Writing is mostly a solitary endeavor, but once the book is finished it becomes a team effort. So many books are published each week, and I am always grateful and excited to see my book on the shelves because I know it’s the result of the hard work and dedication of my publishing teams. Canary Street Press in the US and HQ Stories in the UK work hard to get the book into the hands of readers everywhere. I owe a debt of gratitude to every individual—if I listed them, this book would be too fat to fit on the shelves—but I’m particularly grateful to Michele Bidelspach, who edited this book and whose helpful insight helped shape the final version, and also to Margaret Marbury and Susan Swinwood for their ongoing support. Lisa Milton and Manpreet Grewal are a treat to work with, and I’m constantly in awe of their creativity and dedication. I know I’m lucky to work with such inspirational people.

I’m grateful to my agent Susan Ginsburg for all her wisdom and support, and also to Catherine Bradshaw and the rest of the brilliant team at Writers House.

I’m fortunate to have a wonderful family who have grown accustomed to the strange fictional world I inhabit and are endlessly supportive, and also to my writer (and nonwriter!) friends.

My biggest thanks goes to all the booksellers, bloggers and reviewers who support my writing and to the readers who send kind messages and continue to buy and post beautiful photographs of my books being read in various places around the world. (I often think that my books live a much more exciting life than I do.) I am lucky to have such a loyal, enthusiastic and kind bunch of readers.

Extract

Chapter 1Becky

Standing in the airport terminal surrounded by too much noise and too many stressed people, Becky decided that she didn’t love Christmas anywhere near as much as she’d always thought.

Usually she looked forward to it, but there was nothing usual about this particular year.

And now this.

She glanced at the departures board. Everything was red, and not a happy Santa red. Cancelled flight red. You’re-not-going-anywhere red.

‘Nothing?’ She gripped the counter. ‘Are you seriously telling me nothing is flying?’

‘That’s right. Everything is delayed or cancelled because of the snow. I’m sorry.’ The immaculate woman behind the airport check-in desk gave her a smile that was polite rather than warm.

Becky imagined it being part of the uniform policy. Knee length skirt, smooth hair, wide smile.