Blurb:
Longing to get away from her troubled marriage, the opportunity to cross America by train seems like a dream come true for Vita Craythorne. But charismatic travel agent Moriarty Miles has other ideas; by replacing her friend Jack on the trip, Vita has unwittingly set herself up as a guinea pig for Moriarty's mind-blowing and potentially dangerous new virtual-holiday project. His idea is to give clients the holiday of a lifetime without ever having to leave the comfort of their favourite chair. It's exciting. It's innovative. It could be just what Vita needs. That is, if she can avoid becoming trapped inside her own, miraculous dream world.
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EXCERPT
My
shoulders drooped. Ronan was getting to the point where he could pick on
anything I said and turn it into a huge issue. I’d need to be careful starting
him off so early in the morning. He usually saved this sort of bickering for
later. His face was thunderous now but I couldn’t resist biting back.
‘The easy option – home to the only woman who
thinks you can do no wrong? But you’re right, London always suited you better
than anywhere. Or so you said.’
‘Well it’s fine talking the talk, but you’d never come with me if I moved,
would you? Just look at you, Vita. Pathetic. Listening to people whining about
their stupid sex problems all day. You’ll be thirty-three soon and what have
you ever done with your life? At least I’m thinking ahead.’
I
gasped as he spat out the vicious words. I hadn’t realised he was so
disillusioned with our life here. My husband, the writer. Hadn’t he seemed to
be Clayton’s answer to Dylan Thomas, without the Welsh accent? And did he
really despise me so much? In my heart of hearts, I’d known for a while that
Ronan didn’t love me the way he used to, but I’d thought we still had some sort
of partnership going. My stomach began to churn – he was going to make me later
than ever but nobody should be allowed to get away with that sort of comment.
‘How can you say that, Ronan? I’m NOT
pathetic. My job’s important – I HELP people. And you haven’t got anything much
to leave, have you? What’s the point of a will?’
He turned sideways and admired himself in
the wardrobe mirror, pulling in his ribcage with a huge effort and finally
persuading his trouser button to do up. ‘I have
got a legacy, actually, and you’re looking at it right now,’ he said, squaring
his shoulders and baring his teeth at his reflection. He opened the wardrobe
door slightly, angling it so that he could see his back view in the dressing
table mirror.
‘What on earth are you talking about?’
Ronan didn’t answer. Did he have no idea how much he’d just hurt me? Obviously
not – he was admiring his bottom, clenching his buttocks as he adjusted what he
liked to call his tackle.
Ronan? What legacy?’
He bared his teeth and spoke to his
reflection in the mirror. ‘“What legacy?” she asks. This body? This hunk of
prime man flesh?’ he said. ‘I’m leaving it to be experimented on. There was a
programme about it on TV the other night. They’re crying out for men like me,
apparently.’
AUTHOR BIO
Celia J
Anderson is passionate about writing, cake, wine and long walks in the Quantock
hills or on random beaches. She is very proud to be the assistant head at a
Catholic primary school in the Midlands and divides her time between walking
off the cake, inventing imaginary worlds and teaching English and drama.
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Sounds fab :)
ReplyDeletelooks like a great book!
ReplyDeleteI like the sound of this.
ReplyDelete