Christmas around the world

It's December, and here's a roundabout of a few of my Christmas titles available around this world this year!

Gekust met kerst / Verliefd in de sneeuw

Als Lady Rose toevallig haar lookalike tegenkomt, aarzelt ze geen moment. Zo kort voor haar huwelijk met de uiterst verstandige Rupert lokt de vrijheid, dus ruilen ze voor een weekje

Harlequin, Holland

Hamupipőke tűsarkúban

Amikor Lucy rádöbben, hogy dúsgazdag vőlegénye becsapta őt és megtévesztette a közvéleményt, elhatározza, hogy leleplezi. Az üzletember biztonsági őrei azonban a nyomában vannak, és ő egy áruház karácsonyi forgatagában keres menedéket. Futás közben elveszíti a cipőjét, amelyet Nathaniel talál meg. Elhatározza, hogy megvédelmezi a halálra rémült lányt… 

Harlequin, Hungary

ALL' IMPROVVISO UN MILIONARIO

Lucy Bright si trova in un mare di guai: inseguita dagli scagnozzi del fidanzato non sa dove rifugiarsi. Il suo volto è troppo noto. Non le resta che confondersi tra la folla dei grandi magazzini più esclusivi di Londra, dove di certo nessuno guarderà una donna in cappotto rosso e con le scarpe in mano.
Nathaniel Hart è proprietario e direttore generale dei grandi magazzini Hastings & Hart. Tutto ciò che succede nei suoi locali non sfugge al suo occhio vigile, così non può fare a meno di notare il comportamento insolito di quella bellissima e misteriosa bionda. Chi è e perché si guarda intorno con aria impaurita? Ma la vera domanda è: perché dopo un solo fugace incontro lui non riesce più a togliersela dalla testa?

Harlequin, Italy

Idylle dans le désert

Ressembler trait pour trait à Lady Rose a toujours été un atout pour Lydia. Un atout qui se transforme même en conte de fées quand la princesse lui demande de passer, à sa place, une semaine de rêve dans le désert. Seulement, dès que Lydia croise le regard de jais de Kalil al-Zaki, le prince chargé de l'escorter à Bab el Sama, elle sent le trouble la gagner. Comment, dans ce décor des Mille et une Nuits, résister à cet homme fabuleux ? Comment, alors que tout son être brûle de mieux le connaître, ne pas lui révéler la femme qu'elle est vraiment ?

Harlequin, France

Lucy Bright nie wierzyła własnemu szczęściu, gdy ona – zwykła sekretarka – została narzeczoną multimilionera. Niestety okazało się, że ich związek to jedynie trick medialny. Na konferencji prasowej Lucy zrywa z „narzeczonym”, a uciekając przed dziennikarzami, wpada w ramiona przystojnego Nathaniela Harta. Kiedy Lucy znika w tłumie, Nathaniel postanawia za wszelką cenę ją odnaleźć. Czy pomoże mu w tym jej zgubiony czerwony pantofelek?

Harlequin, Poland

Lucy Gordon/Liz Fielding 

Från att ha varit modeoraklet Rupert Henshawes sekreterare är Lucy Bright nu plötsligt innefolkets favorit – och det stundande äktenskapet med honom har verkligen fört henne till himmelriket. Men då Lucy upptäcker att Ruperts intresse för henne egentligen bara är en väl genomtänkt pr-kupp inser hon att hon är grundlurad. Efter en presskonferens hon helst av allt vill glömma flyr hon förkrossad fältet, och var kan man bättre gömma sig än på ett varuhus där julhandeln pågår för fullt? Lucys hjärta är krossat, men när hon av en slump hamnar i famnen på en annan man verkar det som om det finns en chans till ett lyckligt slut ...

Harlequin, Sweden

Ein Traummann zu Weihnachten?

Lucy fühlt sich wie im Märchen. Verkleidet als Cinderella, findet sie sich plötzlich an der Seite eines reichen Geschäftsmannes wieder. Doch dann entdeckt sie: Es ist alles eine Publicity-Maßnahme, um dessen schlechten Ruf aufzupolieren. Schockiert will sie den aufdringlichen Reportern entkommen – und läuft dem attraktiven Londoner Unternehmer Nathaniel Hart in die Arme. Vom ersten Moment an lässt er ihr Herz höher schlagen. Aber kaum glaubt Lucy, endlich ihren Traummann gefunden zu haben, muss sie ausgerechnet an Weihnachten fürchten: Nathaniel sucht nur eine Affäre
… 

Harlequin, Germany

A SURPRISE CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL

Her Christmas gift came in a small velvet box...

