So get down out of that tree, get into the house, and start tidying your bedrooms. Dark eyes narrowed in disgust, they glared at Tyler. "Mansell's writing is a perfect antidote to a bad day.Maybe if she stayed out here long enough someone would eventually call social services and a battle-ax child protection officer would turn up.Ruby and Nat would be whisked away to some echoing Dickensian children's home, forced to eat liver and cold turnip soup. ""I'm thinking of my street cred."Interested, Lottie said, "What are you doing here, anyway? "There clearly wasn't much call for city suits here in Hestacombe.
It was a blisteringly hot day in August, her afternoon off, and she was floating on her back in the water gazing up at a cloudless, cobalt-blue sky. When it was four o'clock in the afternoon and you were the mother of two children there was always that one small bothersome cloud hovering on the horizon: What to cook for dinner. But Nat, who was seven, would only consent to eat pasta with olives and mint sauce, and Lottie knew there were no olives left in the fridge. But Ruby would pick out the mushrooms, accusing them of being slimy like snails, and refuse to eat the bacon because bacon was — bleurgh — pig. Now she really was wandering into the realms of fantasy.
There was a faint unearthly wailing sound coming from somewhere he couldn't quite place. Except he wasn't hiding in the bushes and he had all his own hair. Look, did you really leave diamond earrings with your clothes? Her main characters are identifiable, funny, frustrating and just plain real." - Amateur Bookmark"Funny and entertaining." - Mrs Leif's Two Fangs About It"Jill Mansell writes satisfying stories.
And this girl didn't have a large knife strapped to her thigh. Her long dark hair was a riot of snaky curls plastered to her shoulders, her body curvy and deeply tanned. But I'm not the one playing it." Half turning, Tyler indicated the narrow lane behind him.
If he were to tell her that he'd mistaken her for a kingfisher, Lottie would say teasingly, "Freddie, time to get your eyes tested."He hadn't told her that he already had. But this isn't funny." No longer amused, the girl said impatiently, "I can't believe they'd do something so stupid. Because now I'm stuck here with no clothes —""You're welcome to borrow my jacket.""And no shoes.""I'm not lending you my shoes," Tyler drawled. Plus, that'd leave me with nothing to put on my feet.""Wuss." Thinking hard, the girl said, "OK, look, can you do me a favor? She had excellent white teeth and a persuasive manner. ""Right, now I know this isn't ideal, but you have an honest face so I'm going to have to trust you. So you can climb down from there and go get my clothes this minute.""We don't know where they are! Without a word, Lottie disappeared inside the cottage.
And the rest.* * *The lane that ran alongside the garden of Hestacombe House was narrow and banked high on both sides with poppies, cow parsley, and blackberry bushes. Go back up to the village, past the pub, and my house is three doors down on the right. The doorbell's broken so you'll have to bang on the door. If they aren't there, you'll just have to take the front door key out from under the tub of geraniums by the porch and let yourself into the house. Just grab something from the wardrobe." Her mouth twitching, the girl said, "And no snooping in my panty drawer while you're there. well, that's even worse.""Hi." Seizing his hand, she enthusiastically shook it. Through the open windows they heard the banging and crashing of cupboards and wardrobes being opened and shut.
readers will be delighted." -Booklist "Jill Mansell combines, humor, friendship, romance and betrayal...