It’s the Ludlow Hall Sneak Peek…

 

CCMACKENZIE.COM

Hello, dear readers!

It’s not only the first day of December, but it’s the Ludlow Hall sneak peek.

The Dower House… and six year old Sophia Ferranti is in her bedroom. Her mama had sent her up here for a time-out (with no TV or iPad, which sucked lemons) due to “Excessive rudeness and being nasty” to her twin brother, Luca…

The Bichon Frise nestled nice and cosy on her lap, Sophia gently brushed Jimmy Chew’s silky fur. Her heart hurt because nobody in her family loved her anymore. Was it her fault her brother was as dumb-as-a-turnip, as Auntie Rosie would say? Nope. Auntie Rosie also said that the trouble with Luca was that he was so laid back he was horizontal. Sophia wasn’t quite sure what that meant herself, all she knew was that Luca was lazy and cared for nothing more than playing with his stupid Lego. Lego got everywhere. The memory of her papa dancing a jig in his bare feet in the family room—and the way he cursed in Italian (he only ever said bad words in Italian)—made her snicker. Oh boy, Luca got into Big Trouble for that. Stupid boy.

As far as Sophia Ferranti was concerned, all boys were stupid, and smelly. However, she had to admit that right now her heart was broken into a thousand pieces, and nobody cared. A hot lump lodged in her throat, but she blinked fast to clear her vision because she refused to give the people who lived in this house the satisfaction of knowing she’d been cut-to-the-bone, as Auntie Rosie said.

She lifted her dog, and moved to sit on her chair in front of her dressing table. It was a pink dressing table, painted by Auntie Janine, and it matched the fabulous pink framed mirror, which had a crown painted in Gold at the top. Jimmy Chew yawned hugely, turned three times on her lap, and settled down for more pampering. Her fingers rummaging around a clear plastic box, she searched for the right hair-tie for the dog’s fur to keep it out of his eyes. Once she was happy with the effect, she grabbed a new fancy dog leash—blue with clear crystals—and clipped it on to his new matching collar. She couldn’t wait to take him out for a walk in town. Jimmy Chew was regularly walked in town to socialise him with other dogs and other humans who were strangers.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted her bedroom door opening very, very slowly. In the mirror, Sophia watched it with interest. Then she scowled and glared when Luca’s dark head poked around the door. His grin made her hand itch to slap it from his stupid face. But, if she did that her mama might go to “Extreme measures”. To be honest, Sophia wasn’t sure what that meant, but didn’t want to chance-her-luck, as Auntie Rosie said.

Bravely ignoring the snarl on his sister’s face, Luca, wearing one navy ankle sock and dressed in knee length jean shorts and his favourite Spiderman T-shirt slid into the room. Since it didn’t look as if she’d molest him, he attempted a handstand. He’d been practising handstands for weeks, but had yet to find his balance. His papa said practice made perfect. “I’m gonna be Spiderman. I can climb up walls.”

His high yell as he tumbled to the floor had Jimmy Chew leap to the carpet and bark at him.

Sophia bounced around in her chair. “What are you doing? Why are you creeping into my room like that? And you’ve made Jimmy Chew piddle on my good rug. Go away, stoopid. GO AWAY!”

Luca listened to the blistering rhetoric in mournful silence. When she ceased to take a breath, he took his chance. “Mama sent me to fetch you.”

“Why? What have I done now?”

“Dunno.”

“You know nuthin'”

Luca lifted a shoulder, well used to his twin’s insults. She was full-of-hot-air, as his Auntie Rosie said, and he let it roll of him, like-water-off-a-duck’s-back—another of Auntie Rosie’s sayings. “Auntie Rosie’s arrived, and she has a surprise for her favourite niece.”

Sophia jumped as if she’d been shot. “What? A surprise for me?”

“That’s what she said.”

Up flew Sophia, she grabbed Jimmy Chew and dashed out the door.

Luca had to grin as he strolled after her, his sister loved surprises, and if it cheered her up then he was happy. He knew in his heart that Sophia didn’t mean half of the things she said to him. She had too much energy and thought heavy thoughts, which was why she was a cranky-wee-monkey at times, as Auntie Rosie said. However, the sound of a high-pitched scream and a body falling down the stairs had him run. The sight of Sophia lying on the floor at the bottom of the wide staircase made him yell for his papa. However, it was the sight of blood pooling beneath her blonde head that had him faint dead away.

 

 

 

***

As long as she lived, Bronte Ferranti knew she would never, ever forget the sight of her baby girl lying on the floor as if she was dead. Jimmy Chew’s leash was tangled around her ankle. The dog was unhurt, but howling his little heart out. Face sheet white, Nico had been on his knees and running his hands very gently over Sophia. When Bronte saw that the child’s arm was clearly broken, she’d bitten into the knuckles at her mouth.  Nico’s hands had been shaking as he brushed white blonde hair aside to see how bad it was. Meanwhile, Rosie had a sobbing Luca on her knee as she called an ambulance. The ride in the ambulance, sirens and blue lights blazing, had been another kind of hell. Now, twenty four hours later, they were sitting by their daughter’s hospital bed, waiting for her to waken up.  Her left arm, from wrist to elbow had been set and fitted with a pale pink plaster. The sight of it made tears again sting in Bronte’s throat. She sniffed, and a strong arm came around her shoulders. Bronte turned her face into Nico’s shoulder.

“She is going to be fine, cara mia. All the X-rays and tests are all clear,” her husband said in his deep, rumbly voice. “The doctors are happy with her.”

“I know, but she looks so white.” When Sophia fluttered her eyelids, Bronte leaned over to take her uninjured hand. “Hey, baby girl. Mama and papa are here.”

“Head hurts,” Sophia whispered.

Nico rang for the nurse. “You fell down the stairs and hit your head. Good job it is a hard head because you are going to be fine.”

 

 

***

Two days later…

“When can I go home?” Sophia said, sitting up in her hospital bed, surrounded by toys, but tucked in her good arm was her favourite Raggedy Ann doll.

“Well, that’s nice, isn’t it?” Nurse Jean said, with a twinkle in her eye. She gently placed a thermometer in Sophia’s ear. “I thought we might keep you since you keep us so entertained.”

Sophia just grinned. “I do like you, but I don’t like hospital. It smells funny.”

“Well, if you want to be a doctor one day, you’ll have to get used to it,” Nurse Jean said as she marked up her chart. “We’ll see what the doctor says.”

A brisk knock at the door heralded the arrival of Auntie Rosie, Uncle Alexander, her mama and papa. After greeting the nurse, Nico gently took his daughters little face between his hands and studied her eyes and the huge bump on her head. A bump which had given her black eyes. “How is my best girl?”

“I want to go home.”

“She’s moaning,” Rosie said and moved to sit on a chair, “So she must be feeling better.”

Rosie rummaged in a huge bag of cream leather, and found her make-up bag. When she opened a compact mirror and rolled bright red lipstick on her lips, Sophia watched her with interest. Rosie made kissy noises. “Right, gimme the poorly arm.”

When Rosie very gently placed a kiss on the plaster, Sophia beamed. “Ooooh, a kiss makes my heart bigger.”

Bronte’s emerald eyes went all teary. “Aww, does it? Okay, Rosie, gimme the lippy.”

After her mama kissed the plaster, Sophia eyed her papa.

Nico swallowed.

Seriously?

His baby girl wanted him to wear lipstick and kiss her plaster?

When Alexander snorted a laugh, Nico turned to him. “I will if you will.”

Eyes dancing, Alexander shrugged. “No problem. I’m man enough.”

Nico, wearing lipstick for the first—and last—time in his life, kissed the plaster, all the while manfully ignoring the way his wife and Rosie were bent double with laughter. Then he turned to Alexander and offered him the lipstick. His best friend did his duty, and Nico reckoned it was all worth it to see how such a small thing thrilled his irrepressible Sophia and made her heart bigger.

When nurse Jean popped her head around the door to check out the noise of hilarity, her brows rose at the way two big, handsome men were clapping each other on the back. They rose even higher when she spotted they were wearing lipstick.

Sophia, her smile splitting her little face, held up her arm. “Look! Look what they did. They gave me kisses to make it better.”

“So they did.” She eyed Nico and Alexander. “Would you gentlemen like a tissue?”

Nico, his arm slung around Alexander’s shoulders, shook his head. “No problemo. I am Italian.”

 

 

FINE

Finally, the Ludlow Hall sneak peek is back….

Join the ferranti family,

 

Guess what I’ve got for you today?

Welcome back to The Ludlow Hall Sneak Peek with Nico, Bronte & Co.

It’s a sunny autumn Saturday morning in The Dower House and Nico Ferranti, his feet bare, dressed in his favorite soft jeans, loose at the waist, and ratty T-shirt stretched tight across wide shoulders, is shaving. Thanks to a six hour delay at Rome airport, he’d arrived home late last night. Too late to kiss his children and baby good night. But not too late to kiss his sleepy wife awake—and of course one kiss led to another and then—his grin went slow and sexy as he lifted his chin to run his razor through white foam. Ah, he was a happy man. A lucky man. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a movement at the bathroom door. Sophia, wearing her favourite Elsa nightgown and clutching her battered Raggedy Ann to her chest was watching him like a little hawk. His children knew better than to interrupt him when shaving, in case he sliced his face with the old fashioned but lethal blade. His daughter and her twin were nudging towards their seventh birthday and the thought make him shake his head at the way time flew too fast. He rinsed his face, and lifted a white fluffy towel, warm from the heated towel rail, to pat it dry. In the mirror, he caught a glimpse of a few white hairs around his temple. They didn’t worry him. Hadn’t Bronte said he was going to be a sexy white fox? Plus, he worked out regularly. His belly was still flat and hard. Earlier Bronte had explored his belly, and another hard part of his anatomy, and what she called his ‘awesome guns’. Hehe.

“Papa,” Sophia said. “You’re in big trouble.”

Nico blinked, and eyed her in the mirror.

She eyed him right back.

“Considering I’ve been in Rome for three days, I cannot imagine what sin I have committed when I wasn’t even here.”

“You missed Luca’s spelling competition.”

Nico sighed and crouched down to take her little face between his hands and drop a kiss to her nose. “Si. My flight was delayed. Even I cannot grow wings and fly.”

“I know that. But, he came second. It’s a big deal, papa.”

Nico smiled. “Second? Well done, Luca.”

Her face still serious, Sophia nodded, then bonked him on the head with Raggedy Ann.

“He was the youngest boy to reach the final and up against bright sparks,” she said.

“Bright sparks?”

“That’s what auntie Rosie called them.”

“Hmm. I can hear her say it myself.”