"Isn't it strange how things turn out? A week ago I was virtually jobless, almost homeless, and had totally sworn off men--a sad way to be before Christmas, don't you think? Now I'm not only working for the most gorgeous man alive, but I'm living in his house!"

Meet sassy, smiley Sophie Harrington. Read in her own words how a much-needed job brings her up close and personal with rugged bachelor Gabriel York. Although Sophie is hardly a waif or stray, Gabriel ends up taking her in as a temporary lodger in his exclusive London home. How long before he realizes Sophie isn't just for Christmas--but for life...?

Harlequin, North America

A SURPRISE CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL

In the last few weeks, several of my backlist books have been re-released as eBooks.  Instant gratification at the touch of a button no matter what eReading device you use.

I'm going feature them over the coming weeks and giving away a paper copy of the book to one lucky reader.  First up - seasonally - is A SURPRISE CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL.

The heroine, Sophie, had already featured in a minor role in two earlier books - City Girl in Training and The Billionaire Takes a Bride as a slightly irresponsible, maybe a touch spoiled young woman, but with an unexpectedly moral centre in the first and a kind heart in the second, as she tries to set up her best friend with "the boy next door". 

In A SURPRISE CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL, it's Sophie who's in trouble.  With no job, nowhere to live and no money - her father wants her to come home and look after him - she is thrown entirely on her own resources.   Jobs are hard to come by when you haven't got much in the way of qualifications - free-form flower arranging and the ability to make cup cakes in large quantities do not impress the lady at the employment agency - but she is offered a few hours dog walking, which is a start. Things do not, however, start well.

--




I WAS late.

It wasn’t my fault, okay?

People kept phoning me to see what I was doing to celebrate my birthday.  No one believed me when I said “nothing”.  They just laughed and said, “No, really, what are you doing?” and in the end I’d relented and promised I’d meet Tony down the pub at 9 o’clock.

Then my mother phoned from South Africa wanting to tell me about everything she’d been doing – well obviously not everything -- and I could hardly say I had more important things to do, could I?  Anyway, it was hardly a matter of life or death, dogs couldn’t tell the time and I didn’t have to rush off anywhere else. They’d get their hour. Start twenty minutes late, finish twenty minutes late. Sorted.

Gabriel York’s address proved to be a tall, elegant, terraced house in a quiet cul de sac untroubled by through traffic.  Its glossy black front door was flanked by a pair of perfectly clipped bay trees which stood in reproduction Versailles boxes; no one in their right mind would leave the genuine lead antiques on their doorstep, even if it would take a crane to lift them. The brass door furniture had the well worn look that only came from generations of domestics applying serious elbow grease, a fate, I reminded myself, that awaited me unless I gave some serious thought to my future.

The whole effect was just too depressingly perfect for words. Like something out of a costume drama where no one was interested in the reality of the mud, or the smell of nineteenth century London.

This was a street made for designer chic and high, high heels and I felt about as out of place as a lily on the proverbial dung heap.

I’d stupidly forgotten to ask what kind of dogs Mr York owned and, since there was no way I was going to call back and ask Miss Frosty to enlighten me, I’d gone for the worst case scenario and assumed something large and muscular times two and dressed accordingly. At home that would have meant one of the ancient waxed jackets that had been hanging in the mud room for as long as I could remember and a pair of equally venerable boots.  The kind of clothes that my mother lived in.

Had lived in.

These days, as she’d told me at length, she was to be found stretched out poolside in a pair of shorts, a halter neck top and factor 60 sun block.  I didn’t blame her: she was undoubtedly entitled to a bit of fun after a lifetime of waiting hand foot and finger on my father for no reward other than an occasional grunt.

I just didn’t want to be reminded of the difference between her life and my own, that was all.

Here in London it was doing something seasonal in the way of freezing drizzle and although I’d stuffed my hair into a pull-on hat, I hadn’t been able to find a pair of gloves and my fingers were beginning to feel decidedly numb.

