Spotlight: The Summer Swap by Sarah Morgan

Publication Date: May 7, 2024

Publisher: Canary Street Press

A recent widow’s plan to spend the summer in Cape Cod hiding from her interfering family is upended when she discovers her beach house has an unexpected guest, and the secret she's been keeping about her marriage threatens to be exposed. Perfect beach reading for fans of Taylor Jenkins Reid and Emily Henry.

70 year old widow Cecilia Lapthorne can’t bear the prospect of a family party to celebrate her birthday and the memory of her husband, famous artist Cameron Lapthorne. They had a toxic marriage but stayed together for the children, and bound by a big secret. She runs away to the Cape Cod seashore cottage she owned with Cameron--it’s where they first fell in love--but she hasn’t returned since she discovered him cheating on her there (for the first time). No one in her family knows about it, so she will be perfectly, delightfully alone for the summer.

Except struggling artist Lily has been secretly crashing on the sofa of the seashore cottage for the last couple of weeks. Unable to make rent after dropping out of medical school to pursue her dreams of becoming an artist and working as a housekeeper in Cecilia's Cape Cod enclave, she’s been illicitly camping at the cottage. Which isn’t a problem as it’s been unoccupied for years…until Cecilia unexpectedly shows up.

After the drama of discovering she has an unexpected house-guest has faded, Cecilia decides she’ll get along just fine with Lily for the summer. They form a tentative and powerful bond, based on shared love of art, but also the vulnerabilities they both share with each other. And when Todd, Cecilia’s beloved grandson (and the man who broke Lily’s heart in college) tracks her to the cottage, the three of them settle in for a summer of self-discovery, self-belief and second chances.

Excerpt

Running away from her life wasn’t something she was proud of, but with a view this good it was hard to regret the decision.

Lily tightened her grip on the handlebars and pedaled harder. Here on the northern tip of Cape Cod while the rest of humankind were still sleepy and had barely reached for the coffeepot, the place was hers alone.

All around her were sand dunes and the ocean stretching as far as she could see. She cycled the same route every day, and every day was different. Today the sky was a deep kingfisher blue, but she’d seen burnt orange, flame red and smoky silver.

It was a place favored by migratory birds and tourists, and generally she preferred the first to the second. The day before, she’d seen a blue heron and two snowy egrets. As far as she was concerned the fewer humans the better, but she owed her current job to the influx of summer people, so she wasn’t complaining.

She breathed deeply, letting the salt air fill her lungs and her mind. She felt free here on this windblown, sunbaked strip of seashore. For the first time in months, she felt better. Stronger. As if she might survive after all. The pressure had eased. She no longer woke at two in the morning drenched in sweat and panic, trapped in her life and hating every moment.

She felt something close to happiness, and then her phone buzzed and the feeling left her in a rush.

She pedaled faster, trying to outrun its insistent demand. She didn’t have to look to identify the caller. It was ten in the morning exactly. Only one person called her routinely at that time.

Dammit.

Guilt and an unshakable sense of duty made her squeeze the brakes and she pulled over, breathless, and dug out her phone. If she didn’t take the call now, she’d be taking it later and the thought of it looming in her future would darken the skies of an otherwise cloudless day. This was the price she had to pay for running away. You could run, but with today’s technology you couldn’t really hide.

“Lily, honey? It’s Mom.”

She closed her eyes briefly.

She’d been expecting this call, ever since she’d declined their invitation to come home and “talk things over.” As if talking it over yet again would change the outcome.

Every time she saw her mother’s name pop up on her phone screen her stomach churned. Guilt sank its fangs into all the soft, vulnerable parts of her. Her parents had made huge sacrifices for her, and she’d as good as slapped them in the face. And she hadn’t even given them a reason. At least, not one they could understand.

They deserved better.

“I’m on my way to work, Mom. I can’t be late.” Never had dirty pots and pans and other people’s laundry seemed more appealing. She’d rather deal with that any day than talk to her mother. Every conversation dragged her backward and left her so twisted with guilt she lost all confidence in her chosen path. “Is everything all right?”

“No. We’re worried about you, Lily.” Her mother’s tone was shaky. “We don’t understand what’s going on. Why won’t you tell us?”

Lily tightened her grip on the phone. “Nothing is going on. And you don’t need to worry.” She repeated the same words she’d said hundreds of times, even though they never seemed to settle.

“Can you blame us for worrying? We have a bright, brilliant daughter who has chosen to throw away the life she worked hard for. And with no reason.”

