Jaimie Admans - The Little Bookshop of Love Stories

JAIMIE ADMANSis a 35-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 and 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.

Jaimie loves to hear from readers. You can visit her website at jaimieadmans.com or connect on Twitter @be_the_spark.

The Chateau of Happily-Ever-Afters

The Little Wedding Island

It’s a Wonderful Night

The Little Vintage Carousel by the Sea

Snowflakes at the Little Christmas Tree Farm

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2020

Copyright © Jaimie Admans

Jaimie Admans asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © May 2020 ISBN: 9780008331221

Version: 2020-04-16

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author About the Author About the Author Also by Jaimie Admans Title Page Copyright Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Acknowledgements Extract Dear Reader … Keep Reading … About the Publisher JAIMIE ADMANS is a 35-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 and 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. Jaimie loves to hear from readers. You can visit her website at jaimieadmans.com or connect on Twitter @be_the_spark.

Also by Jaimie Admans Also by Jaimie Admans Also by Jaimie Admans Title Page Copyright Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Acknowledgements Extract Dear Reader … Keep Reading … About the Publisher The Chateau of Happily-Ever-Afters The Little Wedding Island It’s a Wonderful Night The Little Vintage Carousel by the Sea Snowflakes at the Little Christmas Tree Farm

Title Page The Little Bookshop of Love Stories JAIMIE ADMANS

Copyright HQ An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2020 Copyright © Jaimie Admans Jaimie Admans asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. E-book Edition © May 2020 ISBN: 9780008331221 Version: 2020-04-16

Dedication For readers everywhere. Aren’t books magical?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Acknowledgements

Extract

Dear Reader …

Keep Reading …

About the Publisher

For readers everywhere.

Aren’t books magical?

It is a truth universally acknowledged that today is the Mondayest Monday ever.

I’ve been fired. Again.

I trudge home through the afternoon drizzle that’s so well timed it’s like it waited for me to leave work. I’d left my umbrella behind and was in such disgrace that I wasn’t bold enough to go back in and get it. My boss was one angry step away from fire spurting out of his ears. I think the sight of me again would’ve tipped him over the edge.

The job had been going well too. I’d been there almost a year, and apart from a few warnings about my clumsiness and the odd wage deduction for breakages, being a waitress at a dog-friendly pub within walking distance of my flat wasn’t too bad.

That was before this afternoon.

A family out for a walk had come in for an afternoon meal, and as I carried the tray of desserts to their table, the little boy dropped his monkey directly into my path. I stumbled over the plastic toy, instantly decapitating it with my shoe, and the tray slipped in my hands, and like a moment from a cartoon where an unseen crowd in the background do a slow-motion gasp of horror, the child’s ice-cream sundae flipped over, doing such an impressive mid-air somersault that if gymnastics judges had been watching, it would’ve scored a perfect ten. The ice-cream bowl was deposited upside down on the head of its chosen victim like some missile-based hat.