Anyway, without the luxury of a help yourself selection of old clothes to choose from I’d had to make do with my least favourite jeans, a faux-fur jacket - a worn-once fashion disaster that I’d been meaning to take to the nearest charity shop - and a pair of old shoes that my sister had overlooked when she moved out.  They were a bit on the big side but with the help of a pair of socks they’d do. They’d have to. I wasn’t wearing my good boots to plough through the undergrowth of Battersea Park.

But now I realised that I looked a total mess for no good reason. I needn’t even have bothered to change my shoes. I only had to take one look at those pom-pom bay trees to know that Mr York’s dogs would be a couple of pampered, shaved miniature poodles, with pom-pom tails to match. They’d undoubtedly consider a brisk trot as far as Sloane Square a serious workout.

So, I asked myself, as I mounted the steps to his glossy front door, what kind of man would live in a house like this? My imagination, given free reign, decided that Mr York would be sleek and exquisitely barbered with small, white hands.  He’d have a tiny beard, wear a bow tie and do something important in “the arts”.  I admit to letting my prejudices run away with me here.  I have a totally irrational dislike of clipped bay trees – and clipped poodles.

Poor things.

I rang the doorbell and waited to see just how well my imagination and reality coincided.

The dogs responded instantly to the doorbell, one with an excited bark, the other with a howl like a timber wolf in some old movie. One of them hurled himself at the door, hitting it with a thump so emphatic that it echoed distantly from the interior of the house and suggested I might have been a bit hasty in leaping to judgement based on nothing more substantial than a prejudice against the owners of any life form that had been tortured into an unnatural shape.

If they were poodles, they were the great big ones, with voices to match.

Unfortunately, the dogs were the only ones responding to the bell. The door remained firmly shut, with no human voice to command silence. No human footsteps to suggest that the door was about to be flung open.

Under normal circumstances I would have rung the bell a second time, but considering the racket the dogs were making my presence could hardly have gone unnoticed, so I waited.

After a few moments, the dog nearest the door stopped barking, the howl died down to a whimper but, apart from a scrabbling, scratching noise from the other side of the door as one of them tried to get at me, that was it.

Seriously irritated – I wasn’t that late and the dogs still needed to be walked -- I raised my hand to the bell to ring again, but then drew back at the last minute, my outstretched fingers curling back into my palm as annoyance was replaced by a faint stirring of unease.

‘Hello?’ I said, feeling pretty stupid talking to a dog through a door. The scrabbling grew more anxious and I bent down, pushed open the letterbox and found myself peering into a pair of liquid brown eyes set below the expressive brows of a cream, silky hound. ‘Hello,’ I repeated, with rather more enthusiasm. ‘What’s your name?’

He twitched his brows and whined sorrowfully. Okay, I admit it was a stupid question.

‘Is there anyone home besides you dogs?’ I asked, trying to see past him into the hallway.

The intelligent creature backed away from the door, giving me a better look at his sleek short coat, feathery ears and slender body, then he gave a short bark and looked behind him as if to say, “Don’t look at me, you fool, look over there…" and that’s when I saw Gabriel York and realised I’d got it all wrong.

His dogs were not poodles and he wasn’t some dapper little gallery owner in a bow tie.

Gabriel York was six foot plus of dark-haired, muscular male.  And the reason he hadn’t answered the door when I rang, was because he was lying on the hall floor.  Still.  Unmoving.


-- 


This is a Christmas book and to have your name put in the draw for a copy of A SURPRISE CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL to add to your own stocking, leave a comment sharing your own favourite Christmas traditions.  I'll get the Best Beloved to pick a name out of the hat on 31 October. 

A SURPRISE CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL is available for all eBook readers, including the Mobi and any other device you use - even just to download to your computer for a sneaky read when everyone thinks you're working!

This is for Amazon US and here is a link for Amazon UK

GERMAN SURPRISE

Last year, A SURPRISE CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL was published in the "Love & Laughter" series in Germany. Clearly it was a hit because yesterday I stumbled on this book at the German Amazon site, giving it a second outing and I loved the cover so much that I had to share.

We don't always get copies of foreign editions, or even discover they've been published until the half yearly statement arrives many months later. Yesterday was one of those moments when, despite all the problems I have with it, I love the 'net.

