The Bookshop of Second Chances: A Novel (Libro en Inglés)

$ 462.00
ISBN: 9780593499467
por Dell
ISBN: 9780593499467
Editorial: Dell
Autor: Fraser, Jackie
Año de edición: 2022
N° Paginas: 464
Tipo de pasta: Pasta blanda
Descripción: Product DescriptionA woman desperate to turn a new page heads to the Scottish coast and finds herself locked in a battle of wills with an infuriatingly aloof bookseller in this utterly heartwarming debut, perfect for readers of Evvie Drake Starts Over.“Humor and charm abound. . . . [This] love story hits the spot.”—Publishers WeeklyThea Mottram is having a bad month. She’s been let go from her office job with no notice—and to make matters even worse, her husband of nearly twenty years has decided to leave her for one of her friends. Bewildered and completely lost, Thea doesn’t know what to do. But when she learns that a distant great uncle in Scotland has passed away, leaving her his home and a hefty antique book collection, she decides to leave Sussex for a few weeks. Escaping to a small coastal town where no one knows her seems to be exactly what she needs.Almost instantly, Thea becomes enamored with the quaint cottage, comforted by its cozy rooms and lovely but neglected garden. The locals in nearby Baldochrie are just as warm, quirky, and inviting. The only person she can’t seem to win over is bookshop owner Edward Maltravers, to whom she hopes to sell her uncle’s book collection. His gruff attitude—fueled by an infamous, long-standing feud with his brother, a local lord—tests Thea’s patience. But bickering with Edward proves oddly refreshing and exciting, leading Thea to develop feelings she hasn’t experienced in a long time. As she follows a thrilling yet terrifying impulse to stay in Scotland indefinitely, Thea realizes that her new life may quickly become just as complicated as the one she was running from.About the AuthorJackie Fraser is a freelance editor and writer. She's worked for AA Publishing, Watkins, the Good Food Guide, and various self-published writers of fiction, travel and food guides, and self-help books. She reads a lot (no, really), in multiple genres, and is fascinated by the Bronze Age. She likes vintage clothes, antique fairs, and photography. She likes cats.Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.OneYesterday was Valentine’s Day. Three weeks since I lost my job—made redundant and turned out of my office with no notice—and ten days since my husband, Chris, henceforth known as “that bastard,” left me. Or did I leave him? Maybe I did, since I’m the one who had to, you know, leave.I spent the day lying on the ugly uncomfortable sofa bed in my horrible new flat and cried ugly uncomfortable tears. And I drank a lot of gin. I watched Black Narcissus and Mary Poppins, randomly, and wept throughout both. Today I have a headache and it’s hard to say if it’s a hangover or a surfeit of emotion. My eyelids are swollen. I’m only dressed because Xanthe—best friend, confidante and primary support system—shouted at me when she rang earlier. We’re now sitting at the tiny table in the kitchen half of the flat, writing lists. Soon, in half an hour or an hour, we’ll go to my old house and pack up my things and that will be the next step on this god-awful “journey.”“Do you want me to go?” Xanthe asks. “I could do it for you. If you wanted.”It’s odd to see her so serious. She usually laughs all the time, endlessly amused by everything. Hard to find anything funny about this.“No, don’t be . . . You can’t, can you? You won’t know what everything is. I know I’ve got to do it.”“I’ll come with you, though.” She looks at me, clearly trying to judge whether I’m in any fit state to do this.“That would be . . . Yes. Thank you.”Crying all the time is so boring. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a broken heart and I’d forgotten how tediously dull it is. I blink at her and blow my nose for the billionth time. The original plan was to do this task yesterday, but I couldn’t see him on Valentine’s Day, could I?This time last year we went away. We stayed in a tiny cottage near Rye. Our eighteenth Valentine’s. We drank champagne and sat in front of an open fire and said things like, “Still her
  • Idioma: Inglés
  • Envío: Desde EE. UU.
  • Libro Impreso y Nuevo