Christmas at Thornton Hall. Lynn Marie Hulsman
Читать онлайн.| Название | Christmas at Thornton Hall |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Lynn Marie Hulsman |
| Жанр | Контркультура |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Контркультура |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9780007568871 |
Christmas at Thornton Hall
Lynn Marie Hulsman
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
Contents
I’m a writer. My mother’s death brought an epiphany. “Life is short,” said my inner voice. “Thanks, I.V.,” I replied. “I know what I have to do.” In short order, I got an agent, co-wrote two books, ghost-wrote another, published an article, and sold a novel.
Kentucky-born, tall tales and hyperbole are in my bones. I love story. My real jobs? Equity actor. Ad copy writer for casinos, (“Loose slots!”) Stand-up comic. Pharma editor. Cheese cube passer-outer (admitted low point). I’m an Ideation Agent (sounds fake, right?) and run an improv company in NYC. My favorite, favorite thing to do is write Romantic Comedy.
I live with my family in Hell’s Kitchen, and am seen around town auctioneering for charity, hosting gay men’s fashion shows, and calling bingo games.
You can follow me on Twitter @LynnMarieSays.
For my dear friend Kate Bushmann.
“Juliet, it’s Phillipa from The Gastronome’s Trust. Big stuff. I hope I’m not calling too early,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.
I held the phone with one hand and stroked the still-warm, empty space next to me in the bed with my other, drinking in the sensation of being a grown-up.
I seriously cannot believe I’m me, I thought, suppressing a manic giggle. I’m in my boyfriend’s Mayfair apartment – which he owns! – answering a phone call from my agent who’s about to offer me real money for my very much in demand culinary skills to put in my – wait for it! – savings account. A savings account which now has enough for me to go back to college and complete my sociology degree. Who would have thought it? Juliet Hill – back on track. Certified Grown-up. Even my mother would have to agree. My mind was racing, even though my body hadn’t quite caught up, yet.
I’m on the brink of a new beginning, I’m moving back to New York to complete the studies I’d dropped all those years ago. And I’m moving back with my successful boyfriend…successful and athletic, I thought, wincing as I stretched out my aching limbs. After recent work trips to the States, then New Zealand, Ben seemed determined to make up for lost time: he was like the cat that swallowed the canary. Absence had certainly made his body grow fonder, and his heart, too, I hoped. So maybe, if I’m honest with myself,