The Wedding that Changed Everything: a gorgeously uplifting romantic comedy
‘A charming and delightful read!’ Pretty Little Book Reviews on The Little Bed & Breakfast by the SeaLove happens when you least expect it…Emily Atkinson stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago! She’s fed up of dating frogs in order to find her very own Prince Charming and is giving up on men entirely…But then she’s invited to the wedding of the year at the enchanting Durban Castle and realises that perhaps bumping into a real-life knight in shining armour isn’t quite as far away as she thought!Will Emily survive the wedding and walk away an unscathed singleton – or finally find her own happily-ever-after?A cosy and charming romance, perfect for fans of Trisha Ashley and Caroline Roberts.Readers love Joyce:“a perfect holiday read”“a great escape into a romantic and funny world”“Didn't want to put it down”“A book like this, lifts up the weary heart, brings a smile, and is easy to read and love.”“This story made me laugh, swoon and dream.”“Infused with charm and humour”“Hugely entertaining”
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Love happens when you least expect it!
Emily Atkinson stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago! She’s fed up of dating frogs in order to track down her very own Prince Charming, despite the best efforts of her matchmaking best friend…
But now she’s been invited to the wedding of the year at the enchanting Durban Castle, and perhaps bumping into a knight in shining armour isn’t as far away as she thought!
Will Emily survive the wedding and walk away an unscathed singleton – or finally find her own happily ever after?
A cosy and charming romance, perfect for fans of Trisha Ashley and Caroline Roberts.
The Little Teashop of Broken Hearts
The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea
The Wedding Date
The Mince Pie Mix-Up
The Wedding that Changed Everything
Jennifer Joyce
ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES
Contents
JENNIFER JOYCE
is a writer of romantic comedies. She’s been scribbling down bits of stories for as long as she can remember, graduating from a pen to a typewriter and then an electronic typewriter. And she felt like the bee’s knees typing on that. She now writes her books on a laptop (which has a proper delete button and everything). Jennifer lives in Oldham, Greater Manchester, with her husband Chris and their two daughters, Rianne and Isobel, plus their bunny, Cinnamon and Jack Russell, Luna. When she isn’t writing, Jennifer likes to make things – she’ll use any excuse to get her craft box out! She spends far too much time on Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram.
You can find out more about Jennifer on her blog at jenniferjoycewrites.co.uk, on Twitter at @writer_jenn and on Facebook at facebook.com/jenniferjoycewrites
For my Joyces,
Chris, Rianne and Isobel
I’m going to have to dump him, which is a shame as he’s a good-looking guy (not that looks should matter, but there’s no denying the bloke is pretty damn hot). His dark hair is styled (but not overly so), he has the perfect amount of stubble, and deep, expressive eyes beneath defined brows, and – his best asset, in my opinion – a wide, readily available smile. He has good teeth, his fingernails are neatly trimmed, and he always smells divine. He has good manners too. He’s attentive and interesting and never monopolises our conversations. And, most impressive of all, when we spoke about our work (I’m a history teacher at the local secondary school) and he asked about my favourite time period, he didn’t gloss over as I gushed about my passion for all things Tudor. He is, on the surface, the perfect package.
But he has to go, I’m afraid.
‘It’s too soon, isn’t it?’ he asks as I sit staring at him from across the table, my fork suspended between plate and (gaping) mouth. I haven’t said a word since he suggested I meet his parents next weekend, but I manage to pull myself together, snapping my cavernous mouth shut and pushing my lips into what I hope resembles a smile and not the grimace I’m feeling deep inside.
‘No. Of course it isn’t too soon.’
I’m lying. It’s way too soon. This is our third date, for goodness’ sake! I’ve had a longer, more fulfilling relationship with the half-packet of Polos in my handbag. I don’t know him well enough to meet his parents; I don’t know whether he prefers salt and vinegar crisps or cheese and onion, which supermarket he frequents, how many sugars he takes in his tea or coffee (see, I don’t even know his preference of hot beverage!) or how he feels about Brexit. We haven’t even slept together yet! Now, call me crazy, but I’d quite like to know what he’s like in the sack before we start doing full-on couple stuff.
‘So?’ He looks at me with those gorgeous eyes, eyebrows lifted, fingertips meeting above his plate as though half in prayer. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s… an idea.’
A stupid idea. Ludicrous. Who meets the parents of somebody they’ve been on three measly dates with? We won’t make it to a fourth, that’s for sure. I’d probably find an engagement ring floating in my Chardonnay considering the speed this bloke works at.
‘Great!’ If he senses my discomfort, he doesn’t show it as he flashes his wide smile. ‘What do you want to do?’
Go home? Curl up on the sofa with Carrot (my cat, not a root vegetable) and pretend this date never happened?
‘We could go for a hike?’ he suggests when I don’t respond. My fork is still frozen in the air, the speared stuffed mushroom no longer appetising. ‘We could take a picnic or stop off for a pub lunch? Do you own a pair of hiking boots? We can pick some up on the way if you don’t.’