No reason? As if it had been a whim. As if she’d woken up one morning and decided to waste all those years of hard work just for a laugh.

“I’m fine. This is what I want.”

It wasn’t that her parents weren’t wonderful people, but communicating with them was impossible.

“Are you eating? Have you put on some weight? You were skin and bone when you left here.”

“I’m eating. I’m sleeping. I’m good. How are you and Dad?”

“We miss you, obviously. Come home, Lily. We can cook for you, and spoil you and look after you.”

Anxiety settled on her like a cloak, blocking out sunshine and her hopes for the day.

She knew what going home would mean. She loved her parents, but they’d hover over her with frowning concerned faces until she’d end up worrying more about them than herself. And then she’d do things she didn’t want to do, just to please them.

And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried staying at home. She’d done that in the beginning (mostly because her options were limited) and the pressure of pretending to be okay had been exhausting.

“I’m happy, Mom. I just need some space. It’s beautiful here. You know I always loved the ocean.”

“I know. I remember when you were six years old, and we couldn’t drag you away from the sandcastle you’d built.” There was a pause. “Honey, Dad made some calls. He thinks it’s not too late for you to go back to medical school if you want to.”

Lily’s heart started to pound. The sweat of anxiety threatened to become a full-blown panic attack. Her chest tightened. Her hands shook so badly the phone almost slipped from her fingers.

Interference, even well-meaning interference, should be designated a crime.

“I don’t want to. I know you and Dad are disappointed—”

“It’s not about us, it’s about you. We tried so hard to give you all the opportunities we didn’t have.”

Lily stared at the ocean and tried to find her inner calm, but it had fled the moment the phone had rung.

They’d made huge sacrifices for her, and she’d thrown it in their faces. She felt terrible. But staying would have made her feel worse.

“This is difficult for me, too, Mom.” The lump in her throat made it difficult to speak. “I know I’m hurting you and I hate it, but this is where I want to be. I can’t be a doctor. I want to be an artist.”

“You say that, but you’re cleaning houses.”

“To earn money while I try to find a way to do something I love.” While she tried to loosen the knots of stress in her body and untangle the mess in her head. “There’s nothing wrong with cleaning houses. I like it. And it’s a respectable way to make a living. You did it.”

“Because I didn’t have the opportunities you had.”

Lily felt guilt overwhelm her.

Her mother sighed. “Do you need money? We still have some savings.”

And she knew just how hard it would have been for her parents to pull that together after everything they’d already spent on her. She’d vowed never to take another cent from them.

“I don’t need money but thank you.” She didn’t want to think about the dire state of her bank account. She was determined to manage on her own now, no matter what.

“Lily—” her mother’s voice was gentle “—your father would kill me for asking because I know I’m not supposed to ask, but did something happen, honey? Did someone hurt you? Your dad and I always thought you’d make a wonderful doctor. You’re such a kind, caring person.”

“Nothing like that.” Lily’s throat burned. She badly wanted this conversation to end. “Could we talk about something else?”

“Of course. Let me think…not much has happened here. Your father has been busy in the garden.” Her mother spoke in a cheery I’m changing the subject to a safe topic voice. “The hydrangeas are beginning to bloom. They’re going to be stunning. I made the most delicious orange cake last week. No wheat. You know your father. Ground almonds instead of flour.”

“Sounds yummy.” She imagined them at home together and felt a pang. Despite everything, she missed them. Part of her just wanted to run home and be looked after but she knew that feeling would dissipate the moment she walked through the door. Within minutes the bands of pressure would tighten, and she’d be gasping for breath.

“I’m sure there was something I wanted to tell you.” Her mother paused. “What was it? Oh, I remember—I bumped into Kristen Buckingham last week. She’s always so charming and friendly. So normal.”

The last person Lily wanted to think about now was anyone with the name Buckingham.

“Why wouldn’t she be friendly and normal, Mom?” Lily knew how self-conscious her mother was around her friends and she hated it. It reminded her of being back at school and feeling like an imposter.

Her parents had scrimped and saved and worked multiple jobs in order to send her to the best school. They’d believed she’d have a great education and make influential friends. She would absorb their greater advantages by osmosis. It would be her ticket to a better life. They imagined her living her life in a bubble of success, mixing with people whose parents owned mansions and yachts and jets. People whose fridges were loaded with food and never had to worry about making it stretch to the end of the week. People who had drivers, and housekeepers, and staff who cleared the snow from their yard.

