A WEDDING IN DECEMBER
Author: Sarah Morgan
ISBN: 9781335147271
Publication Date: 9/24/2019
Publisher: HQN Books
Book Summary:
This funny, charming and heartwarming new Christmas
novel is USA TODAY bestselling
author Sarah Morgan at her festive best!
Rosie’s older sister, Katie, is also dreading the wedding. Worried that impulsive, sweet-hearted Rosie is making a mistake, Katie is determined to save her sister from herself! If only the irritatingly good-looking best man, Jordan, would stop interfering with her plans…
Bride-to-be Rosie loves her fiancé but is having serious second thoughts. Except everyone has arrived—how can she tell them she’s not sure? As the big day gets closer, and emotions run even higher, this is one White family Christmas none of them will ever forget!
Buy Links:
Excerpt:
From
Chapter One
Maggie
When her phone rang at three in the morning,
ripping her from a desperately needed sleep, Maggie’s first thought was bad
news.
Her mind raced through the possibilities,
starting with the worst-case scenario. Death, or at least life-changing injury.
Police. Ambulances.
Heart pounding, brain foggy, she grabbed her
phone from the summit of her teetering pile of books. The name on the screen
offered no reassurance.
Trouble stalked her youngest daughter.
“Rosie?” She fumbled for the light and sat up.
The book she’d fallen asleep reading thudded to the floor, scattering the pile
of Christmas cards she’d started to write the night before. She’d chosen a
winter scene of snow-laden trees. They hadn’t had a flake of snow in the
village on Christmas Day for close to a decade. They often joked that it was a
good thing their last name was White because it was the only way they were ever
going to have a White Christmas.
She snuggled under the blanket with the phone.
“Has something happened?” The physical distance between her and Rosie made her
feel frustrated and helpless.
Everyone said global travel made the world
smaller, but it didn’t seem smaller to Maggie. Why couldn’t her daughter have
continued her studies closer to home? Oxford, with its famous spires and
ancient colleges, was only a few miles away. Rosie had done her undergraduate
degree there, followed by a master’s. Maggie had loved having her close by.
They’d taken sunlit strolls along cobbled streets, past ancient honey-colored buildings
and through Christchurch Meadows, golden with daffodils. They’d followed the
slow meander of the river and cheered on the rowing crews. Maggie had hoped,
privately, that her daughter might stay close by, but after Rosie had graduated
she’d been offered a place in a US doctoral program, complete with full
funding.
Can you believe it, Mum? The day she’d had the news she’d danced across
the living room, hair flying around her face, twirling until she was dizzy and
Maggie was dizzy watching her. Are you proud of me?
Maggie had been proud and dismayed in equal
measure, although she’d hidden the dismayed part of course. That was what you
did when you were a parent.
Even she could see it was too good an
opportunity to turn down, but still a small part of her had wished Rosie had
turned it down. That transatlantic flight from the nest left Maggie with
email, Skype and social media, none of which felt entirely satisfactory. Even
less so in the middle of the night. Had Rosie only been gone for four months? It
felt like a lifetime since they’d delivered her to the airport on that
sweltering summer’s day.
“Is it your asthma? Are you in hospital?” What
could she do if Rosie was in the hospital? Nothing. Anxiety was a
constant companion, never more so than now.
If it had been her eldest daughter, Katie, who
had moved to a different country she might have felt more relaxed. Katie was
reliable and sensible, but Rosie? Rosie had always been impulsive and
adventurous.
“I’m not in hospital. Don’t fuss!”
Only now did Maggie hear the noise in the
background. Cheering, whooping.
“Do you have your inhaler with you? You sound
breathless.” The sound woke the memories. Rosie, eyes bulging, lips stained
blue. The whistling sound as air struggled to squeeze through narrowed airways.
Maggie making emergency calls with hands that shook almost too hard to hold the
phone, the terror raw and brutal although she kept that hidden from her child.
Calm, she’d learned, was important even if it was faked.
Even when Rosie had moved from child to adult
there had been no reprieve.
Some children grew out of asthma. Not Rosie.
There had been a couple of occasions when
Rosie was in college when she’d gone to parties without her inhaler. A few
hours of dancing later and she’d been rushed to the emergency department. That
had been a 3:00 a.m. phone call, too, and Maggie had raced through the night to
be by her side. Those were the episodes Maggie knew about. She was sure there
were plenty more that Rosie had kept to herself.
“I’m breathless because I’m excited. I’m
twenty-two, Mum. When are you going to stop worrying?”
“That would be never. Your child is always
your child, no matter how many candles are on the birthday cake. Where are
you?”
“I’m with Dan’s family in Aspen for
Thanksgiving, and I have news.” She broke off and Maggie heard the clink of
glasses and Rosie’s infectious laugh. It was impossible to hear that laugh and
not want to smile, too. The sound contrasted with the silence of Maggie’s
bedroom.
A
waft of cold air chilled her skin and she stood up and grabbed her robe from
the back of the chair. Honeysuckle Cottage looked idyllic from the outside,
but it was impossibly drafty. The ventilation was a relief in August but froze
you to the bone in November. She really needed to do something about the insulation
before she even thought about selling the place. Historic charm, climbing roses
and a view of the village green couldn’t compensate for frostbite.
Or maybe it wasn’t the house that was cold.
Maybe it was her.
Knocked flat by a wave of sadness and she
struggled to right herself.
“What’s happening? What news? It sounds like
you’re having a party.”
“Dan proposed. Literally out of the
blue. We were taking it in turns to say what we’re thankful for and when it was
his turn he gave me a funny look and then he got down on one knee and—Mum,
we’re getting married.”