She nodded again and said seriously, “Uh huh, auntie Rosie said the word that tripped Luca up at the last damn hurdle was tricky.”

Nico bit down hard on his bottom lip. “What was it?”

“Liaise. He missed out the second i.”

Impressed, Nico studied her face and realized his twins were growing up fast. Maybe too fast. “That is tricky. Did you know how to spell it?”

“No. But I do now.”

He stood, took her hand and they headed for the kitchen for one of his wife’s Saturday breakfasts. “It is always the way with spelling,” he said. “We always remember the mistakes. English is not easy even for people for whom English is their first language.”

As they entered the kitchen/living/family room, the delicious aromas of pancakes cooking on the eight burner stove had Sophia race to take her seat beside her twin. At eighteen months, Eva, still wearing her pink pj’s edged with a frill at the waist and ankles was ensconced in her high chair, her fingers sliding over sliced banana in her pink plastic bowl. When she spotted her father, she forgot her banana, clapped her hands as her fat little legs pumped and she yelled in joy, “Papa!!”

“Good morning, neonata.” Nico took time to bend down for a cuddle and to blow raspberries on her neck, while her hands gripped his hair and pulled.

“Papa!” Luca crowed. “You have banana in your hair.”

Si, your sister likes to make a mess, Nico said in his deep voice, as Luca tossed him a white cotton napkin.

He decided not to tell his son his Spiderman T-shirt was on inside out. Instead, he kissed Luca’s hot cheeks and scrubbed his knuckles over a grinning Tonio’s black curls. Then he headed for his wife who was busy preparing breakfast, admiring the way her tight butt, clad in dark jeans, wiggled to a rock song on the radio. From his position of his dog bed set in the corner of the room, their Bischon Frise, Jimmy Chew, kept an eagle eye on food preparation in case anything dropped to the floor. Nico gave in to temptation and wound his arms around Bronte’s slim waist. She had the figure of a girl. He hugged her tight while he nuzzled his favorite spot on her neck. “Good morning, bella. You smell amazing.”

When Bronte promptly used her spatula to slap his hand that had whipped a piece of crispy bacon from the pan, the Ferranti children howled with laughter.

“Try to pretend you’re civilized, sit at the table and wait until I’ve finished,” she told him.

Unoffended, he crunched the bacon and gave a solid pat to her butt.

Then he did as he was bid and headed to his spot at the head of the table.

When everyone was settled and digging in to a mountain of buckwheat pancakes, bacon, eggs, fresh juices for the kids, and coffee for the adults, Nico took time to simply enjoy the moment.

“I hear you did very well in the spelling competition. I am sorry I missed it,” he said to Luca.

Luca made a face. “I lost.”

“Luca’s really hot on English. I’m hot on Math,” Sophia said.

“I hate Math,” Luca said. “I just don’t get why we’ve gotta learn stupid stuff.”

“Math is not stupid,” Tonio piped up.

“Try not to speak with your mouth full, Tonio,” Bronte reminded him.

Tonio swallowed, shot her grin. “Sorry. But, it is sooooo good. I love your cooking.”

Bronte beamed. “You’re very welcome.”

Nico reckoned Tonio knew exactly how to charm and stay in Bronte’s good books.

He turned his attention back to Luca. “It was a great achievement to come second against a boy who is two years older than you. Well done. I am proud of you.”

Luca’s cheeks flushed. “I wanted to win.”

Si. But again, we cannot win at everything in life. All we can do is give it our best shot and then try again.”

Luca nodded. “I’ll win next time.”

Silence prevailed, until…

“Mama and I have been thinking…” Nico said and waited until he had everyone’s attention. “How do you feel about a move to our villa in Italy and you attend school in Lake Como? Perhaps for a couple of years—to improve your Italian?”

Tonio blinked. “I would like it very much.”

Luca made a face. “I dunno. Do they have spelling competitions in Italy?”

Si,” Luca beat Nico to it.

Bronte caught Nico’s eye and nudged her chin towards a very quiet Sophia who was pushing a piece of bacon around her plate with her fork.

Nico studied his eldest daughter’s body language, the hunched shoulders and dropped chin. Uh oh. “Sophia, bella?”

Sophia lifted her head and met his eye. “No.”

“You do not enjoy our house at Lake Como?”

“I love it. But, I don’t wanna live there forever.”

“It wouldn’t be forever,” Bronte said. “And you would see more of your cousins.”

Sophia made a face. “Yes. But, I’d miss Emily.”

Nico nodded. “Si. But, Emily can visit regularly and you can stay with her in the holidays, too.”

Sophia’s emerald eyes glittered with unshed tears as her chest rose and fell. Her bottom lip trembled. “She’s my best friend. I see her every day. And without me she would be lonely because she has no brothers or sisters. I like my school and my friends and my teacher. I don’t wanna go to Italy.”

Nico exchanged a look with Bronte. “We will think about it,” he said.

Sophia slid from her chair, grabbed Raggedy Ann from the floor and clutched her doll to her chest. The light of battle lit her emerald eyes. “No! I’m not going to Italy. You can’t make me.”

She ran from the room with Jimmy Chew hard on her heels. Child and dog thundered up the stairs, seconds later Sophia’s bedroom door banged.

“That went well,” Bronte muttered.

“If Sophia doesn’t wanna go to Italy, I don’t wanna go,” Luca said, his face fierce.

The twins might bicker, but when push came to shove they looked after each other.

Nico’s brows rose. “We are only thinking about it. No decision has been made.”

Tonio took a break from hoovering up his breakfast. He eyed Sophia’s full plate and stole her bacon. “There is no point in causing a big upset,” he said with a calm wisdom far beyond his years. “I love my football team. And my English is getting better. I am happy anywhere.”

“May I leave the table?” Luca asked his mother.

“Yes. Make sure you’ve done your Math homework by lunchtime. I don’t want a repeat of last Sunday evening’s multiplication drama,” she said severely.

Luca shot her a dark look, but he nodded as he left.

The way his feet dragged a person might think his mother was sending him down the mines to dig for coal.

“He hates Math,” Tonio stated the obvious. “I will help him.”

Nico reckoned the day Tonio had come into their lives had been a lucky day. The boy was kind, hard working, and easy going. “Grazie. When you are finished we will watch football this afternoon.”

Nico saw his wife eye their baby girl.

A baby girl who was holding her breath, her face red as she filled her diaper.

Bronte whipped the baby out of her chair and headed for the nursery and a spot of belated potty training.

“You two clear the table and tidy the kitchen.”

“I reckon we got the best job,” Nico said to Tonio as they worked as an efficient team to fill the dishwasher and wipe down the table and worktops.

“I do not think it is a good idea to make a big upheaval in the twins lives for no good reason,” Tonio said as he polished the glass table to a shine, then placed a goldfish bowl filled with fresh flowers in the middle, exactly as Bronte liked it. “Sophia would miss auntie Rosie, too. They are very close.”

By this stage, Nico wished he had kept his big mouth shut. “It was just an idea. As I said nothing is set in stone.” He eyed Tonio. “You would see more of your uncle Gregorio.”

“I can stay with him during the holidays, or perhaps he can visit with us at Christmas.”

Nico set the dishwasher programme before turning to him. “That is an excellent idea. I will ask him about his plans.”

Tonio moved to the huge velvet sofa set in front of a massive flat screened TV. He picked up the remote control and found the sports channel. “I think he is lonely.”

Nico settled himself in his favorite chair and placed his bare feet on the matching stool.

“He has been a bachelor for too long. He needs a wife.”

Tonio’s black brows rose. “From what I have seen he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Maybe he does not like women.”

Nico knew that Gregorio Ancelotti liked women well enough and enjoyed the company of plenty. However, it was hardly the conversation to have with a ten year old. “However, he is descended from a wealthy Italian family and can trace his ancestors back to the time of the Borgias. He needs to find the right one.”

“Women,” Tonio said. “Are hard work.”

Nico turned amazed eyes upon him. “Some are. But most are easy to live with if a man knows how to handle the woman he loves.”

“The way you handle Bronte?” Tonio said, his dark eyes twinkling with sheer mischief.

Nico shrugged, and sent him a shit-eating grin. “Si. I am Italian!”

 

*Part two of this story coming next week…..*

 

Big hugs, girlies!

Christine X

 

 

Thank you so much for the book love, Break The Rules…

wwwbreaktherulesfightdirty

OUT NOW!     AMAZON    iBOOKS   NOOK

Greetings, dear readers,

A quick thank you for the amazing response to T.C. and Sean’s story. I’m thrilled you are thrilled!

“I loved this book. The people come right off the page and you can feel every emotion. I can tell I will be re-reading it over and over. I will be sharing this with everyone.xxx”  5*

“Yet again, another winner from one of my favourite authors. Love that we also get to re-visit characters from previous Ludlow Hall books. Can’t wait already for the next book in the series. CC Mackenzie Rocks.” 5*

“She’s done it yet again, satisfied me a little and left me wanting more
Now having to read the whole series yet again for the billionth time
Love love love this series.” 5*

“Another emotional read from C C, once again laughed and shed a tear, loved catching up with other Ludlow characters.”  5*

“Once again Cc hasn’t let us down. When having got anything to read will go back to read again five stars.”  5*

Coming very soon, NO RULES, and as soon as I have the pre-order links I’ll post them.

Big hugs and much love,

Christine X 

It’s Sneak Peek and time for a little kindness…

IT'S THE LUDLOW HALL SNEAK PEEK. BE KIND !

Bronte’s collected the twins and Emily from school.

As she eased her Range Rover around country bends heading for home, she glanced in the rear view mirror at her eldest daughter who’s sitting on her booster seat staring out of the window. When Sophia’s too quiet it usually means something’s up. Bronte didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“Our badges are sooooo cool,” Luca said to Emily.

Emily nodded, and checked out the badge pinned to her school blazer. “You have a blue one and mine’s pink.”

“What did you get a badge for?” Bronte asked.

“For kindness,” Luca piped up.

“That is cool. Who were you kind to?”

“Our friends voted for the kindest boy, that’s me, and the kindest girl, that’s Emily,” Luca said. “I sent Tom a get well card when he broke his leg. And Emily gave Susie a cuddle when she skinned her knee when she fell in the playground.”

Another glance in the rear view mirror and the look on Sophia’s face, as if she’d swallowed a wasp, told its own story.

Hmm.

“You okay, Sophia?”

Still facing the window, Sophia sent her mama a side-eye. “Fine.”

Emily stroked Sophia’s arm. “She’s upset because Miss Brown said we shouldn’t have best friends at school. That we should be inclusive and everyone is our friend.”