And she had met people like that, but most of the time Lily had felt like a stray dog that had somehow wriggled its way into a litter of pedigrees. She’d been afraid to reveal anything about her background, because she knew it was different from theirs. She’d masked her true self because she’d known that she didn’t fit. Despite her attempts to blend, she’d been badly bullied. To make things worse she’d also felt crushed by the pressure of work and parental expectation. To fail would have been to let them down, these people she loved so much and who loved her back. They’d half killed themselves to give her the opportunity. She couldn’t let herself fail.

Panic had hovered close to the surface the whole time, threatening to suffocate her. The only thing that had driven her from her bed in the mornings was the knowledge of her parents’ sacrifice and their pride in her. She hadn’t felt able to tell them how unhappy she was, or that locking herself in a cubicle while having a panic attack didn’t feel like success to her.

She’d been thoroughly miserable until the day Hannah Buckingham had rescued her from a bully who was trying to remove her ponytail with a pair of scissors. After that, everything changed.

Hannah was the granddaughter of the famous artist Cameron Lapthorne. She was a champion of the underdog. She had a fierce urge to protect anything threatened. She wanted to save the whales, and Sumatran tigers, and Antarctica. Lily was added to the list, and they’d become best friends from that moment. Hannah had said Lily was the sister she’d never had. Hannah hadn’t cared about the differences between their household incomes. Hannah hadn’t cared that Lily didn’t have her own bathroom, or a housekeeper to keep her room tidy, or tutors to make sure her grades were the best they could possibly be. Hannah had found Lily interesting. Hannah had wanted to know everything about Lily. She’d wanted to access her every thought. For the first time in her life, Lily had been able to be herself.

They’d been inseparable. Protected by Hannah, the bullying had stopped and Lily had flourished. With Hannah as her friend, her confidence had grown. She’d no longer felt like a misfit.

They’d gone to the same college where they’d both studied biological sciences and then they’d applied to the same medical school. When her acceptance letter arrived, Lily’s parents had cried. They’d been so proud and thrilled. It was the happiest day of their lives.

Lily had been happy and relieved that she’d achieved their goals. That she was everything her parents wanted her to be. That she hadn’t let them down. For a brief moment she’d believed that maybe she could do this.

But medical school had turned out to be a thousand times worse than school. She was surrounded by people who were brilliant, ambitious and competitive.

When the pressure started to crush her brain again, she tried to ignore it. She was going to be fine. She’d survived this far. There were many different branches of medicine. She’d find one that suited her.

It didn’t help that Hannah had no doubts at all. She’d known from the start that she wanted to be a surgeon like her father, Theo. Hannah wanted to save lives. She wanted to make a difference.

On the few occasions she’d met him, Lily had found Theo to be terrifying or maybe it was more accurate to say that she found his reputation terrifying.

Hannah’s mother, Kristen, was equally intimidating. She was an art expert, a whirlwind of brisk efficiency with a life so busy it was a wonder she fitted in time to breathe.

And then there was Hannah’s older brother, Todd, who was smart, handsome and kind, and the object of lust among all Hannah’s friends. Lily was no exception. Teenage Lily had fantasized about Todd. Twenty-three-year-old Lily had kissed Todd in a dark corner during a school reunion.

Lily was in love with Todd, but now Todd was dating Amelie.

Lily had trained herself not to think about Todd.

“I just mean that Kristen is very important, Lily, that’s all,” her mother said. “But she always takes the time to talk to me when I see her.”

“She’s just a person, Mom. A person like the rest of us.”

“Well, not really like the rest of us,” her mother said. “Her father was Cameron Lapthorne. I don’t pretend to know anything about art, but even I know his name.”

Hannah had taken her to the Lapthorne Estate once. It had been the best day of Lily’s life. She’d gazed at the paintings hungrily, studying every brushstroke, in awe of the skill and envious of anyone who could build a life as an artist. Hannah had given her a book of her grandfather’s work, and it had become Lily’s most treasured possession. She’d thumbed the pages, studied the pictures and slept with it under her pillow.

Ever since she was old enough to hold a paintbrush, Lily had loved art. She’d painted everything in sight. When she’d run out of paper, she’d painted on the walls. She’d painted her school bag and her running shoes. She’d said to her parents I want to be an artist, and for a while they’d looked worried. They’d told her no one made money that way and that she was smart enough to be a doctor or a lawyer. Lily knew how much they wanted that for her, and she knew how much they’d sacrificed. She couldn’t bring herself to disappoint them. And so she had dutifully gone to medical school, underestimating the toll it would take on her.

“Lily? Are you still there?”

