The Summer Festival Reading Collection: Revelry, Vanity, A Girl Called Summer, Party Nights, LA Nights, New York Nights, London Nights, Ibiza Nights
Summer is here - celebrate with three full novels and five short stories from Lucy Lord!Join Poppy, Bella and all their friends on an escapist romp through London, Ibiza and beyond in REVELRY, VANITY, A GIRL CALLED SUMMER and five short stories: PARTY NIGHT (a prequel to the trilogy) and four short stories that take place before A GIRL CALLED SUMMER: LA NIGHTS, NEW YORK NIGHTS, LONDON NIGHTS and IBIZA NIGHTS.
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SUMMER FESTIVAL READING COLLECTION
Revelry
Vanity
A Girl Called Summer
LA Nights (short story)
New York Nights (short story)
London Nights (short story)
Ibiza Nights (short story)
Lucy Lord
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
The News Building
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2016
Copyright © Lucy Lord 2012, 2013, 2014
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2016
Lucy Lord asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of 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, 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.
Source ISBN: 9780007441730; 9780007441754; 9780007441778; 9780007597505; 9780007597482; 9780007597529; 9780007597543
Ebook Edition © April 2016 ISBN: 9780008160203
Version: 2015-12-11
Contents
Copyright
About the Author
About the Publisher
LUCY LORD
Revelry
Copyright
Harper
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
Copyright © Lucy Lord 2012
Lucy Lord asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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 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.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Ebook Edition ISBN: 9780007441730
Version: 2015-12-11
To my husband, with love.
Contents
Last summer was meant to be perfect. Unbridled sunny hedonism with all my favourite people in Ibiza, Glastonbury and the rest of the latter-day Sodom and Gomorrah hotspots we creative, civilized people have colonized over the last few decades. How we were looking forward to indulging in excesses that Nero’s subjects might have considered over-the-top, smug in the knowledge that tiresome, bourgeois rules didn’t apply to professional free spirits like us. As I say, it was going to be perfect. But somehow, somewhere, something went wrong.
Chapter 1
Let’s start in Ibiza. It’s the beginning of June and we’ve hired a villa for a week to coincide with the Space and Pacha opening parties. A fairly loathsome thing to do, I’m sure you’ll agree, but some of my friends have started to think they’re so cool it hurts. The renovated finca is a typically Ibicenco whitewashed cuboid affair, with roof terrace, tropical gardens kept verdant with horribly eco-unfriendly sprinklers and a big floodlit pool. Divided by ten, it wouldn’t have been too pricey were it not for the dreaded strong euro. But hey – that’s what credit cards are for.
In varying states of undress, sobriety and attractiveness, my fellow revellers lounge around the pool. To my right, talking nineteen to the dozen, feet dangling in the water, is my oldest and dearest friend Poppy. We were new girls at school together and bonded at the age of ten over a shared love of Frazzles and Enid Blyton. The rest of the class thought we were weird.
Tiny, with long, straight, honey-blonde hair (dyed, but not obviously) and smooth golden skin, Poppy’s the sort of girl you could easily hate if you didn’t already know and love her. After getting a first in History from Oxford, she travelled round the world on her own, bribing bent Colombian border guards, replanting rainforests in Borneo and volunteering in a Zimbabwean lion sanctuary. She’s now doing very nicely thank you in TV production. Her apparent fragility belies enormous resources of stamina. How she manages to combine outrageous partying with her high-flying job is anybody’s guess.
