Cover

About the Author

JAIMIE ADMANS is a 32-year-old English-sounding Welsh girl with an awkward-to-spell name. She lives in South Wales and enjoys writing, gardening, watching horror movies and drinking tea, although she’s seriously considering marrying her coffee machine. She loves autumn and winter, and singing songs from musicals despite the fact she’s got the voice of a dying hyena. She hates spiders, hot weather and cheese & onion crisps. She spends far too much time on Twitter and owns too many pairs of boots. She will never have time to read all the books she wants to read.

Also by Jaimie Admans

The Chateau of Happily-Ever-Afters

The Little Wedding Island

It’s a Wonderful Night

The Little Vintage Carousel by the Sea

Dedication

For my Little Bruiser Dog.

Thank you for making me smile every day for fifteen years.

I will miss you every day for the rest of my life.

Chapter 1

I am never drinking again.

Please tell me that pounding, throbbing sound is not coming from inside my own head. I peel one eye open and severely consider not bothering to open the other one.

I’m slumped on the living room floor and propped upright by the coffee table, with my face smooshed against the keyboard of my open laptop. My movement jogs the mouse and the dark screen comes back to life, and my eyes hurt at the sudden brightness. I wince and push myself away, instantly regretting it when my stomach rolls at the movement.

When I can bring myself to peer blearily at the screen, there are loads of new emails in my inbox – and most of the subject lines say ‘congratulations’. More spam, no doubt. ‘Congratulations, you’re the sole benefactor of a millionaire Nigerian prince, give us your bank details and we’ll pop a million dollars straight into your account. Totally legit, honest.’

There are three empty bottles of Prosecco beside me, and my phone is worryingly nearby. Why do I remember squealing ‘thank you, luffly robot voice, we’re moving to Scotland!’ into the phone at some unmentionable hour of the night? While sitting on the living room floor? With my computer? And my phone? I glance at the empty bottles again.