Lily tugged herself back into the present. “Yes. So how was Kristen?”

“Busy as ever. She was in the middle of organizing a big event at the Lapthorne Estate. Celebrating her mother’s birthday and her grandfather, the artist. It’s happening today, I think. Todd will be there with his fiancée—I forget her name. Amelie, that’s right. And Hannah will be there of course. Kristen invited us, and you, which was generous of her.”

Fiancée?

Lily started to shake. “Todd is engaged?”

“Yes. A bit of a whirlwind according to Kristen. They’d only been dating for a few months, and she thought it was casual. Had no idea it was serious and then suddenly they announce that they’re getting married. I’m sure that wedding will be quite an event. Kristen said it was yet another thing for her to organize, although I don’t understand why the responsibility would fall on her. She’s such an impressive woman.”

Lily wasn’t thinking about Kristen. Lily was thinking about Todd.

She imagined Todd in the gardens of Lapthorne Manor with a glass of champagne in his hand, and Amelie gazing up at him with that flirtatious look that fused men’s brains and made them do stupid things, a large diamond glinting on her finger.

Amelie had been the most popular girl in the school. She’d had the highest marks, the fastest time on the running track and the biggest smile. Amelie was the girl most likely to succeed. She was also the girl who had tried to cut off Lily’s ponytail with a pair of scissors. And now she was marrying Todd. Kind, funny, clever Todd.

Todd had broken Lily’s heart, and he didn’t even know it.

Her palms felt sweaty as she tried to focus on the call. “Are you going to the party?”

“No, of course not. Your father wouldn’t know what to say and I wouldn’t know what to wear. They’re your friends really, not ours. Kristen mentioned that Hannah is enjoying her clinical rotation, but you probably know that as she’s your best friend.”

Lily didn’t know that. Lily and Hannah hadn’t spoken since that terrible fight on the night Lily had packed her bags and left medical school for good.

Every time Lily thought of Hannah she wanted to cry. They’d sworn that nothing and no one would ever come between them, and they’d truly believed that.

They’d been wrong.

“I must go, Mom. I’ll be late for work, and I don’t want to let people down.” She winced as she said it, because she was all too aware that she’d let her parents down. “Don’t worry. I’m happy. I like my life.”

“We don’t want you to waste your talents, honey, that’s all. You’re capable of so much. You could be curing cancer—”

Curing cancer? No pressure, then.

“I hated medical school.” The words spilled out of her. “It wasn’t for me.” And the pressure of trying to keep up had almost broken her. She didn’t expect them to understand. They believed that if you were smart enough to be a doctor, why wouldn’t you be one? And she couldn’t figure out how to make her parents proud, but still live the life she wanted to live. “I want to be an artist, Mom. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. You know that.”

“I know, but where’s the future in that? Your dad and I just don’t want you to struggle financially as we did. Life can be hard, Lily.”

Lily closed her eyes. She knew that. She knew how hard life could be.

“I’m managing fine. And I’m going to pay you and Dad back.”

“That’s not necessary, honey. We love you and remember there’s a home and a welcome here whenever you need it.”

Lily’s throat felt full. It would be easier to disappoint them if they weren’t so decent. If she didn’t love them so much. “Thanks. Give my love to Dad.”

She ended the call, wondering why big life decisions had to feel so difficult and wondering why, when there were so many people her mother could have bumped into, she’d had to bump into Kristen Buckingham.

Her little bubble of happiness had been punctured.

Todd was engaged. He was going to marry Amelie, and no doubt they’d have two perfect children and a dog and live a long and happy life with not a single bump in the road.

But she wasn’t going to think about that now. And she wasn’t going to think about Hannah. Twice in the last few months she’d almost texted her. Once she’d even typed out a message, but then she’d deleted it. Hannah had been furiously angry with her, and Lily had been angry with Hannah. They’d both been hurt, and Lily had no idea how to move past that hurt. Given that she hadn’t heard from Hannah, presumably she didn’t know, either.

The friendship that they’d believed could never be damaged, had been damaged. Broken. Amelie might as well have taken her scissors to it.

But that was in the past now.

Hannah was living in the city, and Lily was here on the Cape, and even though she’d brought all her emotions with her it was still preferable to being in the smothering atmosphere of her parents’ home. And at least it had been her decision to come here. For the first time ever, she was living the life that was her choice.

She just wished it felt easier.

Excerpted from The Summer Swap by Sarah Morgan. Copyright © 2024 by Sarah Morgan. Published by Canary Street Press.

