LUCY KNOTT is a former professional wrestler with a passion for storytelling. Now, instead of telling her stories in the ring, she’s putting pen to paper, fulfilling another lifelong dream in becoming an author.
Lucy is a self-professed hopeless romantic, her husband being the reason behind her desire to write.
Inspired by her Italian grandparents, when she is not writing you will most likely find her cooking, baking and devouring Italian food, in addition to learning Italian and daydreaming of trips to Italy.
Along with her twin sister, Kelly, Lucy runs TheBlossomTwins.com, where she enthusiastically shares her love for books, baking and Italy, with daily posts, reviews and recipes.
You can find Lucy on Twitter @TheBlossomTwins or @LucyCKnott
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
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London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018
Copyright © Lucy Knott 2018
Lucy Knott 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.
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.
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, downloaded, 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.
E-book Edition © September 2018 ISBN: 9780008282158
Version: 2018-07-17
Ingredients:
Bread
Butter
Heinz baked beans (Always stock up when you go to Target)
What to do:
Toast bread and heat up beans in a saucepan or microwave. (Never tell Amanda you use the microwave.)
Butter toast and drizzle beans over the top. (Doesn’t taste quite like home, but it will do, I suppose. Don’t get sad, you’re living your dream and don’t be ungrateful, the boys are awesome, and you’ve worked so hard to get to this point. Mmm beans, I wonder what Levi is up to? Why does England have to be six hours ahead when you’re spending another night alone and could do with a sister chat? Just eat your beans.)
Sabrina realized that she had been mindlessly shuffling paper for the past fifteen minutes. It was gone five in the afternoon and she needed to go home and pack. Yet, she was sitting at her desk, eyes wide, staring at the mini chandelier that hung from the ceiling. The crystals bounced light off the walls and led to the dreamy state Sabrina found herself in as she daydreamed about the day that Levi first burst into her office.
Why did she always do this to herself? Every Christmas for the past two years she couldn’t get him out of her head. Was she really that lonely? Couldn’t she fantasize about men who weren’t off limits? Better yet, couldn’t she stop fantasizing altogether and venture into the real world and meet a non-rock-star man who wasn’t way out of her league? She huffed to herself as her phone rang, startling her. Seeing that it was her baby sister, Louisa, she put on an enthusiastic smile and answered with the cheeriest hello she could muster.
‘Are you all packed? Do you have everything ready for tomorrow?’ her not-quite-as-cheerful-sounding sister asked abruptly.
Sabrina blinked away the dancing crystals of the chandelier that were starting to give her a headache and went back to shuffling papers as she answered her sister’s questions. ‘Yes, yes, of course, Lou. I have everything organized – you know me, what am I if not organized?’ She felt a twinge of guilt for her white lie, but she didn’t want her sister to worry. Normally, she was the queen of packing, but with the band’s new release approaching and her brain often getting distracted by a certain drummer, she hadn’t quite been herself lately.
‘OK, so you will be on that flight tomorrow?’ Louisa asked, her voice a little imperious.
All Sabrina’s attempts at bubbliness evaporated. She snatched the band’s schedule from the desk and made her way to the door to head to the photocopier room. She was too tired to deal with Louisa’s sceptical, patronizing tone.
‘Lou, please. It’s Grandpa’s ninety-sixth birthday; of course I will be on that flight tomorrow. I