“She’s as dumb as a turnip,” Sophia said, channelling her Auntie Rosie. “I’ll never be friends with horrible people who are nasty. We need to stand up to bullies, not be friends with them.”

Well then, seemed that by asking a simple question, she’d opened up a whole can of worms. “We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

“Emily’s been my best friend since we were little babies. We’re sistas, just like you and Auntie Rosie. How would you feel if a dumb teacher told you not to be best friends with Auntie Rosie?”

“Calling a teacher names is disrespectful, Sophia. I won’t tolerate it. Modify your language please.”

Sophia heaved a deep sigh as she bored holes through the back of her mama’s head.

“Okay. Miss Brown is wrong. Being kind to bad people is silly because they do not deserve it.”

“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Bronte repeated and breathed a sigh of relief as she drove the car through the gates of The Dower House.

When Sophia raced past her without offering her usual hug of welcome, Rosie’s dark brows winged into her hairline.

The Ferranti Bichon Frise, Jimmy Chew, was hot on Sophia’s heels.

Rosie turned to eye a pale-looking Emily and suspiciously quiet Luca.

“Okay. What’s up?”

“Me and Emily gotta kindness badge.”

Rosie crouched down to take a closer look. “Nice. What’s up with my favorite niece? She upset because she didn’t get a badge?”

Emily shook her head hard enough to have her curls bounce. “Uh-uh. Miss Brown told us we can’t have best friends in school. Everyone is our friend.”

Rosie made a face. “That’s just stu…” When Bronte looked to heaven, she added, “What I mean is, that of course everyone should be friends. However, in my honest opinion, there is also a place for best friends.”

“That’s what Sophia said. I will always be her bestest friend for ever and ever,” Emily said in her high girly voice.

Rosie stroked a gentle hand down the river of shiny copper curls. “You’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

Since the meaning of the statement went right over her head, Emily nodded. “I love Sophia.”

Rosie grinned at the determined tone.

“What’s not to love?”

“Since the pair of you are wearing kindness badges, go up and spread a little to someone who needs it. Dinner will be ready in two hours,” Bronte said.

Luca’s dark eyes lit up. “What are we having?”

“Home made pizza.”

He sent her a deeply suspicious look. “The one with stupid vegetables and little trees?”

“No broccoli.”

“Good,” he muttered, leading Emily towards the stairs. “I hate the little trees.”

Rosie had to laugh. “Him and his little trees. Why did you give me a dirty look?”

“Sophia was rude about Miss Brown in the car and I told her name calling is unacceptable.”

Rosie perched on a high stool at the counter top. “Yeah? What did she call her?”

Bronte slid her a black look. “As dumb as a turnip.”

“Can’t say I disagree.”

“Of course you don’t. Just wait until Mila’s six. You’ll change your tune then.”

“Nah. She takes after Alexander in nature, which is just as well. Can you imagine two of me living under the same roof? We’d kill each other.”

Frowning, Bronte filled the kettle and switched it on. “Sophia needs to respect her teacher. Miss Brown’s lovely.”

“Hmm. Respect needs to be earned. The kindness badge is a good idea though. Maybe expand it to include the community at large rather than inside the classroom.”

When a miserable looking Emily and Luca returned to the kitchen and slid into seats at the table, Rosie sent Bronte big eyes. “What’s the matter now?”

“She wants to be left alone,” Emily said.

Her blue sad eyes just broke Rosie’s heart. “She’s doing a Greta Garbo.”

Luca looked at Rosie. “Who’s Greta Garbo?”

“She was a famous Hollywood actress who gave up her career and told the world she wanted to be left alone. She’s dead.”

Luca glowered. “Sophia’s not dead.”

“This is true. Forget I mentioned it. I’ll go speak to her.”

 

As Rosie left, Luca turned pleading brown eyes on his mama.

“I’m starving. Can I have something that isn’t healthy?”

Bronte had to laugh. “You can have a glass of milk and a white chocolate chip mini muffin. How does that sound?”

“Yay!”

“How about you, Emily?”

The little girl shook her head. “Sophia’s sad.”

“Rosie will cheer her up. You can save your milk and muffin until she brings Sophia down, what do you say?”

Emily smiled. “Okay.”

Bronte decided that she was the sweetest child and most definitely deserved her kindness badge. “Why don’t I play the Ninja Turtles video for you and Luca?”

“Thank you, Bronte.”

“You’re very welcome, Emily.”

 

 

***

 

Rosie knocked Sophia’s bedroom door and entered to find her niece dressed in soft jeans and her favorite Elsa T-shirt. She was sprawled on cushions on her window seat with Jimmy Chew dozing on her lap.

“Hey, what’s with the long face. And how come you didn’t give me a hug?”

“Sorry.”

In response, Rosie scooped up Sophia and the dog.

She sat on the window seat with them on her lap and wrapped her arms around both.

“I love the view from here. We can see right over the fields and the river to Ludlow Hall.”

“I’m watching for papa’s car.”

“Emily said the no best friend rule has upset you.”

“I don’t understand how I can be a friend to bad people.”

“Bad how?”

“The girls who pull hair or nip and scratch and say nasty things.”

“Hmm. Thing is, over time, people can change.”

Sophia shifted to look up into Rosie’s face. “Did you have people you didn’t like at school?”

“Sure did. When I was seven I used to dislike Janine.”

Sophia’s eyes were like saucers. “But, I love auntie Janine. She decorated my bedroom and does really cool things for us.”

“Yeah. Like I said, people change. When she was younger, she was a spoilt brat.”

“Wow.”

“Yep. But once she got older and had Boo, she was a changed person.”

“Why did she change?”

“Well, she went through a hard time when she had the baby. She needed help to pay the bills and your mama and me gave her a job at Sweet Sensations.”

“You helped her even when you didn’t like her?”

Rosie wondered why she’d begun this conversation in the first place and decided to keep it simple. “Something like that. But, mostly I fell in love with Boo and realized the Janine I knew as a child and the grown-up were not the same person. Now Janine’s one of my best friends and I love her to bits. Maybe think about giving people a chance. See what happens.”

Sophia nodded. “‘Kay. But Emily will always be my best friend.”

The persistent stubborn streak within her niece made Rosie grin. “That’s cool. But maybe think about including a couple of the shy girls who find it hard to make friends in your circle. That would be a kind thing to do for them.”

“I didn’t think of it like that.”

“Of course you didn’t. You’re only six and I’m the adult who understands these things. Fancy milk and a chocolate chip mini muffin?”

As soon as she’d mentioned the word chocolate, Jimmy Chew leapt off Sophia’s knee and shot out the door.

Rosie looked at Sophia. “I swear that dog understands every single word we say.”

Sophia’s dimple popped. “He understands chocolate and cookie.”

As Rosie took her hand as they strolled out the door, she mused, “And I wonder why that is?”

“Auntie Rosie?”

“Yes, my child?”

“Did you get into trouble all the time when you were my age?”

“Do birds fly in the sky? Do fish swim in the sea? Of course I did.”

“Were you kind to people you didn’t like?”

Rosie could not lie. “No.”

Sophia nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

“I always say to forgive, but never forget.”

“And you always say don’t get angry, get even.”

“That, too.”

“Growing up is hard.”

“Sure is. But you’re lucky because you’ve got me and your Uncle Alexander and your mama and papa to guide you. Trust me, between us there is nothing we haven’t seen.”

Rosie and Sophie entered the kitchen to find Bronte busy preparing dinner, including the ingredients for a huge bowl of salad. Luca won’t be pleased.

When Sophia skipped over to the table to join Emily, Rosie winked at a smiling Bronte.

 

“What did you say to her?” Bronte asked out of the corner of her mouth.

Rosie’s hand hovered over a sliced red pepper. “Just gave her the benefit of my infinite wisdom and vast experience.”

“God.”

“She’s a bright girl. All she needed was time to work through her thoughts.”

“I don’t want to micro-manage her life.”

“I get that. On the other hand, it’s good to keep tabs on what’s going on. We’re all she has between her and the rest of the world.”

Bronte blinked. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“Scary shit, isn’t it?”

“I’ve been wondering what sort of badge Miss Brown could give Sophia.”

Rosie munched on a pepper. “That’s dead easy. I am Italian.”

 

 

 

FINE

#bekind #kindness #amwriting #amediting

It’s Sneak Peek time at Ludlow Hall…

 

SNEAKPEEKMANTIME

Nico Ferranti’s study at The Dower House…

Since it’s after the family dinner, Nico was relaxing in his study—a glass of Chianti at his elbow—as he talked via Face time to Gregorio Ancelotti, Tonio’s uncle, in Italy.

“It sounds as if Tonio is doing well, Nico,” Gregorio said.

Nico nodded, studied the man on the screen.

Although Gregorio was in his late thirties, tall, slim and wide shouldered, his genes had decreed he had more grey hair than black. Bronte called him a silver fox, much to Tonio’s amusement. Like Nico, tonight the man wore a fitted T-shirt, black, and matching jeans.

“He enjoyed spending time with you at Christmas. Bronte says do not be a stranger. You are welcome any time to our home. You are la famiglia.” Not exactly offended, Bronte had wanted Gregorio to stay at The Dower House over the festive season. Instead he’d stayed in one of the Ludlow Hall’s stunning oak and stainless steel A frame cottages, perfectly happy to have his own space.

Gregorio’s dark eyes narrowed as his firm mouth curved in reluctant smile.

He spoke in his usual deeply accented drawl. “Grazie, Nico. I appreciate the invitation. However, an old bachelor like me can stomach only so much domestic bliss at any one time. You are a lucky man. The Ferranti household only serves to remind me of my—domestic failings.”

Nico had to laugh.

Domestic failings his ass.

Gregorio had his pick of women.

The man was rich, and according to Bronte hot.

Nico had heard a whisper that Gregorio had not spent some of his nights in his cottage alone during his Christmas visit.

None of his business, he reminded himself.

However, he decided that now might be the right time to make a point of an issue that was a cause for concern to his wife. “It is important to Bronte and I that Tonio spends time with what is left of his madre’s family.”

There was a silence as the two men regarded each other.

“Namely me,” Gregorio said, nodding slowly.

“You.”

Gregorio was about to respond, when Nico noticed the door to his study slowly open.

He lifted his head, suspecting the intruder might be the dog, Jimmy Chew, who had a habit of bellying into a room like a ninja. But it wasn’t the dog, instead it was his baby daughter, Eve, who was motoring into the room at a fast crawl.

It seemed someone had escaped from her mama after her bath.

The baby was dressed in a pink sleep suit, her silky black curls dancing on her head.

When she started to pull herself up to her feet, using the heavy oak door as support, he noted little fingers were about to be caught in the door hinge.

