Clicking Her Heels

Clicking Her Heels
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Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world…When Amy Marsh's boyfriend mistakenly believes she's two-timing him, he plots the ultimate revenge on a shoe-addict… and sells her prized collection on eBay.Amy embarks on a modern-day Cinderella quest to reclaim her pride and joy, travelling to New York, Ireland and Miami and meeting a whole host of unlikely characters - including some real-life ugly sisters and a very sexy Prince Charming…Amy begins to realise that her shoes aren't mere accessories - from her favourite killer heels to her late mother's beloved ballet slippers, each pair holds unforgettable memories.But as Amy is reunited with her most cherished possessions, she unearths secrets about her past - and a few home truths. Could it be that the important things in life don't always come boxed and gift-wrapped…?Kick up your heels with this romantic comedy with sole, for fans of Sophie Kinsella, The Devil Wears Prada and shoeholics everywhere….


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Clicking Her Heels


This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.


A division of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

A Paperback Original 2007

Copyright © Working Partners 2007

Lucy Hepburn asserts the moral right to

be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is

available from the British Library

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins eBooks.

Ebook Edition © JANUARY 2009 ISBN: 9780007278893

Version: 2018-05-17

With special thanks to Erica Munro

The average person walks the equivalent of four anda half times round the earth in a lifetime.

They’re going to need a lot of shoes.

Saturday, early morning, and twenty-four-year-old Amy Marsh was running through her checklist, trying to keep a lid on her mounting excitement.

OK – purse, phone, Oyster Card – check.

A–Z – check.

Bus and tube maps – check.

Morning sunshine peeked in and winked at her through the slats of the wooden blinds in the third-floor flat she shared with her boyfriend, Justin.

Lip gloss – check.

Bottle of water – check.

Justin was still asleep, exhausted after larging it into the small hours at some hip PR party he’d organised for one of his new bands. Amy was glad. Had he been up he’d only tease her about how she got more excited about these missions than she ever did about going out on dates with him.

‘Huh, that’s not true,’ she’d murmured.

Sensible shoes – NO WAY!

She looked down at her feet and smiled.

‘Or is it?’

The blue denim Gucci wedges she’d bought for a song off the Internet a couple of months before looked stunning, as well as adding three much-needed inches to her five-foot-two frame. If she paced herself, they would easily carry her round the streets for a day. Well, at least they would if she took a bus or two along the way.

Then she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, studying the young woman who looked back at her with a quizzical shrug. Her dark brown hair swung glossily around her shoulders, her pale skin looked fresh and clear, and her hazel eyes glittered with anticipation.

Not bad, I guess.

Comb – check.

Eyeliner – check – no, forget that, I’m fine with justthe touch I’ve got on already.

She wore a crisp, sleeveless white top and her favourite skinny jeans, the pale blue bottom-hugging ones that flattered her figure. Then, as a final thought before skipping out of the Victorian apartment building to catch the tube, she pulled off the chunky wooden bangle that was knocking annoyingly against her watch.

After all, she smiled to herself, when it comes to shoe shopping, there’s no room for distractions …

Thirty minutes later she was standing in a gorgeous shoe shop in Covent Garden with Debbie and Jesminder, her best friends from, the Internet travel company where they worked.

Amy dug Jesminder in the ribs. ‘Over there,’ she hissed. ‘Green snakeskin mules third shelf down.’

Jesminder looked and frowned. ‘Hmm, do you think? Aren’t they a bit flimsy?’

Flimsy?’ Amy echoed in disgust. ‘Outright drop-dead gorgeous, I think you mean.’

Jesminder tilted her head to one side, taking another long look. ‘Do I? Well, they just don’t look very easy to walk in, that’s all.’

Debbie, tall and curvy, her long blonde hair freshly highlighted and styled in a shaggy knot at the nape of her neck, called over her shoulder, ‘OK, where did you say you were off to tonight again?’

Amy coloured. ‘Um, well, actually, I didn’t …’

Now was the time to come clean, she guessed. It was bad enough keeping it a secret from Justin, but she should be able to tell her friends.

‘Jes, hello? It’s Amy we’re talking about here!’ said Debbie, not noticing Amy’s unease. ‘It’s

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