United in grief. Pushed apart by tragedy.
Keeley Andrews knows more than anyone that you only live once. So when she receives an invitation to spend two weeks in Paris, all expenses paid, she jumps at the chance.
Ethan Bouchard has had the worst eighteen months of his life. He’s ready to give up on everything, including his hotel chain. So when he meets Keeley, it simply isn’t the right time.
As Keeley and Ethan continue to bump into each other on the romantic Parisian streets, they can’t help but wonder whether this is fate telling them to let go of the past and leap into the future…
Mandy and Aria have shared an extract today so grab that drink, a comfortable chair and chocolate. You could even sneak a couple of Christmas songs and enjoy.
***** beginning of extract *****
‘Duncan, not that awful disco ball of your mother’s again! Please, I beg of you. Last year it gave Lydia Mumford some sort of aura migraine before I’d even served the Waitrose arancini,’ Lizzie Andrews said, raising her eyes and glaring at her husband who was stood precariously at the top of a stepladder. He was about to fix the large revolving silver sphere to a hook above the kitchen island where, on the hob, something containing cranberries was simmering.
Twenty-six-year-old Keeley hid her face in her mug of super-hot, extra-strong coffee and tried to stop a laugh from escaping her lips. Her parents’ conversation over her long-since-passed-away gran’s festive regalia had been treading the same path since the decorations had been left to them in the will. Her mum had always insisted it was because the old lady never liked her.
Joan loathed me. Loathed me, Duncan. Right from the get-go. Ever since the first time I came to your house with peonies for her and she shoved them in an empty tin of Heinz beans as a vase. That was when the die was cast.
But Keeley liked the decorations. None of them matched together – there were vibrant purples and emerald-greens alongside 1980s-style robots swinging on bunting and Chinese paper lanterns that probably should have caught alight long ago. At first glance, they might not seem to correlate, but somehow they worked. Her sister, Bea, had loved them too. Bea would always be fighting their dad for use of the ladder, having somehow actually worked out complicated things about balance, or the optimum angle to enable the globe to spin in a completely symmetrical way that would please Lizzie’s need for order. Bea had always plunged into things with full-on gusto but never without the knowhow to back it up.
Thoughts of her little sister made Keeley’s heart squeeze and she took another sip of the coffee before the toaster popped with the crumpet she was cooking.
Lizzie shook her brown curly hair and sniffed, nose in the air like a prized perfumier. She dropped the pinecones she was painting to the newspaper-covered work surface. ‘What’s that smell?’
‘Is that one of those giant crumpets I bought yesterday?’ Duncan asked, grinning down from the ladder, both hands still holding the whole giant reflective world in his hands.
‘Yes, it is,’ Keeley replied, trying to wiggle the large crumpet out of the sleeve of the toaster. She had got it in without too much effort, but now it seemed it was impossible to remove.
‘Keeley!’ Lizzie exclaimed in horror. ‘A giant crumpet!’
‘Would you like one, Mum?’ Keeley asked. The crumpet still wasn’t moving and with every pull she was shaving the outer crust away from the body of it. It wasn’t going to stay ‘giant’ for long if it kept this up.
‘What you putting on it, Keeley?’ Duncan asked, tongue sticking out of his mouth, eyes concentrating hard on the hook on the ceiling. ‘Bit of peanut butter? Or… how about that wild blueberry jam? That’s nice, that is.’
‘Duncan!’ Lizzie said. ‘That wild blueberry jam was meant for the scones for the advent afternoon tea with the Forresters! I can’t believe you’ve opened it!’
‘Sorry,’ Duncan answered. ‘Perhaps you should stick labels on things you don’t want opened by the mere mortals of your family.’
‘Well,’ Lizzie continued, still sounding exasperated, ‘it should be obvious that it isn’t for you. When have I ever bought wild blueberry jam for you?!’
‘A change is as good as a rest though, so they say,’ Duncan replied. ‘I thought it might have been one of your “new opportunities” like the yoga and the… Crap Gaga.’
Keeley really couldn’t stop the laugh this time as she opened the drawer for a fork. Her fingertips were not going to move this sucker, so it was time for reinforcements. ‘It’s Krav Maga, Dad.’
‘He knows!’ Lizzie said, taking her glasses off and putting fingers to the bridge of her nose like she was getting a headache. ‘I’ve invited him to join me,’ she carried on. ‘Except he’d rather spend his time playing darts than doing something that’s classed as real cardiovascular exercise.’
***** end of extract *****
About Mandy Baggott…
Mandy Baggot is an international bestselling and award-winning romance writer. The winner of the Innovation in Romantic Fiction award at the UK’s Festival of Romance, her romantic comedy novel, One Wish in Manhattan, was also shortlisted for the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romantic Comedy Novel of the Year award in 2016.
Mandy’s books have so far been translated into German, Italian, Czech and Hungarian. Mandy loves the Greek island of Corfu, white wine, country music and handbags.
Also a singer, she has taken part in ITV1’s Who Dares Sings and The X-Factor. Mandy is a member of the Society of Authors and lives near Salisbury, Wiltshire, UK with her husband and two daughters.
A Perfect Paris Christmas was released by Aria on 3rd September 2020. Click to view on Amazon UK, Kobo, Google Play and iBooks. You can also follow Aria on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram or via their website.