Nico was on his feet and had her in his arms, a heartbeat away from disaster.

As he took his seat in front of his laptop, Gregorio leaned forward to study the scene.

His eyes, usually cynical, went all soft. “Ah, Eve, bella. She is a beautiful bambina, Nico.”

Since the baby was busy dropping kisses to his cheek and jaw, it took Nico a while to respond.

“She has found her feet. You should find yourself a good woman and settle down,” Nico advised, and laughed at the wide-eyed look of utter horror on Gregorio’s face.

“I am content and happy and safe just as I am, and so is my money.”

Before Nico could respond, Tonio flew into the room. “Aha. There you are,” he sang to an Eve whose response was to bury her face in her papa’s shoulder, her little arms wound tight around his neck.

“Ah, Tonio,” Nico said, his voice deep and his Italian accent deep. “Here’s Gregorio. Spend some time with him, while I put Eve to bed.”

He strolled out the room and left uncle and nephew to it.

Tonio slipped into the ergonomic chair, the black leather still warm, and gave his uncle Gregorio a shy wave. “Hi.”

Gregorio cleared his throat. “How are you? How is school?”

Tonio wondered why every single adult he knew was totally obsessed with school?

“I’ve received an A* in English and Math and science.”

Gregorio nodded, as if he’d expect nothing less.

“And I am captain of the soccer team,” Tonio added into a silence that had gone for, as far as he was concerned, far too long.

Again his uncle nodded, so Tonio decided to mix it up a little. “And I have two girlfriends.”

Aha, that got a ghost of a smile. “I think you may be a little young to dally with girls.”

Dally?

Tonio made a mental note to look the word up.

He leaned forward and went eye-to-eye with his uncle. “When did you have your first girlfriend?”

Gregorio blinked. “Unlike you, I was unfortunate enough to attend an all boys school, so it took some time for me to feel comfortable with the opposite sex. I think I was fourteen.”

“Was she pretty?”

The smile was swift, like a lightning strike, and then gone. “Si. But of course she was pretty.”

“Did you kiss her?”

His uncle’s inhale made Tonio grin. “I believe I did, eventually. I seem to remember it took me a long time to work up to it.”

“I kiss girls all the time,” Tonio informed him, his chest puffed out with pride.

Gregorio nodded, not looking in the least bit surprised. “I suppose a man is never too young to get into the swing of things.”

“Auntie Rosie says I must take my time choosing the best chocolate in the box and not gorge myself on too much sweetness or they will rot my teeth along with my respect for women.”

At these words of wisdom, Gregorio’s eyes grew round. “Did she? I am sure Auntie Rosie is a wise women, but I would take her recommendation with a large pinch of salt.”

Tonio nodded. “Si. Papa says I don’t want to catch germs, and I must treat girls as equals.”

Gregorio cleared his throat again. “Si. When a man is an expert in a subject, you must listen well to his advice.”

“When are you coming to visit with us?” Tonio asked the question burning in his belly. There was something about his Uncle Gregorio, the way he held himself apart from others, that bothered Tonio.

“I was about to suggest that you and the family come to visit with me here, at Lake Como. Would you like that?”

“Do you still have the jet ski?”

Si. I purchased a  Laser Pico sailing dingy for you and the twins to learn to sail.”

Tonio’s jaw dropped. “Wow! Grazie!”

When Nico entered, Tonio turned a beaming face to him.

“Papa, when can we visit with Uncle Gregorio?”

After he’d settled Tonio on his knee, Nico sent wide eyes to a grinning Gregorio on the screen.

“What is this?”

Before Gregorio could open his mouth, Tonio jumped in, “He’s bought a sailing dingy for us to learn to sail. Can we go, papa? Can we?”

Nico nodded. “Good idea, Gregorio. It is never too early for children to learn to respect water.”

“I thought during the May school break. Speak to Bronte. I will make the arrangements,” Gregorio said.

“Wow! I can’t wait to tell Luca and Sophia. Grazie, Uncle Gregorio!”

And with that Tonio raced from the room.

“You have made his day,” Nico drawled, more than delighted boy and man were bonding.

“Hmm. The boy is highly intelligent with lots of energy. Learning a new physical skill is smart. It will keep his mind occupied with wind speed and direction, current and buoyancy rather than concerned with kissing girls and the wisdom of Auntie Rosie.”

Nico had to laugh, and then groan. “Do not tell me.”

“Tonio needs exposure to our culture. I will invite your brother Gabriel and his family, too. The boy is wealthy. He will be a target for any unscrupulous huntress who will use beauty and sex to entrap him. Between us we will educate him in our ways and prepare him for the choppy waters of life ahead.”

Nico understood the underlying message loud and clear.

Si. We are Italian.”

Oooooh, I see trouble ahead……

And I have news of the Sneak Peek book – LUDLOW HALL After HAPPY EVER AFTER:

it'sallabouttheromancebyccmackenzie

 

It’s being formatted and the file will soon be available exclusively in my reader library CLICK HERE to join.

I’m busy working on Break The Rules and No Rules and a couple of secret projects, so stay tuned.

Hugs,

Christine X

 

It’s a LUDLOW HALL SNEAK PEEK with Sophia and Emily and relationship advice by Auntie Rosie…

 

fbsophia & Emily & relationship advice via auntie rosie - it's the 2017 sneak peeks

At The Dower House, in Ms Sophia Ferranti’s pink bedroom—

Dressed as fairy princesses in brand new frocks with yards of white tulle (made by auntie Janine) the girls are sitting cross-legged on huge faux fur white rug and practising plaits (taught by Bronte) on the long hair of their new Ayla dolls.

“I’m gonna marry Tonio,” Emily said, the tip of her tongue firmly gripped between her teeth as she tried to fix the hair-tie to the end of her doll’s wonky plait.

Sophia dropped her chin to stare over black plastic framed glasses (empty of glass) to study the stubborn expression on her best friend’s face. “It’ll never happen if you don’t stop giving him stupid googly eyes,” she said in a severe voice.

“Like what?”

“Like this—” Sophia gave a bug-eyed and dropped-jaw demonstration that made Emily frown.

“Do I do that?”

“Yup. Pitiful,” Sophia said, channelling her Auntie Rosie.

Emily huffed a big sigh. “Trouble is, he’s sooooo pretty.”

Sophia cannot hide her shock. “Pretty? You can’t call a boy pretty.”

“Well, I don’t to his face. But I do in my head.” Emily picked up a small brush to stroke through her doll’s blonde hair. She divided the hair into three sections that weren’t quite even. “What should I do then if I can’t look at him or think he’s pretty and I want to marry him?”

Sophia gave her a wide eyed, how-the-hell-do-I-know, look. “I’m only six. Men are a mystery,” she said, again channelling her Auntie Rosie.

“But, you have two brothers, which is more than I do.”

Sophia reckoned that statement was very true and mulled over the worst of her brothers behaviour. “Well, they fart and burp a lot and they think it’s hilarious. And they smell bad if they don’t spend time in the bath or the shower with soap. Mama said they are disgusting little monsters. Papa just laughs and Auntie Rosie says, ‘that’s men for you.'”

Emily made a face of female displeasure. “Okay. Then who would know how I can get Tonio to marry me?”

Sophia grinned widely. “Auntie Rosie!”

***

Thirty minutes later, Rosie’s sitting, legs crossed, on the rug and sipping pretend hot chocolate, with cream and marshmallows, out of a tiny pink plastic cup.

“You rang, my children, and here I am. What can I do for you?”

Knowing that her mama was baby sitting Mila and Eve with Emily’s mummy, Grace, Sophia got straight to the point. “Emily wants to marry Tonio. I told her to quit with the googly eyes. She does this—” Her demo brought a flush of sheer mortification to her best friend’s freckled cheeks.

Brown eyes dancing, Rosie studied the girls. “Well, you’re both a bit young to think of marriage. But, you only have to look at Bronte and me as excellent role models.”

“How come?” Sophia asked.

Rosie leaned in to her niece and gave her big, big eyes. “‘Cos WE rock, that’s how come. Way back before we even thought of a relationship with a man, WE were financially independent—that’s a key step in getting the man you want. Never, ever look like you want to get married to the man you want to marry or he’ll run so fast, dust will rise behind him, like the yellow-livered coward he is.”

Rightly suspicious of this advice, Sophia gave her favourite Aunt narrow-eyes. “How does that work? Surely girls need to be clear about what we want. Papa’s always saying that men are not mind readers—” she stopped when her Auntie Rosie pointed two forefingers in her face.”

“Aha! That’s just a thing a man says when they Do Not Mean It. Listen up, buttercups, and listen well to the advice of one who has been there, done it, and got the man of her dreams. 1. Men are hunters. If we make the hunt too easy…” She turned to look at a wide-eyed Emily. “By giving them googly eyes and big sighs that tell them we think they are awesome—then they’ve won us without the hunt. This is not good juju to Karma and the Universe. 2. Do not look to men to make you happy, be happy with you first.”

“Emily’s already told Tonio, about twenty times, that she’s gonna marry him. Has she failed before she’s even a woman?” Sophia asked, desperately worried about her best friend’s future happiness.

Rosie sent poor Emily an are-you-kidding-me face, but when the little girl teared-up, she pulled her on her lap for a cuddle. “It’s okay. We’ve all done daft stuff, especially me. All is not lost. Just promise me that from this moment on, no more googly eyes, no more telling him you’re gonna marry him or how wonderful he is. If you really, really want Tonio (personally speaking I think it’s better to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a man you can live with) then you need a Grand Plan.”

“Yeah,” Sophia agreed. “You gotta stop with the googly eyes.”
Emily stared at Rosie with big blue eyes, and clasped her little hands to her heaving bosom. “I KNOW I’m gonna marry Tonio,” she breathed and pressed a fist to her chest. “In here.”

Rosie took a deep inhale, nodded once. “Okay. But if I were you I’d take Sophia’s advice—never thought I’d ever say those words—and definitely stop the googly eyes.”

“And I kiss lots of boys,” Sophia said proudly.

Her Auntie Rosie turned to her. “So I’ve heard, and you need to stop kissing lots of boys.”

“Why?”

“I bet most of them have bad breath because their tooth brushing and flossing skills are not up to speed. And again, it means they haven’t had to fight for you. Kissing them first gives them all the power and it makes them think you’re ‘easy’ and that they are not special. Men always need to feel as if they are special. Give them a peck on the cheek ONLY if they deserve it.”

Sophia and Emily took time to think over advice which made no sense.

Emily turned to Rosie. “So, what should I do to make Tonio feel special?”

Rosie blinked. “Easy. Ignore him.”

“But, that would be rude,” Emily said.