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About the Author

Sarah Morgan is a USA Today and Sunday Times bestselling author of contemporary romance and women's fiction. She has sold more than 21 million copies of her books and her trademark humour and warmth have gained her fans across the globe. Sarah lives with her family near London, England, where the rain frequently keeps her trapped in her office. Visit her at www.sarahmorgan.com

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Spotlight: The Book Club Hotel by Sarah Morgan

Publication Date: September 19, 2023

Publisher: Canary Street Press

This Christmas, USA Today bestselling author Sarah Morgan returns with another heartfelt exploration of change, the power of books to heal, and the enduring strength of female friendship. Perfect for fans of Emily Henry and Jennifer Weiner.

With its historic charm and picture-perfect library, the Maple Sugar Inn is considered the winter destination. As the holidays approach, the inn is fully booked with guests looking for their dream vacation. But widowed far too young, and exhausted from juggling the hotel with being a dedicated single mom, Hattie Coleman dreams only of making it through the festive season.

But when Erica, Claudia and Anna—lifelong friends who seem to have it all—check in for a girlfriends’ book club holiday, it changes everything. Their close friendship and shared love of books have carried them through life's ups and downs. But Hattie can see they're also packing some major emotional baggage, and nothing prepares her for how deeply her own story is about to become entwined in theirs. In the span of a week over the most enchanting time of the year, can these four women come together to improve each other’s lives and make this the start of a whole new chapter?

Excerpt

Hattie

“Maple Sugar Inn, how may I help you?” Hattie answered the phone with a smile on her face because she’d discovered that it was impossible to sound defeated, moody or close to tears when you were smiling, and currently she was all those things.

“I’ve been planning a trip to Vermont in winter for years and then I spotted pictures of your inn on social media,” a woman gushed, “and it looks so cozy and welcoming. The type of place you can’t help but relax.”

It’s an illusion, Hattie thought. There was no relaxation to be had here; not for her, at any rate. Her head throbbed and her eyes pricked following another night without sleep. The head house­keeper was threatening to walk out and the executive chef had been late two nights running and she was worried tonight might be the third, which would be a disaster because they were fully booked. Chef Tucker had earned their restaurant that coveted star, and his confit of duck had been known to induce moans of ecstasy from diners, but there were days when Hattie would have traded that star for a chef with a more even temperament. His temper was so hot she sometimes wondered why he bothered switching on the grill. He could have yelled at the duck and it would have been thoroughly singed in the flames of his anger. He was being disrespectful and taking advantage of her. Hat­tie knew that, and she also knew she should probably fire him but Brent had chosen him, and firing him would have severed another thread from the past. Also, conflict drained her energy and right now she didn’t have enough of that to go around. It was simpler to placate him.

“I’m glad you’re impressed,” she said to the woman on the phone. “Can I make a reservation for you?”

“I hope so, but I’m very particular about the room. Can I tell you what I need?”

“Of course.” Bracing herself for a long and unachievable wish list, Hattie resisted the temptation to smack her forehead onto the desk. Instead, she reached for a pad of paper and pen that was always handy. “Go ahead.”

How bad could it be? A woman the week before had wanted to know if she could bring her pet rat with her on vacation—answer: no!—and a man the week before that had demanded that she turn down the sound of the river that ran outside his bedroom window because it was keeping him awake.

She went above and beyond in her attempts to satisfy the whims of guests but there were limits.

“I’d like the room to have a mountain view,” the woman said. “And a real fire would be a nice extra.”

“All our rooms have real fires,” Hattie said, “and the rooms at the back have wonderful views of the mountains. The ones at the front face the river.”

She relaxed slightly. So far, so straightforward.

“Mountains for me. Also, I’m particular about bedding. After all, we spend a third of our lives asleep so it’s important, don’t you agree?”

Hattie felt a twinge of envy. She definitely didn’t spend a third of her life asleep. With having a young child, owning an inn and grieving the loss of her husband, she barely slept at all. She dreamed of sleep but sadly, usually when she was awake.

“Bedding is important.” She said what was expected of her, which was what she’d been doing since the police had knocked on her door two years earlier to tell her that her beloved Brent had been killed instantly in a freak accident. A brick had fallen from a building as he’d been walking past on his way to the bank and struck him on the head.

It was mortifying to remember that her initial reaction had been to laugh—she’d been convinced it was a joke, be­cause normal people didn’t get killed by random bricks fall­ing from buildings, did they?—but then she’d realized they weren’t laughing and it probably wasn’t because they didn’t have a sense of humor.

