Never Kiss a Man in a Christmas Sweater
You’ve seen Mark Darcy in the reindeer jumper his mother gave him, now meet Marco Cavelli in this season’s Christmas knit!For single mum Maggie, Christmas has always been a family occasion – her daughter Ellen filling the house with her bubbly warmth and mistletoe, her dad Paddy having one too many festive tipples, and the traditional family Christmas tree looking like a drunken elf vomited a rainbow all over it.But this year, with both Ellen and Paddy away for the holidays, Maggie’s facing a truly blue Christmas – alone with nothing but a bottle of Baileys and an M&S turkey dinner.Until walking the snowy streets of Oxford, Marco Cavelli quite literally crashes into her life – and, complete with broken leg, becomes her unexpected houseguest. All dreamy brown eyes and 6’5” of gorgeousness, the man is hotter and more delicious than a freshly baked mince pie.Though Maggie always thought it’s a truth universally acknowledged that you never kiss a man in a Christmas jumper?The next FABULOUS book from Debbie Johnson, author of best-selling Christmas number one, ‘Cold Feet at Christmas’ and the summer hit ‘Pippa’s Cornish Dream’.
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Never Kiss a Man in a Christmas Sweater
DEBBIE JOHNSON
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HarperImpulse an imprint of
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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015
Copyright © Debbie Johnson 2015
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015
Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
Debbie Johnson 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.
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Ebook Edition © October 2015 ISBN: 9780008169442
Version 2018-02-15
'A sheer delight'
Sunday Express
'Has all the best ingredients for a holiday read: the beautiful West Country, a family-run farm, and a mystery man with Poldark-style charms'
Yours Magazine
'The perfect summer story – a funny and moving read set in glorious modern-day Poldark country'
Bestselling author Jane Costello
'A summer romance with an abundance of country charm, Pippa’s Cornish Dream by Debbie Johnson is a standout title for this season'
Book Chick City
'A beautifully addictive read'
Reviewed the Book
'Just wonderful'
Lisa Talks About
Contents
The Birthday That Changed Everything
Part One: Oxford – 39 and counting…
Coming Soon from Debbie Johnson …
The third time she encountered the man she now knew as Marco Cavelli, Maggie gave him a Christmas present to remember. A broken leg and two fractured ribs. Gift wrapped with a few facial abrasions and a very festive black eye.
Of course, it was all his fault. He was cycling on the wrong side of the road, in heavy snow, listening to loud music that drowned out her warning cries as the two of them veered towards each other. Two unstoppable forces, both covered in fluffy white stuff, both bundled up in hats, gloves and scarves. Only one of them looking where they were going.
Sadly, he took the ear buds out just in time to hear her cries of ‘you complete arsehole’, ‘what the hell do you think you were doing?’ and ‘oh shit…hold on, I’m just calling an ambulance.’ Ever the lady, she thought, adding a few even worse words in her own mind.
As she crawled across the ice to reach him, her jean-clad knees soaked through with icy snow, teeth chattering and fingers trembling as she dug her phone from her pocket, she decided that Sod’s Law had well and truly shafted them.
It was her first day off in over a month. The first day she’d had entirely free from sequins and bows and velveteen loops and concealed zips and hooks and eyes and taffeta and lace. The first entire day free of pin-pricked fingers and nervous brides and half-cut mother-in-laws and last minute nervous breakdowns.
And what a day it had promised to be. Gloriously cold and frosty, the sky stretching overhead, a clear shining plain of dazzling blue; virgin snow turning the garden and the streets around her house into a joyful white confection.
Oxford in the snow. It was stunning, and never failed to knock her socks off. Though not literally, as she was wearing two pairs. She cycled carefully into town to do her shopping, excited beyond belief about what was waiting for her at the antiquarian book shop off the Broad. She’d been paying for it for months, and now, finally, it was hers. Briefly. Then, within a matter of weeks, it would be Ellen’s. She couldn’t wait, and realised as she pedalled up towards St Giles that there’d been a sneaky role reversal in her house: Ellen was too cool for Christmas now. It was Maggie who was the little girl.
Aah, who gives a stuff, she thought, as she navigated the slippery roads, keeping a careful look out for the bumbling backpacked tourists who wandered in front of her like blind sheep, and the few students who were still around.