“I don’t mean never speak to him ever again, and definitely respond politely if he asks you a question. What I mean is don’t volunteer information like you want to marry him. In fact, the best thing you can do the next time you see him is to say to Sophia that you’ve decided to become the next leader of the free world, which means no marriage and definitely no babies.”

“This is all soooooo confusing,” poor Emily said in a tone that made it clear she had absolutely no wish to be the leader of the free anything.

“Okay. Lemme give you an example— Tonio is surrounded by girls who flick their hair and give him googly eyes, correct?” When the little girls agreed, Rosie continued, “so, it is important that you, my beautiful Emily, stand out from the crowd. Remember what you and Sophia did two weeks before Christmas?”

It took a while, but Sophia caught on, kind of. “We wrapped presents for the little children who are poor. And papa put them in the big Ludlow Hall box of special Christmas presents.”

“Yup. And I saw the expression on Tonio’s face when you were tying the ribbon on the presents, Emily. He was impressed.”

Emily frowned. “But I didn’t do it to impress Tonio!”

Rose beamed in delight. “Of course you didn’t. You did it because you care about people less fortunate than yourself because YOU, my dear Emily, are the real deal. Men… I mean, boys, like girls who put others before themselves. It makes you very interesting compared to other girls who only care about what their hair looks like or stuff like that.”

Sophia turned to Emily and again gazed at her over her glasses. “What do you really want to do when you grow up? I want to work for Save The Childrens, and papa said I can do anything I want, if I work hard, because I am Italian.”
Rosie laughed. “You don’t need to be Italian, but I’m sure it helps. I always wanted to run my own business and make awesome wedding cakes. We had a lot of ups and downs, but your mama and I did it. And we did it all by ourselves and before we met your papa and I married Alexander.”

“I want to be a doctor,” Emily murmured after a while, then her blue eyes went anxious. “But, I don’t know if I’m clever enough. I hate sums.”

“I’ll help you,” Sophia said, immediately on-side to help her best friend realize her hopes and dreams.

“There you go,” Rosie said, utterly thrilled with both of them. “Teamwork. Be yourself with boys and not like the other girls. Talk about your hopes and dreams—except do NOT talk about marriage or babies—and don’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

Sophia leapt up to grab Rosie in a big hug. “Thank you, Auntie Rosie. No more kissing boys.”

Rosie hugged her back and headed for the door to spread the good news. “Then my work is done. I hear my daughter… Laters, my favourite girls.”

The girls settled back to work on their dolls, and continued in companionable silence until…

“Did you get everything she said?” Emily asked Sophia.

“Most of it. If you want to marry Tonio then you need to act as if you don’t want to marry him. Be polite, but not too nice to him.”

“It’s hard.”

“I don’t think we should worry about it. We’re only six. Let’s go get a cookie and milk.”

***

Meanwhile, in the family/kitchen/dining space, Rosie’s feeding baby Mila and chatting to Bronte and Grace when Nico and Tonio and Luca arrive home. By the amount of soil on the boys clothes and the skinned knees, they’ve been at soccer practice.

When Emily and Sophia enter and politely ask for a cookie and milk and are given permission, Tonio kicks off his soccer boots and places them in the mud room. He slumps into a chair at the kitchen table and turns to beam a big toothy smile at his sister and her best friend.

“While you’re at it, get me a glass of milk and a cookie, Emily,” he demanded.

Without saying a word, Emily pours one glass and takes it to her place at the table to sit next to a Sophia who’s watching the scene play out.

Emily took her time choosing a cookie from the plate before catching Tonio’s eye. “You didn’t say please, so you can get milk yourself.”

When Tonio blinked like a confused owl, Auntie Rosie bit down hard on her bottom lip to hide a smile.

“Manners, Tonio,” Nico said in his deep growly voice.

“And you didn’t wash your hands,” Bronte reminded the boy.

With a frown, Tonio slunk into the boot room to wash his hands. By the time he returned and had helped himself to a milk and a cookie, he studied Emily with interest as she nibbled on a cookie. “What did you two get up to today?” he asked.

Before Sophia could respond, Emily lifted her eyes to his and held. “We were talking about our future careers. I’m going to be a doctor.”

When Tonio’s eyes bugged out of his head, Sophia added, “And I’m going to work for Save The Childrens, and I’m gonna help Emily with her sums because we’re independent women.”

Since there wasn’t much Tonio could say in response to that statement, he said nothing, but watched his sister and her best friend, hand-in-hand, walk out of the room.

“Good lord,” Emily’s mummy, Grace, said to Rosie, “What on earth was all that about?”

With an eye on Nico and Tonio who were discussing the eyesight, or lack thereof, of the referee during soccer practice, Rosie popped a quick kiss on her daughter’s slippery black curls. “Just girl stuff. We can never begin too early to talk about girl stuff.”

“Emily’s growing up,” Bronte said. “I’m hoping it rubs off on Sophia.”

“She’s agreed to stop kissing boys,” Rosie told them.

Bronte stared at her with wide emerald eyes. “Wow. How did you get her to do that?”

“We had a discussion about self-respect and female independence.”

Grace blinked. “And here I thought they were up there busy practising how to braid hair.”

“That, too. They’re girls. They can think of more than one thing at a time.”

When Tonio cosied on the couch next to her to stroke a gentle finger down baby Mila’s hot cheek, Rosie eyed him. There was no doubt at all the boy was a true Ferranti male and a future breaker of hearts.

She nudged him with her elbow. “So, apart from being a future Ronaldo, what do you want to do when you grow up?”

Still stroking the baby, Tonio’s mouth curved. “I want to be James Bond.”

Rosie rolled her eyes. “Figures.”

Nico moved in to scrub his knuckles over the boy’s cropped hair. “An Italian James Bond.”

FINE

And so we are on to the beginning of the 2017 sneak peeks, with more to come from the girls!

By reader request, I’m working on the edits of a book of the entire 2016 sneak peeks (which are coming in at approx 50,000 words). The book will not be available for sale, but it will be exclusively available for readers in my ‘reader library’ H has set up HERE. I’ll let you know when the book’s in the reader library.

The reader library will have exclusive Ludlow Hall short stories for readers who love the series – I’m working on a Nico and Alexander short, before Nico met Bronte, and boys will be boys! So sign up to the reader library and check your spam filter so you don’t miss a story.

I’m also working on the final edit for the next Golddigger short story, GLORY (which is looking like it will be a longer read than forty minutes. I’m loving this couple so much I don’t want it to end.) I’ll give you the pre-order links as soon as I have them. I’m looking at 14th of April for this release.

And I’m also beavering away at Break The Rules, too.

I want to thank everyone who’s reached out to me about H. He had his hospital appointment cancelled at the last minute due to an emergency which had the Consultant’s entire clinic cancelled. But, he received another appointment this morning for Monday 27th March, so we’re keeping our fingers crossed. He’s looking really well, which I feel is a good sign of nothing sinister going on. I hope.

Christine X

It’s Monday and the sun is shining and it’s another slice of life with the Ferranti family…

 

jimmy-chew

Happy Monday, awesome peeps!

The sun is shining. The weather man’s crystal ball reckons frosts and crisp grass is coming in my future. I love this time of year. In this business, things ebb and flow. Seems this author is in a state of flow. Long may it last.

Here’s the latest family saga with Nico, Bronte and their family, which has a new member.

Do I hear an ‘Awwwwww’ for Jimmy Chew.  Get it?

***

It’s Saturday morning in the family-kitchen at The Dower House…

Dressed in soft jeans and their favorite T-shirts, the kids are busy completing homework tasks at the kitchen table. Tonio helps Luca with basic math. He’s doing a great job. Bronte checks the message from Nico on her cell phone, bites back a smile. Her heart melts at the picture he’s sent. Aww, how cute. How gorgeous. Her eyes mist as she taps out her response. Boy, oh boy. Her kids are gonna go absolutely mental when they see their papa’s surprise. Over the past couple of week they’d weighed up the pros and cons. The decision is made. The Ferranti’s are about to have a new addition to their family.

“Have you tidied your bedrooms?” she asks. Heads lift showcasing three guilty faces. Again, she bites back a smile. Little monkeys. “Well, I suggest you get right on it. I want every single piece of Lego in the box, Luca Ferranti.”

Her beloved boy makes a horrible face. His dark curls bounce as he shakes his head. “But, mama. I’m building a space station.”

“Then use the table and not the floor. Papa hurt his foot this morning,” Bronte says. And the air had turned blue with a roar of expletives in rough Italian. Words which made Tonio run for cover.

Tonio grins at the memory. “Si. He was so mad.”

“He was hopping on one foot. He said bad words,” Sophia says, tossing her papa under the bus. She closes her spelling book, tucks her pencil in her beloved Frozen pencil case with a picture of Anna on the front. Bronte reckons her daughter and her best pal must have watched the movie hundreds of times and never tire of singing the songs.

“Hmm,” Bronte says, eyeing Sophia. “Last time I looked you had the entire contents of your dressing up box all over the carpet, including play makeup. I want everything put away nice and tidy in the right places. Capisce?”

Sophia lifts her chin. “You are not Italian.”

Sophia’s emerald eyes dance as her mama bends to go nose to nose with her. “I’ll have you know, Missy, I am an honorary Italian and that makes me very speshul. And since I am the boss around here, you will jump to it!” She plants a kiss on her daughter’s little snub nose.

Sophia grins and rolls her eyes. “Okay. Okay. Do we get a treat for tidying our rooms?” she asks, as usual pushing her luck with her mama.

Bronte fold her arms and gives a grinning Tonio, Luca and Sophia big wide eyes. “Well, you’ll never know until you do it, will you?”

“Are you gonna give us another room inspection?” Luca growls, remembering what happened the last time his room failed a spot inspection by Nico. No candy for a whole week.

Bronte checks the time on the clock on the wall. “Well, you have exactly twenty minutes before the Big Boss arrives home, so if I were you I’d make the most of the time instead of standing here debating with me.”

As her children slink out of the room, she shakes her head. Good God, a snail with a limp moves faster than those three. When she has the room to herself, she grins as she dances a merry jig on the spot. Omigod, they are going to go crazy. She can’t wait for Nico to arrive home with his precious little package.

Twenty minutes later…

The sound of a car on gravel has Bronte slip on her shoes and head for the kitchen door. Nico exits his shiny black Range Rover. When he spots her, his smile is wide and wicked.

He cranes his neck to look beyond her. “Where are they?”

“Tidying their rooms. You’d have thought I was sending them down a coal mine as slave labor.”

His laugh makes her smile. Then her smile goes all soft and trembly as Nico lifts the pet carrier from the passenger seat. Inside the box a beautiful little face peeks out at her and sniffs Nico’s fingers as he opens the lid and lifts out the most gorgeous ball of fluff she has ever seen.

