KATLYN DUNCAN grew up in a small town in Massachusetts with her head always in the clouds. Working as a scientist for most of her adult life, she enjoyed breaking down the hows and whys of life. This translated into her love of stories and getting into the minds of her characters. Currently, she has published twelve books with HQ Digital and has ghostwritten over forty novels.
When she’s not writing, she’s obsessing over many (many) television series. She currently resides in Connecticut with her husband, kiddo, and adorable senior citizen dog (who will forever be a puppy at heart!).
‘Perfect read … I couldn’t put it down’
‘I will definitely be reading more from this author again.’
‘Engaging and thought provoking.’
‘I was completely glued from page one and didn’t want to put it down.’
‘Gripping. Thrilling. On the edge of your seat exciting. I absolutely loved it.’
‘This story kept me guessing.’
‘Perfect for someone who wants a quick read that’s also gripping’
‘A thoroughly heart-warming and enjoyable read’
‘Gripping, funny and emotional’
‘A delightful read’
The Life After Trilogy: Soul Taken
The Life After Trilogy: Soul Possessed
The Life After Trilogy: Soul Betrayed
This Summer
This Christmas
Darkest Dawn
As You Lay Sleeping
Six Little Secrets
The Sisters’ Secrets: Rose
The Sisters’ Secrets: Reen
The Sisters’ Secrets: Pearl
Wrapped Up for Christmas
KATLYN DUNCAN
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019
Copyright © Katlyn Duncan 2019
Katlyn Duncan 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 © October 2019 ISBN: 9780008364892
Version: 2019-08-26
For anyone who can get the Christmas feels no matter what time of year or how hot it is outside. This book is for you.
The Christmas song blaring from the pocket of the man in front of Angie was the last straw. He turned off the ringer of his phone, but that was it for her. She hadn’t even reached the end of the jet bridge before heat surged behind her eyes for the dozenth time that afternoon.
Don’t you dare cry, Angie Martinelli.
At least not until she’d buried herself under the covers in the room she hadn’t slept in since high school.
A day ago, she had lain in her queen-sized bed with eight hundred thread count sheets. When she wasn’t in her apartment, she was in Brett’s California king, treating it like a twin. She recalled the firmness of his body, snuggling up against him—
‘No,’ she hissed, startling the family of four next to her. The parents tucked their children closer to them, away from the crazy woman talking to herself. ‘Sorry.’
The mother grabbed onto her daughter’s backpack and steered her into the airport.
Angie tried to take a calming breath, wanting to push Brett and his cheating self to the farthest reaches of her mind. She gripped her rolling carry-on bag and adjusted her handbag on her shoulder.
With her belongings accounted for, she swiped away a stray tear threatening to fall and dipped her chin against her chest as she made her way through the waiting area toward baggage claim. Angie was determined to keep everyone out of her business – even strangers. She was adamant that they weren’t going to see the tortured expression she wore on her face. As an only child, she prided herself on being a strong and independent woman.
Or at least, she used to.
Once she reached the food court, the scent of greasy cuisine filled her nose. Her stomach ached for something to eat; she had waited too long on the flight to get one of the prepared meals and they were sold out. Nothing on the plane went her way. She sat behind someone who reclined their chair the entire time and the three complimentary bags of chips did nothing to ease her emotions as her mind and stomach churned across the country.