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‘I look forward to reading this author’s next release … and her next … and her next. It truly is a stunning debut, with characters that will remain in your thoughts long after you have closed the book.’ —pinkheartsocietyreviews.blogspot.com on Always the Bridesmaid ‘Rich with emotion, and pairing two truly special characters, this beautiful story is simply unforgettable. A keeper.’ —RT Book Reviews on Hired: Sassy Assistant ‘A well-constructed plot and a scrumptious, larger-than-life hero combined with generous amounts of humour and pathos make for an excellent read.’ —RT Book Reviews on Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds NINA grew up in rural Northumberland, England, and decided at the age of eleven that she was going to be a librarian—because then she could read all of the books in the public library whenever she wanted! Since then she has been a shop assistant, community pharmacist, technical writer, university lecturer, volcano walker and industrial scientist, before taking a career break to realise her dream of being a fiction writer. When she is not creating stories which make her readers smile, her hobbies are cooking, eating, enjoying good wine—and talking, for which she has had specialist training.
Truth-Or-Date.com
Nina Harrington Table of Contents From: Andromeda@ConstellationOfficeServices To: saffie@saffronthechef Subject: Our least favourite school friend and online dating Hey Saffie. I know, I know. I should have listened when you tried to warn me against working part-time for Elise van der Kamp in the first place. Do you remember when Elise signed up with that expensive Internet dating agency for young executives? Well, now she has decided she is too busy to write her own emails and that I should do it for her. Write a few emails, she said. Then a few more. Just to get the ball rolling. After all, what else are personal assistants for? Right. I almost told her what to do with her job, but then she offered me a special bonus, which should be enough to pay for that professional illustrator’s course I’ve been yearning to go on. It would be perfect. And just what I need to be taken seriously as an artist. Not much has changed from school, has it? Elise knew I couldn’t turn it down. So guess who has been wooing potential Christmas party arm candy for our least favourite school friend every evening for the past week? Oh, yes. Well, things have just sunk to a new low. Ten minutes ago she texted me to say that she has to dash off to Brazil on some urgent business and—wait for it—she has changed her mind about the whole online dating thing. Apparently it is far too sordid and risky and she doesn’t want her reputation sullied by that kind of thing. Sullied! Can you believe it? I don’t think she even read one of the emails I sent or the lovely replies I got back from the boys who had rearranged their schedules to meet her for coffee this week. The real problem is that the first coffee date is tonight. As in half an hour from now, and it is far too late to cancel. This one’s username is #sportybloke and he sounds really nice over the Internet. I can’t stand the idea of the poor man sitting there all alone waiting for #citygirl Elise to show. I know what it’s like to be stood up and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. And I do feel sort of responsible. Do you think I should go and meet him? And explain? Ahhrrggg. Hope that slave-driver of a master chef isn’t working you too hard in Paris. Wish me luck. Andy From: saffie@saffronthechef To: Andromeda@ConstellationOfficeServices Andy Davies, you are making my head spin. I cannot believe that you would agree to go onto an Internet dating site posing as Elise van der Kamp. I mean … Elise? Social skills of a piranha and twice as mean? Sheesh. I am not in the least surprised that she chose a friendly person to write her emails for her. As for the coffee date? I think you would feel better if you took a minute to go there and apologise in person. But be careful. Executive type? Being stood up and lied to? He could get cross. Use your charm. And take extra sharp pencils. Just in case. Love ya. Saffie the kitchen slave ANDROMEDA Davies stepped down from the red London bus and darted under the shelter of the nearest shop doorway. The November rain pounded on the fabric awning above her head and bounced off the pavement of