Maggie sat down hard on the edge of the bed,
the freezing air forgotten. “Married? But you and Dan have only been together
for a few weeks—”
“Eleven weeks, four days, six hours and
fifteen minutes—oh wait, now it’s sixteen, I mean seventeen—” She was laughing,
and Maggie tried to laugh with her.
How should she handle this? “That’s not very
long, sweetheart.” But completely in character for Rosie, who bounced from one
impulse to another, powered by enthusiasm.
“It feels so right, I can’t even tell you. And
you’ll understand because it was like that for you and Dad.”
Maggie stared at the damp patch on the wall.
Tell her the truth.
Her mouth moved but she couldn’t push the
words out. This was the wrong time. She should have done it months ago, but
she’d been too much of a coward.
And now it was too late. She didn’t want to be
the slayer of happy moments.
She
couldn’t even say you’re too young, because she’d been the same age when
she’d had Katie. Which basically made her a hypocrite. Or did it make her
someone with experience?
“You just started your postgrad—”
“I’m not giving it up. I can be married and
study. Plenty do it.”
Maggie couldn’t argue with that. “I’m happy
for you.” Did she sound happy? She tried harder. “Woohoo!”
She’d thought she’d white-knuckled her way
through all the toughest parts of parenting, but it turned out there were still
some surprises waiting for her. Rosie wasn’t a child anymore. She had to be
allowed to make her own decisions. And her own mistakes.
Rosie was talking again. “I know it’s all a
bit fast, but you’re going to love Dan as much as I do. You said you thought he
was great when you spoke to him.”
But speaking to someone on a video call wasn’t
the same as meeting them in person, was it?
Maggie swallowed down all the words of warning
that rose up inside her. She was not going to turn into her own mother
and send clouds to darken every bright moment. “He seemed charming, and I’m
thrilled for you. If I don’t sound it, it’s because it’s the middle of the
night here, and you know what I’m like when I’ve just woken up. When I saw your
name pop up on the screen, I was worried it was your asthma.”
“Haven’t had an attack in ages. I’m sorry I
woke you, but I wanted to share my news.”
“I’m glad you woke me. Tell me everything.”
She closed her eyes and tried to pretend her daughter was in the room with her,
and not thousands of miles away.
There was no reason to panic. It was an
engagement, that was all. There was plenty of time for them to decide if this
was the right thing for them. “We’ll have a big celebration when you and your
sister are here for Christmas. Would Dan like to join us? I can’t wait to meet
him. Maybe we’ll throw a party. Invite the Baxters, and all your friends from
college and school.” Planning lifted Maggie’s mood. Christmas was her favorite
time of year, the one occasion the whole family gathered together. Even Katie,
with her busy life as a doctor, usually managed to beg and barter a few days at
Christmas in exchange for covering the busy New Year shift. Maggie was looking
forward to spending time with her. She had a niggling suspicion her eldest
daughter was avoiding her. Every time Maggie suggested meeting up, Katie made
an excuse, which was unlike her because she rarely refused a free lunch.
Christmas would give her a chance to dig a
little deeper.
In her opinion, Oxford was the perfect place
to spend the festive season. True, there was unlikely to be snow, but what was
better than a postlunch walk listening to the peal of bells on a crisp, cold
winter’s day?
It promised to be perfect, apart from one
complication.
Nick.
Maggie still hadn’t figured out how she was
going to handle that side of things.
Maybe an engagement was exactly what they needed
to shift the focus of attention.
“Christmas is one of the things I need to talk
to you about.” Rosie sounded hesitant. “I planned to come home, but since Dan
proposed—well, we don’t see the point in waiting. We’ve chosen the day. We’re
getting married on Christmas Eve.”
Maggie frowned. “You mean next year?”
“No, this year.”
She counted the days and her brain almost
exploded. “You want to get married in less than four weeks? To a man you barely
know?” Rosie had always been impulsive, but this wasn’t a soft toy that would
be abandoned after a few days, or a dress that would turn out to be not quite
the right color. Marriage wasn’t something that could be rectified with a
refund. There was no reason for haste, unless—“Sweetie—”
“I know what you’re thinking, and it isn’t
that. I’m not pregnant! We’re getting married because we’re in love. I adore
him. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
You barely know him.
Maggie shifted, uncomfortably aware that
knowing someone well didn’t inoculate you against problems.
“I’m excited for you!” Turned out she could
fake excitement as convincingly as she could fake calm.
Excerpted from A Wedding
in December by Sarah Morgan. Copyright © 2019 by Sarah Morgan.
Published by HQN Books.
Author Bio:
USA Today
bestselling author Sarah Morgan writes hot, happy, contemporary romance and
women’s fiction, and her trademark humor and sensuality have gained her fans
across the globe. Described as “a magician with words” by RT Book Reviews, she
has sold more than eleven million copies of her books. She was nominated three
years in succession for the prestigious RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of
America and won the award three times: once in 2012 for Doukakis’s Apprentice,
in 2013 for A Night of No Return and in 2017 for Miracle on 5th
Avenue. She also won the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award in 2012 and has made
numerous appearances in their Top Pick slot. As a child, Sarah dreamed of being
a writer, and although she took a few interesting detours along the way, she is
now living that dream. Sarah lives near London, England, with her husband and
children, and when she isn’t reading or writing, she loves being outdoors,
preferably on vacation so she can forget the house needs tidying.
Social Links:
Twitter: @SarahMorgan_
Facebook: @AuthorSarahMorgan
Instagram: @SarahMorganWrites
No comments:
Post a Comment