Bronte’s fingertips press on her lips. “Oh, Nico, he is the cutest thing. Our very own Bacon Freeze.”

Si,” Nico grins as the tiny ball of fluff licks his neck and chin. “He is eight months old, house trained, and smart. The shelter staff are sad to see him go.” He places the wriggling pup into Bronte’s outstretched arms.

“Poor baby,” she whispers as she presses soft kisses on the clipped fur. “Poor little thing.”

Nico’s face goes serious. “Si. His elderly owner had a heart attack and passed away. The puppy has been in the shelter for six weeks. He needs a home and plenty of love.”

“And who’s a beautiful boy, then?” she says to the delirious pup.

Grazie, cara,” Nico says as he opens the trunk to remove a doggy bed, and box of essentials which include food and water bowls, toys, a selection of chews, dry dog food and a leash in bright red leather.

“I’m talking to the dog,” his wife says, tossing him a saucy look. “It’s been a long time since you were a boy.”

His response is to drop a hot kiss on her mouth. “You sit with him the family room. I’ll get the kids.”

She bites down hard on her bottom lip. “Nico, they are going to go nuts.”

Si. I cannot wait.”

 

 

Meanwhile, Sophia is folding her dressing up clothes. Shoes and bags go in the big wooden box first. Then the dresses and then the accessories, as her auntie Rosie calls the myriad of plastic bracelets and necklaces and tiaras and magic wands. And while she’s at it, she lines up all her dolls on her bed. One has a plastic shoe missing, so she bellies beneath her bed to grab it. When she’s fitting the shoe to the foot, her papa pokes his head around the door.

“Sophia, cara. Mama wants you in the kitchen.”

“I’m nearly finished. Is this my room inspection?”

Nico cranes his neck around the door and scans the room. He holds out his hand for hers. “Good job.”

With Sophia’s hand in his, Nico enters Luca’s room to find him and Tonio flying the Millenium Falcon from Star Wars. “Come down stairs, mama has something for you,” he says to the boys.

Luca makes a face. “I haven’t finished yet.”

“Do it later,” Nico says, shocking both boys into silence. When have they ever been told to, ‘do it later’ when it came to cleaning their bedrooms? Never.

Luca shoots his papa a suspicious look. “Are we in trouble?”

Sheesh. How hard is it to get these kids down stairs for their surprise? Nico shakes his head. “No.”

“What is it then?” Luca asks in a sulky voice. The boys trail behind Nico and Sophia as they go down the stairs. “You’re acting funny.”

Nico turns to his youngest son. “How am I acting funny?”

“You’ve gotta funny look in your eye as if you’re gonna laugh or cry.”

By this time they’ve reached the door to the family-kitchen-living space. Bronte is sitting on the couch with the puppy on her lap. When Sophia makes a gasp, Nico releases her hand and grabs his phone from his jean pocket. Eyes like saucers, Sophia takes hesitant steps towards her mama, with a silent Tonio and Luca hot on her heels. Sophia drops to her knees.

“Who does it belong to?” she whispers, her little hand trembling as she strokes the soft, downy fur.

“He belongs to us,” her mama whispers, her emerald eyes swimming.

“He’s mine?” Sophia whispers.

“No,” her papa says. “He belongs to the Ferranti family, to everyone.”

“Wow,” Luca whispers. “If I’d known we were gonna get a puppy, I’d have tidied my room weeks ago.”

Tonio sinks to the edge of the couch and leans into Bronte. “He’s really cute. What’s his name?”

“Well, his previous owner called him Jimmy,” she says as she hands him the pup.

Sophia turns anxious eyes on her mama. “Why couldn’t they keep him?”

“His owner was very sick and couldn’t take care of him. He sadly passed away, so Jimmy needs a new home. What do you think, will we keep him here with us?”

All three children nod, and when Jimmy barks and wriggles to be free, they all laugh.

And so the Ferranti family have a new addition to the household.

“I think Jimmy’s a boring name,” Luca says, gently stroking the puppy.

Nico starts to laugh. “What’s so funny, papa?” Sophia says.

Nico moves to sit. He slides his arm around Bronte’s slim waist. “His full name is Jimmy Chew. And with mama’s love of shoes, I felt he was meant to belong to us.”

Bronte gives him big eyes. “I don’t believe it. You made that up.”

“No. I promise you. His owner named him Jimmy Chew because, like you, she adored Mr. Choo’s shoes.”

“Wow.” Bronte slides her arm around his waist and cosies in. “Rosie would say it’s karma, baby. Karma.”

Si. I understand the workings of the Universe. I am Italian.”

 

FINE

 

Awwwwww. I want a Bacon Freeze (as Sophia calls a Bischon Frise). H says no because he’d be the one to do the walking and pooper scooper. But I still want one.

AND we have Golddigger book two, MILLIE, on Friday.  Every Friday all the way up to Christmas you’ll have a 30-40 minute read (depending on how fast you get through it) Golddigger story to keep you going. I’m having the Best time writing these. They’re great fun, and I hope you enjoy them.

Love and hugs,

Christine X

 

 

 

Exclusive SEAN excerpt and a video….

iBOOKS pre-order

Greetings my darlings,

And how cool is the video? Can you tell I’m getting down with technology. I’m gonna have a CC MACKENZIE youtube channel. I know, how cool for school is that? LOL!

My amazing daughter is helping me with a few things we’ve had on the back burner for months, but are now coming to fruition, including a video reader/author question and answer session. So if you can think of any burning questions to ask, now is the time. Stick them in the comments section below or message me or send up smoke signals – I will respond.

Want a sneak peek of SEAN?

Then read on:

***

Katherine slapped cold cream on her face, plucked tissues from the box on the dresser, and wiped her makeup from her skin. Removing her eye makeup took time. It had been applied by Birdie with a heavy hand to allow people at the back of the room to see her properly.

Behind her Birdie was helping Ellie out of her flesh colored strapless bra.

“You’re burnin’ up,” Birdie said to the girl in a sharp tone that caught Katherine’s attention.

She spun to study one of her best Golddiggers.

Ellie was an all-American blonde bombshell.

The girl did look flushed, her eyes a glassy blue.

“You sick?” Katherine asked.

Ellie nodded.

“Feel like crap. Took a couple of pills before the show, but every bone’s aching.”

“It isn’t the Grey Goose flu, is it?” Katherine wondered, her voice sharp as she studied Ellie.

Ellie glared at her. “For crissake, I never touch vodka and my drink was spiked, once.”

“Just checking.”

Non. She ees seek.” Pearl, a petite Golddigger from Paris, placed the back of her hand on Ellie’s forehead and clicked her tongue. “Mon dieu, you are hot. Let us hope it is not ze flu. You need a bath, a painkiller, and bed. Tout de suite!”

“That’s why you threw your panties into the crowd instead of to me, I knew there was something wrong,” Birdie said as she helped Ellie dress. “Let’s get you out of here.”

In no time, all the girls were bundled up in jeans and sweaters.

And just as they were about to leave, a knock at the door heralded the arrival of two outrageously good-looking men. They were both tall, built, and dressed in immaculate dark suits with pristine white shirts opened at the neck. Katherine, unfortunately, was well acquainted with one; the other was super model Noah Blake. And at the moment, Noah was staring hard at a very sick Ellie who stood and smiled and nodded as she did her duty and shook his hand.

As Ellie left with Birdie and the rest of the girls, Noah was hot on their heels, his eyes glued to Ellie’s back. Seemed her Golddigger had found herself a rabid fan, which left Katherine alone with a man she hadn’t seen in years. One who’d always tied her emotions in knots, and these days, a man who regarded her as public enemy number one.

Her stomach knotted as she took a good long look at the narrowed eyes, the set face, the firm line of his mouth.

Well, time had certainly been kind to Sean Gallagher.

He looked the picture of power and authority in his expertly tailored suit. To call him good-looking would be a pitiful description.

As the camera well knew, the guy was devastatingly handsome.

Trouble was, he knew it.

Unblinking eyes captured hers, and held.

Her pulse raced; her mouth went dry.

God, it was like being trapped in a blue tractor beam.

It cost her, but she dragged her eyes away as scenes, good and bad, from long ago flew into her mind to send it spinning down memory lane.

“Hi, Sean,” she said.

Of course she’d known he’d be at the wedding. His friendship and best man status with Marc Atelier had come as something of a surprise, which was putting it mildly. Seemed the guys had met years ago, long before Marc met Elena, and become firm friends.

Normally, Katherine didn’t believe in coincidences. But, coincidences happened in life all the time.

Sean was well over six feet tall.

Big.

Bigger than she remembered, with wide shoulders, narrow waist, and a flat belly.

Her eyes lifted to his. She’d always loved his eyes, a shocking ice-blue. The kind that seemed to see right into a person’s soul.

However, at the moment his gaze didn’t look friendly, and not once did that wonderful mouth crack a smile. Rather, he pursed his lips in a thin, hard line.

His hair was still jet black, cut in a modern style, short at the sides, longer on top, and he wore his signature carefully cut and trimmed five o’clock shadow.

Seemed after six years he was still bitter, and how pathetic was that?

She’d been eighteen, and when it came to men, especially this man, she’d been too stupid to live.

“Long time no see,” Sean said in a low tone that was one click up from a growl.

“Years,” she responded in a clipped tone.

Now, he curved his full, sexy lips in a smirk as his eyes lingered on the V of her thin silk wrap. She folded her arms against her body’s pitiful reaction to a man who couldn’t stand the sight of her. He’d always affected her this way, made her tongue-tied and nervous, when, in truth, she was anything but.

“Bit of a step-down from the Royal Ballet, don’t you think?”

The fact he was beginning their conversation with an insult shouldn’t have hurt, but it did.

Then she wondered why she was surprised?

In the past, when they’d been young and before his brother came between them he’d been full of fun and not the sort of person, she’d have thought, to hold a grudge. He’d changed—and that change had a sliver of disappointment in him curl in her belly.

At one time, their late grandmothers had been best friends. They’d lived next door to each other in Dublin. After Katherine’s grandmother passed away and Joanne Kennedy had taken her daughter to live the dream of ballet in England, they’d lost touch with Sean’s family. Katherine and her mother had finally joined her older brother and his family to settle in Old Ludlow, where they’d lived ever since. And of course, since then, all her dreams of ballet had turned to dust. Not that she’d had second thoughts. Creating The Golddiggers had opened more doors to her than ballet alone ever could. She’d never regretted her decision. Plus, as far as she was concerned, she had nothing to be ashamed of, and if Sean Gallagher thought he could rain on her parade, he had another think coming. Namely, a boot up the ass.