I've also just received the hardback editions of my first book for next year, SECRET BABY, SURPRISE PARENTS. The cover image -- a really rather lovely one -- seems to have disappeared from my computer, but it's in the sidebar. It won't be retail paperback until April, but look out for the HERE COME THE BRIDES/GROOMS competition with Kate Walker and Anne McAllister in January when one of these babies will be up for grabs. The heroine -- Grace McAllister -- was named to honour two of my favourite authors. One is Grace Green, now sadly retired. The other is-- well you can work it out for yourself!

AND TWO WINNERS!

This is just in from Susan Meier...

Karen Kish and Snookie won the drawing!

Each receive a copy of my book and a sample box of candy from the candy factory I toured as research to write next year's Christmas story.

I'll need snail mail addresses from Karen and Snookie!

Thanks everyone for stopping by.

WINTER BOOK SALE

Mills & Boon are having a Winter Book sale at the moment and I notice that, along with a load of other stellar titles perfect for the Christmas stocking, they're selling last year's Christmas anthology which include A Surprise Christmas Proposal by yours truly for £2.

Check it out here.

I love books for Christmas, too and I've been searching out the backlist Michael Gilbert, of one of my favourite crime writers, winner of the Cartier Diamond Dagger, who died a couple of years ago.

His full length book are entertaining but his short stories are magic. Wonderful twist in the tale stuff. I especially love his stories about a couple of elderly (and deadly) secret agents, one called simply, Mr Calder and Mr Behrens and the other Game Without Rules. The books are nearly all out of print and incredibly expensive to buy second hand, but there is a new edition of A Pity About the Girl... Definitely one for this lady's stocking. :)

THE GREAT ADVENT CALENDAR GIVEAWAY

DAY 17

December 17th

Hi, sorry I've been leaving Liz to get on with the competition, especially since she's been so busy. But I've needed time to think.

I've been letting my life drift on without me for the last couple of years, but now I realise that I have to take control, drive my dreams. Reach for the stars. But I'm going to miss this beautiful place.





So, back to business. Laurie in Canada won the copy of BITTERSWEET DECEPTION and the book is on its way to her. The answers, of course, were Eloping With Emmy and The Secret Life of Lady Gabriella (no, Liz didn't suddenly start writing historical romances -- it was an "experimental" title, getting away from the brides, babies, thing.)


Anyway, today we've got another of Liz's Rita short-listed books, CITY GIRL IN TRAINING. This one was a bit of a ground-breaker. Her first "first-person" book. (A Surprise Christmas Proposal was the other.)


In this Philly, levered out of the nest by her globe-trotting parents, waves a reluctant goodbye to the boy next door and heads for the city lights, a new job and new flatmates and immediately gets into trouble.

And then more trouble.

And then again...

Fortunately, she's met Cal. Another "boy next door" -- except Cal isn't a boy. Far from it. He's a great big hunk of a man. Not that he's ever going to be interested in Philly because he's gay.

This is the book that Presents author Susan Stephens famously burned the Sunday lunch when she couldn't put it down.

You have been warned.

You want to win this book? Of course you do. Just send an email to liz @lizfielding.com with Day Seventeen in the subject line, your name and address in the body of the email and the answer to this question. Liz has won three awards for her books. Two of them were RITAS, what was the other one? It's on the website!

THE GREAT ADVENT CALENDAR GIVEAWAY

DAY SEVEN

7th December

You all think Sheikh Zahir is hot...

You are so right. He’s hotter than bird’s eye chillies. And funny, too. And oceans deep. And last night… Well, last night I realised that I’ve got to stop this right now. Whatever this is.

Best chauffeur uniform. Hat on straight. No more talking. Or anything else. I might be the nearest thing to Cinderella that Sheikh Zahir has ever met, but there are no fairy godmothers going to fix this one for me. I’m a mother. I have responsibilities. It’s making a life for Freddy that’s important and I need this job.

Right. So where was I?

Day Five. You all got Sophie Harrington as the heroine of A SURPRISE CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL and congratulations go to Therese, whose name came out of the hat. Your prize, THE BEST MAN & THE BRIDESMAID is on its way to you in Australia, Therese; have fun with the ducky Daisy and the totally gorgeous Robert.

And now it’s time to open the door to Day Seven. Here we go and it’s -- A NANNY FOR KEEPS.

