YES!!!! Now that I have featured a Christmas themed book I can officially put my tree up right????
Woo hoo!!! While I’m dusting it off and finding the decorations, here’s the blurb …
Flora Phillips has an excuse for every disaster in her life; she was abandoned as a new-born on a doorstep one cold autumn night, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Her philosophy is simple: if your mother doesn’t want you – who will?
Now a thirty-year-old, without a boyfriend, a career or home she figures she might as well tackle the biggest question of them all – who is she? So, whilst everyone else enjoys their Christmas Eve traditions, Flora escapes the masses and drives to the village of Pooley to seek a specific doorstep. Her doorstep.
But in Pooley she finds more than her life story. She finds friends, laughter, and perhaps even a love to last a lifetime. Because once you know where you come from, it’s so much easier to know where you’re going.
A story of redemption and love, romance and Christmas dreams-come-true, the perfect novel to snuggle up with this festive season.
I slurp my tea as a distraction but am instantly reminded that it’s too hot to drink so return the flimsy cup to the table.
I begin to pick at my left thumb nail.
‘Miss Phillips?’ urges the male officer.
I avoid his stare by focusing upon my thumb nail.
These guys are probably minutes away from throwing me back into the cold cell and ordering my cooked breakfast and a mug of tea for the morning.
‘Has my car been locked?’ I ask, distracted by a sudden flashback.
‘Officers have secured your vehicle. It was illegally parked on double yellow lines so an officer has moved it to the free parking area opposite the church – no worries there.’
I nod my appreciation, looking from beneath my lowered brow.
‘Miss Phillips, we’re waiting.’ His voice is becoming stern; a pulse below his left eye begins to dance.
My throat constricts. If I begin to explain I’ll open a can of worms, it’ll all come pouring out and then what?
‘Miss Phillips, are you prepared to co-operate?’ asks the female officer.
‘You’ve assaulted a police officer, I’m not going to accept a shrug of the shoulders as an answer, now am I?’ he says glancing at the solicitor, who continues to write.
He’s right, fact was fact. Officer Stubble-chin had slapped the cuffs on me, bundled me into the rear of the patrol car and driven at high speed towards the police station. His patrol buddy Officer Excuse-Me-Madam had spent the entire journey doubled over in the front seat clutching his face and groaning.
Why hadn’t I stayed with Lisa and Steph at the Pink Coconut? By now I would be plastered on Pinot Grigio, eating marmite on toast in Lisa’s kitchen while Steph pukes noisily in the tiny downstairs cloakroom. Instead I had the big idea to follow my gut reaction and go find myself. Correction, it wasn’t that definitive – it was simply a case of flee and think later.
‘Has he gone to hospital?’ I ask sheepishly.
Both officers nod.
I need to come clean, tell the truth and face the consequences.
‘Firstly, I never meant to break his nose. I’m not a violent or angry person but he kept mentioning alcohol. I haven’t touched a drop all night. I’d dropped something, we were both looking and then… banged heads. Honestly, I never meant to hurt him.’
‘OK… he’ll make his statement once he returns from the hospital then we’ll compare details.’
‘Did he hand anything in?’ I ask, desperate to locate my treasured clipping.
They both shake their heads.
‘Why here? Tonight?’ he asks.
I hesitate. My shoulders droop beneath the warm blanket.
Here we go.
‘You’re on a roll, don’t stop now,’ he urges, clearly bored with spending the early hours of Christmas Day in my presence.
‘Tonight’s visit was a spur of the moment thing. I was supposed to go dancing with my best friends but… I couldn’t face another Christmas Eve Extravaganza party,’ I say.
Arghhh, the thought of compulsory drinking purely to fit in with the crowd, forced to have a good time, endure the crammed dance floor, the crush at the bar… the queue for the ladies, strangers spilling their drinks down my new dress… the unwanted attention from drunken guys – all letching and leering over your boobs in the hope of a Christmas shag.
‘We’d bought tickets but still we had to queue to enter, I ducked out at the last minute and drove here…’ I continue in a whisper, as my voice cracks, ‘where my mother abandoned me.’
Officer Stubble-chin leans across the desk, his hazel eyes scrutinizing my features before he speaks.
‘Say that again?’
‘I was abandoned… on a door step.’
A comedy double-take glance occurs between the two officers.
‘You’re Baby Bede?’ he asks.
‘I’m not sure what I’m called… but I was definitely left on that doorstep.’
‘Back in the Eighties?’ interrupts the female, an energy lifting into her bland expression. ‘Everyone around these parts knows about you.’
OH MY DAYS IF THIS DOESN’T MAKE YOU WANNA BUY THIS BOOK I DON’T KNOW WHAT WILL!!!!!
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2q8mymL
Keep up with the rest of the tour …
About the author …
Erin was born and raised in Warwickshire, where she resides with her husband. She writes contemporary novels focusing on love, life and laughter. An ideal day for Erin involves writing, people watching and copious amounts of tea. Erin was delighted to be awarded The Katie Fforde Bursary in 2017 and previously, Love Stories ‘New Talent Award’ in 2015.