“I had my reasons,” she said, determined to give this man no cause to sneer at her life choices.

“Sure you did. Maybe you just weren’t good enough.”

The blow of his open hostility hit like an open handed slap to the face.

Her cheeks might be hot, but Katherine blinked—held her chin high.

“We’ll never know, will we?” she said.

His blue eyes went so cold, she shivered.

“You’ve gone from living like a nun to courtesan in seven years. Bit of a departure,” Sean said, his voice low.

Not once did her eyes leave his. She refused to back down from the challenge he’d tossed between them.

“I don’t regret my life choices.”

“I’m sure you don’t. You were a good actress then; you’re an Oscar winner now. With you it’s all smoke and mirrors. Always was, always will be.”

When Birdie pushed through the door, Sean moved past her and walked away.

And all the while, Katherine’s heart was going crazy against her ribs.

“Sheesh. That’s one helluva bitter man,” Birdie said, tipping her head out the door to watch Sean.

Katherine’s eyes narrowed as she stood behind her dresser and stared down the corridor at his retreating back.

A boiling anger bubbled inside her, so intense it made her fist her hands.

Birdie turned to her, studied her face, snapped her gum. “What on earth did you do to him?” she asked.

Katherine wished she knew, because whatever had set him off like that had to be more than that one kiss years ago.

“I didn’t do anything to him.”

***

Not long now until SEAN is live – the 30th September.

Don’t forget you can pre-order him HERE.

Any questions you want to ask about the writing process, creativity, or what’s coming, leave a comment below.

Big hug

Christine X

IT’S ANOTHER SLICE OF LUDLOW LIFE … This week it’s Rosie and The Golddiggers …

 

rosiegolddiggersliceofludlowlife

Bronte is picking up Rosie. They’re on their way to Ludlow Hall. It’s early evening and the week before Elena and Marc Atelier’s Big Day. Marc is the head of Ferranti Security, and Elena’s organizing a huge surprise for Marc’s stag party at Ludlow Hall – a live performance from Miz. Pousse-Café (a.k.a her cousin and maid-of-honor, the famous Irish showgirl, Katherine Mary Kennedy)  and four of her GOLDDIGGER burlesque troupe. Tonight is a rehearsal behind locked doors, and Elena, Bronte and Rosie have been invited to attend.

*A beaming Rosie waves to Bronte from her front door. She looks a million dollars in a fire-engine red party dress and heels. She kisses her man and baby girl goodbye. Alexander gives his sister big eyes as his wife skips over to the car, her inky curls bouncing on her shoulders*

“I can’t believe I’m gonna meet the famous Pousse-Café and her amazing Golddiggers,” Rosie sings as she clicks the seatbelt over her lap. She turns to a Bronte who’s wearing one of her signature sleeveless sheaths, this one a black mini and showcasing fabulous legs. “Did you see them at the Oscars? Didn’t you just love their black leather ensemble, the thigh high boots, the makeup, the hair? They brought the house down. Alexander’s tongue was on the floor he was panting so hard, dirty boy. At the end of their raunchy routine he jumped me right on the couch.”

“Puleeeeeeze, that’s my big brother you’re talking about. I don’t wanna go there.”

Unrepentant, Rosie gives a happy sigh in remembrance. “Three orgasms that night.”

“Eww, my brother, Rosie!”

But Rosie isn’t listening. “I’ve always dreamed of being a Golddigger.”

“Yeah? You’ve always dreamt of lots of things. Well, you’ll need to grow about another twelve inches,” says her friend with ruthless logic.

Rosie heaves another happy sigh. “Maybe they can teach me a few bedroom moves. You know, to keep our sex life fresh and new.”

Bronte turns to look at her, but Rosie’s miles away. “Rosemary Margaret Ludlow,” she says in a tone that makes Rosie jump. “I do not want to discuss my brother’s sex life. We clear?”

Rosie hunches her shoulders. “Spoil sport. But I’m gonna pick up a few moves.”

“Go for it.”

Rosie turns to grin at her bestie. “Maybe you could learn a few things.” When Bronte simply stares straight ahead, Rosie makes a face. “Then again maybe not. I bet Nico’s gotta lotta moves.”

Bronte’s mouth goes all prissy. “I’m saying nothing that might incriminate me.”

“Show off.”

“I’ve even got my Golddigger name – Rosie La Fleur.” She turns to a smiling Bronte. “And you could be Bronte Bon-Bon.”

Bronte rolls her eyes.

*By this time they’re outside Elena’s coach house in the grounds of Ludlow Hall. Bronte toots the horn. The door opens to reveal Elena and Marc in a clinch*

“Aww, look at them,” Rosie says. “I well remember those days.”

Bronte frowns. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight? Alexander adores you.”

They greet Elena as she slips into the back seat.

“I know he does,” Rosie says. “But variety is the spice of life.”

“What’s all this?” Elena asks.

“Don’t ask,” Bronte suggests.

“I wanna be a Golddigger,” Rosie says, turning to grin at Elena. “Love the dress. Slutty but tasteful. You’re Golddigger name might be Elena Lawless.”

“Ha ha. I love it. Marc loves this dress,” Elena says.

“I bet he does,” Rosie agrees. “Do you think we’ll get to dance with the troupe?”

Elena shrugs. “If you don’t ask you don’t get. It’s a run-through before tomorrow night, we’ll see how the time goes.”

“She wants them to show her bedroom moves,” Bronte says.

“Well, they’ve nailed the grinds and pelvic thrusts,” Elena says.

*Conversation ends as they park the car and make their way into Ludlow Hall. They approach the arched oak double door entrance to the Grand Ballroom*

“I think it’s amazing you’ve organized this surprise for Marc’s stag party,” Rosie says to Elena.

The bride-to-be’s eyes glitter with a wicked excitement. She cackles like an evil witch. “Just wish I could be there to see his face, but no cell phones are permitted to film the show. It’s a shame, but Katherine’s pretty strict about protecting the Golddiggers privacy and brand.”

In front of the doors stand two men in sharp black suits, white shirts and black ties. They’re built like Sumo wrestlers. Unblinking, they eye Bronte, Rosie and an Elena who’s grinning like loon. “I’m Katherine’s cousin Elena,” she says.

A doorman mutters into a microphone attached to his wrist, listens to a voice in his ear. He nods, opens the door, and the girls slide past. The doors close behind them with a definite click. Rosie’s Bambi eyes go wide as she takes in the changes to the space. The vast room smells of lemon oil, and fresh flowers and something else she can’t put her finger on. Towards the back of the room a stage is assembled, the apparatus below hidden from view by black silk fabric pinned around edge. The back wall is covered in black silk, too. Situated before the stage are a collection of round tables and chairs covered with red silk.

On the mirrored wall opposite the stage resides a gleaming bar, at the moment empty of waiting staff. Rosie turns in a circle. “Wow,” she whispers. “This place has got a Cabaret vibe going on.”

“Well spotted,” a woman’s voice calls from behind the stage, and out walks Miz. Pousse-Café herself. Chin held high, posture perfect, Katherine’s wearing sheer black tights, showcasing the longest legs Rosie’s ever seen in her life, beneath a skimpy black leotard with shoelace straps. Like the rest of her, all long and lean, her arms are beautifully toned, like a ballet dancer’s.

When she clocks Katherine’s high firm breasts, Rosie immediately has boob envy. The girl has the tiniest waist she’s ever seen on a female, and hair the color of ink tied back in a high tail which falls in a slippery river to her waist. Her creamy face is smooth and blemish free, the tone makes her large brown-black eyes pop, and her lips are full and pouty. On her feet, she’s wearing black leather tap shoes. Just seeing the famous showgirl in the flesh makes Rosie realize that her title as one of the most beautiful women in the world is absolutely deserved. In fact the girl is so stunning Rosie takes a step back. But Katherine’s high squeal of delight as she hugs her cousin Elena makes Rosie grin. Any lingering feeling of insecurity around such perfection simply melts away. Hell, the girl might be famous and gorgeous, but she’s just like everyone else and adores her family.

“Omigod,” Elena cries, shifting to hold her cousin’s hands wide and simply take her all in. “Look at you. You look fabulous, dahling.”

“And you look beyond happy,” Katherine says, the soft sing song of Ireland in her voice. “Is your man good to you? Does he treat you well?”

“Marc treats her like a Queen,” Bronte says, and moves in to air kiss Katherine’s cheeks.

Katherine’s dark eyes find Rosie, and those black brows rise in question. Her full mouth curves. She offers Rosie her hand. “And who have we here? You look like one of the little people. A fairy perhaps?”

Rosie steps in to take Katherine’s hand, and beams up into her face. “Rosie Ludlow. Elena’s friend and Bronte’s sister-in-law.”

Katherine’s eyes go wide. “So you’re married to the lovely Alexander?”

“For my many sins,” Rosie says in a long suffering tone which makes Katherine grin.

They turn to the sound of feet wearing tap shoes. Four stunning women in matching tights and leotards enter, closely followed by an elderly lady bearing a music box and a sheaf of papers.

“Ah,” Katherine says. “And here’s Birdie, she who must be obeyed, and part of my troupe. Ellie, Millie, Sukki and Pearl, say hello to my cousin Elena, Bronte Ferranti and Rosie Ludlow.” The girls shake hands. Then Katherine put her arm around the shoulders of a woman who appears so frail, she looks as if a strong puff of wind might blow her over. Her baby fine hair’s dyed bright orange, a color that matches her lipstick. Her brows are drawn in black pencil. Sharp beady eyes set in a wrinkled face take their time to study Elena, Bronte, and then land on Rosie. Katherine continues, “And this is Miz Birdie, the boss of everyone.” There seems to be a scent of mint and lemons surrounding the girls.

Birdie digs a sharp elbow into Katherine ribs and rolls her eyes. “God knows you need someone to keep you in line,” she drawls in a New Yawk accent that thrills Rosie to bits.

“Are you all from America?” Rosie asks.

A tall blonde who looks as if she could be the next Miss USA steps forward. “Yes, ma’am. Except for Pearl who’s from Paris. I’m from Texas. Ellie’s from the Big Apple, and Sukki’s from New Orleans.”

“Wow,” Rosie says, her eyes wide. “Do you have to be tall to be a Golddigger?”

“The girls range from five nine to five eleven,” Katherine says. “I’m five ten.”

“Me, I am the smallest,” Pearl says in her soft French accent. A dimple pops in her cheek.

“Okay, enough shootin’ the breeze. Let’s get this show on the road,” Birdie claps her hands and on cue all the Golddiggers skip onto the stage and take their positions to pose for the music. “Let’s see if we can get the bend and snap right, shall we? We need some ass from you, Ellie.”