Ah, now, this book is a good old-fashioned fairy story. Jacqui Moore is on the run from the job she loves. She can’t bear the thought of getting close to another child only to lose that love in the space of a heartbeat. But she’s conned into doing one last “universal aunt” run for her friend's nanny agency, delivering Maisie to her grandma on her way to the airport.

The child is a total princess, the grandmother is not there and, having climbed the big nasty hill in her precious, but aged, “Beetle”, Jacqui finds herself faced with the magnificent, scarred (and scary) local giant, Harry Talbot.

Here’s a little quote from the front of the book:

“He was beautiful. Lean to the bone, hard , sculptured, his was the kind of body artists used for their life classes.

“Which made the scars lacerating his back, scars which he hadn’t moved quickly enough to hide from her, all the more terrible.

“Without thinking, she reached out as if to touch him, take the pain into her own body.”

Mmmm… Liz said, “Jack & the Beanstalk”. I’m thinking maybe “Beauty & the Beast”.

For a chance to win the book and make up your own mind about that, email Liz at liz @lizfielding.com with Day Seven in the subject line, your name and address in the body and the answer to today’s question, which is: Which fellow "Harlequin Romance" author designed and maintains Liz's website? You'll find the answer here.

THE GREAT ADVENT CALENDAR GIVEAWAY

DAY FIVE

5th December

Okay, I’ve dropped His Excellency at the fabulous Bella Lucia restaurant in Berkeley Square, Mayfair, driven his aide back to the hotel (that man really hates me!) and because I don’t want to think about the beautiful princess who was at the reception, I’ve dropped in here where the nice people are.

And what a bunch of old romantics you are! Amongst the Vigos and Georges and Hughs, a cat, three dogs and someone's mum, the guy that came out on top in the desert island question was -- your own fella. Obviously there was no right answer to this one, so everyone went into the hat (a big wide-brimmed Peruvian job this time -- it's getting colder) and Patricia Woodside’s email was the first out for the copy of ALL SHE WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS. It’s on it’s way to Florida right now, Patricia. Happy Christmas!

Behind the door today is one of those books that Liz clutched to her heart when she took it out of the box. Well, it is a very pretty cover, but there’s a little more to it than that, apparently. THE BEST MAN & THE BRIDESMAID was published in 2000 and, in July 2001 Liz was woken up at some unbelievable hour by her editor calling from New Orleans to tell her that it had won the Romance Writers of America RITA® for Best Traditional Romance. That's it up there.

Actually, she’s got two of these lovely ladies, plus a Betty Neels Rose Bowl. Stick around, I’m telling you confidence that there are copies of her other award winning books hiding behind one of the calendar doors somewhere, but even I don't know which one.

But back to THE BEST MAN & THE BRIDESMAID. This is one of those lovely friends-to-lovers stories… Of course I’ve read it , what do you think I’m going to do with myself while I’m hanging around waiting for delayed flights to arrive? I wouldn't go anywhere without a book, although right now I need to spend more time with my Blue Book -- I've got to get through the Knowledge if I'm ever to be a London cab driver.

Anyway, Daisy has been in love with Robert since she was six years old but knows better than to make a fool of herself over Mr Cool. Now, thought, he’s best man at her brother’s wedding. And she, under the fiercest protest, has been dragged into the action as a stand-in bridesmaid. Don't you just know there's going to be a moment when everything suddenly clicks into place? But obviously not until the last page...

For a chance to win email Liz at liz @ lizfielding.com with Day Five in the subject line, your name and address in the body of the email along with the name of the heroine of her BRIDES FOR CHRISTMAS reprint – A SURPRISE CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL. There’s an excerpt on the website if you need some help.

AUTUMN

We're having the most beautiful autumn here in Wales.

We've had a couple of crisp, frosty mornings with bright blue skies, but mostly it's just been unseasonably warm, with bright sunshine and as a result this weekend the best beloved took himself off into the woods in Llanarthne to test his new camera. It works -- here's the result!


LOVE AND LAUGHTER

Meanwhile, in Germany, Cora have published A Surprise Christmas Proposal in their Tiffany series here.

An English excerpt is online at my website, since it's also being republished in the UK in December as BRIDES FOR CHRISTMAS as a "By Request" available online now from the Mills & Boon link opposite).