A Miracle at Macy’s: There’s only one dog who can save Christmas
‘A romantic, festive and feel-good book with loads of heart and a sprinkling of Christmas magic’ – Cressida McLaughlin, author of ‘A Christmas Tail’‘Christmas time or not, pick up this book. Lover of romance or not, pick up this book…It's captivating, comforting and a must read. I loved it.’ – Goodreads ReviewerOne lost dog. Two lonely hearts. A Manhattan Christmas full of magic.Shy homebody Charlotte is planning her usual quiet Christmas celebration: Turkey for two for her and her beloved pet dog Hudson. Only, this year, little Hudson decides to take matters into his own paws and give his favourite human a holiday adventure she’ll never forget.When Hudson runs away the week before Christmas, Charlotte is devastated. She’d rescued him from the trash years before and gave him a place in her home – and her heart. But with the help of uptight Englishman Henry, Charlotte ends up on a magical treasure hunt around Manhattan to find her furry, four-legged bestie.Spotted in Central Park as one of Santa's Little Helpers, or last seen in the arms of a supermodel in Times Square, Hudson leads Charlotte and Henry on a very merry dance around the Big Apple, where love, (or should that be Christmas?!) actually is all around.'Marley & Me' meets 'When Harry Met Sally'!‘Easily one of my most enjoyed Christmas books of the season' – Rachel's Random Reads
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HarperImpulse an imprint of
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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015
Copyright © Lynn Marie Hulsman 2015
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'A fabulous read…just magical'
Becca's Books
'A lovely, funny and sexy modern "upstairs, downstairs" story. Prepare yourself for a Christmas like you've never seen before'
M's Bookshelf
'A classy, witty story with lots of laughs, a few tears and most importantly heartfelt romance'
Jane Hunt Writer Book Reviews
'One of my favourite romantic comedies'
Reviewed the Book
'Christmas at Thornton Hall easily makes it onto my list of my most favourite reads of 2013'
Cosmochicklitan
'A good debut novel that I really enjoyed'
Chick Lit Chloe
For Rosie and Wolfie, the best presents I ever got.
Contents
They say dogs are man’s best friend and that a woman’s not a woman until she’s a wife. Wrong! I’m here to tell you that the most natural match in the world is a girl and her dog…end of.
Take me and Hudson, for example. We couldn’t be happier. Ever since the magical day I found him wet and skinny, huddled in the back of a Macy’s shopping bag. You know the one. With the big red star on it? Since the day I saved him, we’ve been each other’s family. Well, that’s not the whole story. I mean, the family part is. But if I were to be honest, I’d have to admit that he saved me as much as I saved him. Maybe more.
“Harf! Harf, harf!”
“Quiet, Huddie,” I scold, as he comes tearing into the kitchen, claws skittering over the polished wood floor, launched from his cozy nest on the sofa. “It’s early. You’ll wake the whole building.”
“Worf!” Not only does my little mutt keep barking, he also has the nerve to start jumping against the kitchen island where I’m up to my elbows grating frozen beef fat (suet, to those in the know) so I can to test a recipe for traditional English mincemeat Christmas pies.
‘It’s a marshmallow world in the winter…when the snow comes to cover the grouuuund…’
“Oh, the phone! Of course. You are a wonder dog, aren’t you?” My December ringtone is the jaunty Dean Martin rendition of one of my favorite retro holiday songs. I should have guessed. Hudson has a knack for barking right before my phone rings. I chalk it up to being a version of that thing animals do when they sense earthquakes and tsunamis.
“Rowf!”
“Yes, the phone. I hear it, Huddie. I’m getting it. It’s not life and death,” I say wiping my hand on a freshly bleached, extra-large Williams-Sonoma kitchen towel. “I do have voicemail, you know.”
“Hello darling, I scarcely have a minute to breathe, never mind visiting the loo, but I promised I’d ring you this week. I’m told you’re in my diary, so here I am.”
It’s Aunt Miranda. If she were Native American, her name would be more “Bursts in Frantic,” than one of the more traditional, serene names like, “Walks with Nature” or “Drifts on Clouds.”
“Good morning, Aunt Miranda,” I say slipping Hudson a pinch of the suet. He’s considerate enough to nibble it gently out from between my fingers. I know that took disciplined restraint on his part. “I’ve missed you too.” Hudson finishes his morsel, and rubs against my leg to give me a hug.
“Now Charlotte, don’t be like that! You know I always miss you, it’s only my hair’s on fire with the Rockefeller Tree Lighting tonight. As you know, those early December blizzards really threw a spanner in the works. We had this planned for the week after Thanksgiving, the way it has been for years and years. But they’ve only just managed to resurface the skating rink after the weight of the snow caused that massive crack. The commissioner only just declared it safe to the public. Pulling off this huge event this close to Christmas Day will be the triumph of my career. Between you, me, and the lamppost, it’s going to be spectacular.”