*Bronte, Rosie and Elena sink onto chairs around a table to watch the show. It doesn’t take Rosie long to learn that a Golddigger works like a dog. If Miz Birdie isn’t one hundred per cent happy, they start again. By the end of their Putting On The Ritz tap routine, Rosie’s toes are tapping. The Golddiggers grab bottles of still water and towels to dab their neck and cheeks*

Birdie marches right up to Sukki and pulls a face. “Is your shoulder still givin’ you trouble?”

Sukki rolls her right shoulder forward and back, and drawls, “F’sure. It stiffened up on the flight. It’ll be fine.”

Birdie pulls out a little black book, jots a note. “Massage first thing tomorrow.”

“Yes’m,” Sukki says.

An hour and a glass of wine later and Rosie eyes are all starry. She’s living in a wonderful daydream where she’s up there with the Golddiggers strutting her stuff and singing her little heart out. Those girls can sing, dance, tease and make an audience laugh and cry. They’re simply amazing.

*By the time Bronte drops Rosie back home, Rosie’s head is in the clouds. Man, what she’d give to be a Golddigger. It was a shame she didn’t get a chance to dance with them, but the girls had given her plenty of ideas*

Rosie enters the huge barn conversion she calls home. The house is quiet. Mila’s a good baby and sound asleep. From the family room the sound of the TV turned low and something else has her tip toe through the dining hall. And there lying on his back with his mouth open and snoring like a freight train is the light of her life. Alexander’s wearing his habitual soft jeans and comfy T-shirt. Bare feet hang over the end of the couch. His hair’s all messed up and he has that I-need-a-shave-look she loves so much. Taking care not to make a sound, she slips off her heels, turns and skips up the stairs to their bedroom. She makes short work of her dress, strapless bra and panties. The box of special underwear she ordered from Agent Provocateur is so exquisite that for a moment she simply strokes gentle fingertips over the boned satin and lace corset in black silk. The tiny panties are thing of beauty and the stockings are so shiny and smooth. By the time she’s back downstairs and positioning herself just right with her back against the door frame, her knee bent with her foot on the frame, and both hands held high above her head, Rosie’s ready for anything.

“Alexaaaaaaaander,” she purrs.

Nothing.

“Alexaaaaaaaander,” she sings, louder.

Nothing.

If anything his snoring grows louder.

Her eyes narrow into slits.

She moves to loosen up, tosses her hair back a couple of times, and again assumes the position.

“ALEXANDER!”

In a scissor kick he’s sitting, one hand reaching for the baby monitor while the other scrubs his face. “What? What?”

“Alexaaaaaaaander,” Rosie sings, and reckons it’ll be fourth time lucky.

The way his jaw drops and his eyes go too wide when he clocks her outfit is everything she’s ever dreamt of.

“Whoa, baby,” he says as he stands and moves towards her. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“I learned some moves tonight,” she whispers as his big hands grip her waist and pull her close.

“Yeah?” In a smooth move he bends to hoist her over his shoulder and makes tracks for the stairs and their bedroom. When she pummels his back, he smacks her hard on the ass.

“Ow!”

“You just hang on there, baby. I’ve gotta few good moves myself.” He enters their bedroom, kicks the door closed.

 

 

 

FINE (Italian for The End)

 

I know. I know. But no sex on the blog.

In SEAN we attend Elena and Marc’s wedding, and catch up with the lives of the usual suspects in Ludlow Hall.

This week I’ve been an editing/proof reading demon, and more Golddigger stories will be placed on pre-order soon, so keep an eye on this space.

Don’t forget you can grab SEAN and ELLIE on pre-order  HERE 

 

More Ludlow Life coming next week!

Love and hugs,

Christine X

 

ANOTHER SLICE OF LUDLOW LIFE …

Rosie & Brontelunch

Hello, my darlings,

It’s a bank holiday here in the UK, so I’m a leeeeeetle bit late with the Ludlow Hall sneak peek.

Here’s Rosie and Bronte doing what they do best:

Their baby girls sound asleep in their strollers, Bronte and Rosie are having a girlfriend lunch at Café Roma in the ancient market town of Old Ludlow . . .

*Rosie’s not a happy bunny. Wearing a face like a smacked arse, she’s pushing a limp lettuce leaf around her plate. When she heaves yet another deep sigh, Bronte tries hard not to laugh*

Bronte’s digging into a big juicy steak and fries and shoves the pail of crispy fries drenched in salt and mayo towards Rosie. “Stop making a face. Go on, have one. You know you want to. What’s the point of depriving yourself of all your favorite food groups if it makes you a miserable cow?”

Rosie’s gaze lingers longingly on the crispy fries with their fluffy centre. They smell amazing. Her mouth waters to taste one, just one. The fries whisper in an evil voice, ‘eat me, eat me’ in her ear. But she refuses to give in to temptation. Her eyes click to her best friend. Her skinny best friend. Her best friend who can eat whatever the hell she likes (even chocolate) and nothing sticks to her skinny ass. Her tight skinny ass. An ass that has delivered not one, not two, but THREE children. To be fair, the twins were delivered by C-section, but still . . .

“It’s not fair,” Rosie whines. “I love breastfeeding my baby girl to bits, you know I do. But Mila ate my boobs. They’re gone, baby, gone. For six short months I had a wondrous cleavage to be proud of. Awesome breasts. And now look at them.” She tugs her neck of her T-shirt to peer down. “They’re like deflated balloons. All empty skin. The fat’s gone to my ass and hips. It’s not fair.”

Her BBF does such a huge eye roll Rosie’s surprised she doesn’t give herself a migraine. So much for sisterly solidarity, eh? It’s okay for HER, she’d look amazing in a black bin bag. Not that she’s ever seen Bronte in a black bin bag, but that’s not the point, is it?

“For goodness sake stop that horrible whine,” Bronte says in a chirpy voice that does Rosie’s head in. “Breast feeding, if a woman can manage it and you have, is a wonderful thing for the mother and baby. Look at your belly, it’s flat and tight. And look at Mila, she looks plump and healthy and all on mother’s milk. You should be proud of yourself. And drink up your water, it’s good for milk making.”

Chewing on a sliver of red pepper, Rosie recognises a pep talk when she hears one. She’s not having it. “I smell of baby milk. She’s like a parasite sucking all the good stuff out of me, and leaving the crap on my ass and hips behind. My hair’s still falling out, too.”

Bronte pops another fry in her mouth, eyes Rosie’s riot of glossy curls, shakes her head. “You’ve gorgeous hair and plenty of it. What the hell is the matter with you today? Are you sleep deprived?”

“Nope. Mila’s sleeping through the night these days. She’s a frigging angel sent from heaven. I probably get too much sleep,” Rosie says in a pitiful little voice.

A voice that makes her BBF sit up and take notice. Bronte tops up their water glasses from the jug on the table. “Okay, what’s up, Buttercup?”

“There’s something going on with Alexander,” Rosie whispers.

Bronte’s eyes grow big and wide. “What’s my brother done?”

Rosie tends not to talk about her husband to his sister behind his back. It might have something to do with the marriage rules her mother drummed into her head, with loyalty to her spouse being very near the top. But if she doesn’t unburden herself, she’ll explode. “He didn’t kiss me goodbye this morning. No hug. No nuthin.”

Bronte blinks. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“I know. Usually he can’t keep his hands off me.” The sting of tears prickle in Rosie’s throat. She sniffs. “Thing is, last night at least twice I caught him on his phone and he switched it off really fast, like he doesn’t want me to hear or see what he’s doing.” Now the prickle is stinging behind her eyes.

Again Bronte sends her wide eyes, and an even bigger smile. “Probably work. You know what Nico and him are like, they never switch off.”

“Yeah, but usually Alexander’s pretty open about pressure of work. I’m telling you he’s up to something. I know it. I can smell it. He’s gone off me. Probably because having a baby has wrecked my ass. I worked really hard for that toned butt,” Rosie says miserably. Then another thought hit her. “And have you seen the blonde dolly on reception at Ludlow Hall?”

Bronte shakes her head. “She’s a student. You’re being ridiculous, my brother adores the ground you walk on.”

“Not recently,” Rosie mutters.

“Anything else bothering you?” Bronte asks.

*Actually there was something else, but Rosie would rather have her tongue cut out with a rusty knife than say so. They’ve been best friends since they were three, and not once has Bronte ever forgot Rosie’s birthday. NEVER. Until today that is . . . Well, her BBF has the kids, Nico and Sweet Sensations to look after. Maybe now they’re all grown up birthdays shouldn’t matter so much? Maybe the hurt and upset she’s feeling is truly pathetic? Maybe she needs to get a frigging life? After all look, she should be counting her blessings. She has a longed for baby girl and a man who loves her. At least he did until this morning, and obviously HE forgot it was a special day for her, too*

Biting down hard on her bottom lip, Bronte stands. “Ready to go?”

Rosie shrugs, lunch with the eternally skinny Bronte has not been fun. “Sure.”

*The girls buckle the baby seats securely in Bronte’s car, fold the strollers into the trunk, and then take their seats. But as they drive out of town Bronte doesn’t head for home, instead she takes the turning to Ludlow Hall*

Rosie turns to her, frowns. “Where are we going?”

“I want to check on Sophia and Luca. They’re having a play date in the kiddy party area next to the Spa. Won’t take a minute.”

“Sure.” Rosie shrugs miserably, stares unseeing out the window at the passing glory of acres of grass, the meandering river Ludlow, and the forests and hills beyond.

*The girls carry their daughters into Ludlow Hall*

Bronte leads the way past the Spa and into a function room. When she shoves Rosie through the door before her, there is a crowd of people lurking there who all roar, “SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROSIE!”

Rosie’s jaw hits the floor because standing before her are all her family and friends. Her parents have flown over from their retirement home in Cyprus. Jacob and Gabriella Del Garda are laughing at the shock on her face. Sophia and Luca and Tonio are all dressed to the nines and carrying cards and gift bags as they run to hug their favorite auntie.

Rosie turns to a crying with laughter Bronte Ferranti, and narrows her eyes. “You shit!”

Bronte grabs Mila, gives Rosie a smacking kiss. “God, your face. Best laugh, evah!”

And then there was Alexander, his arms filled with fresh flowers, and his emerald eyes dancing with wicked laughter. Oh, man, she was so gonna kick his very fine ass.
“Hey, baby,” he whispers in her ear. She shut her eyes to inhale the delicious scent of her man “Happy Birthday. Gimme a kiss.”

FINE

 

Ah, birthdays are wonderful things.

Big hugs,

Christine X