She’d asked them if they were sure he was dead, and then had to apologize for questioning them because of course they were sure. How often did the police follow we’re sorry to have to tell you…with oops, we made a mistake.

After they’d repeated the bad news, she’d thanked them po­litely. Then she’d made them a cup of tea because she was a) half British and b) very much in shock.

When they’d drunk their tea and eaten two of her home­made cinnamon cookies, she’d shown them out as if they were treasured guests who had honored her with their presence, and not people who had just shattered her world in one short con­versation.

She’d stared at the closed door for a full five minutes after they’d left while she’d tried to process it. In a matter of min­utes her life had utterly changed, the future she’d planned with Brent stolen, her hopes crushed.

Even though two years had passed, there were still days when it felt unreal. Days when she still expected Brent to walk through the door with that bouncing stride of his, full of excite­ment because he’d had one of his brilliant ideas that he couldn’t wait to share with her.

I think we should get married…

I think we should start a family…

I think we should buy that historic inn we saw on our trip to Ver­mont…

They’d met in England during their final year of college and from the first moment she’d been swept away on the tide of Brent’s enthusiasm. After graduating, they’d both taken jobs in London but then two things had happened. Brent’s grand­mother had died, leaving him a generous sum of money, and they’d taken a trip to Vermont. They’d fallen in love with the place, and now here she was, a widow at the age of twenty-eight, raising their five-year-old child and managing the historic inn. Alone. Since she’d lost Brent she’d tried to keep every­thing going the way he’d wanted it, but that wasn’t proving easy. She worried that she wasn’t able to do this on her own. She worried that she was going to lose the inn. Most of all she worried that she wasn’t going to be enough for their daughter. Now Brent was gone she had to be two people—how could she be two people when most days she didn’t even feel whole?

She realized that while she’d been indulging in a moment of maudlin self-pity, the woman on the phone was still talking. “I’m sorry, could you say that again?”

“I’d like the bedsheets to be linen because I do struggle with overheating.”

“We have linen bedding, so that won’t be a problem.”

“And pink.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’d like the linen to be pink. I find I sleep better. White is too glaring and drab colors depress me.”

Pink.

“I’ll make a note.” She grabbed a notepad and scribbled Help followed by four exclamation marks. She might have writ­ten something ruder, but her daughter was a remarkably good reader and was given to demonstrating that skill wherever and whenever she could, so Hattie had learned to be mindful of what she wrote and left lying around. “Did you have a partic­ular date in mind?”

“Christmas. It’s the best time, isn’t it?”

Not for me, Hattie thought, as she checked the room occu­pancy. The first Christmas after Brent had died had been hid­eous, and last year hadn’t been much better. She’d wanted to burrow under the covers until it was all over, but instead, she’d been expected to inject festive joy into other people’s lives. And now it was the end of November again and Christmas was just weeks away.

Still, providing she didn’t lose any more staff, she’d no doubt find a way to muddle through. She’d survived it twice, and she’d survive it a third time.

“You’re in luck. We do still have a few rooms available, in­cluding one double facing the mountains. Would you like me to reserve that for you?”

“Is it a corner room? I do like more than one window.”

“It’s not a corner room, and there is only one window in this particular room, but it has wonderful views and a covered balcony.”

“There’s no way of getting a second window?”

“Sadly not.” What was she supposed to do? Knock a hole through the wall? “But I can send you a video of the room be­fore you make your choice if that would help.”

By the time she’d taken the woman’s email address, put a hold on the room for twenty-four hours and answered the rest of her questions, half an hour had passed.

When the woman finally ended the call, Hattie sighed. Christmas promised to be a nightmare. She made a note under the reservation. Pink sheets. Linen.

How would Brent handle it? It was a question she asked her­self a million times a day and she allowed herself to glance at one of the two photographs she kept on the desk. This one was of Brent swinging their daughter high in the air. Both were laughing. Sometimes, she’d discovered, remembering the best of times sustained you through the worst.

Excerpted from The Book Club Hotel by Sarah Morgan. Copyright © 2023 by Sarah Morgan. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

Buy on Amazon | Audible | Bookshop.org

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Sarah Morgan writes lively, sexy contemporary stories for Harlequin.

Romantic Times has described her as 'a magician with words' and nominated her books for their Reviewer's Choice Awards and their 'Top Pick' slot. In 2012 Sarah received the prestigious RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America. She lives near London with her family.

Find out more at www.sararahmorgan.com

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Spotlight: Snowed in for Christmas by Sarah Morgan

Publication Date: September 20, 2022

Publisher: HQN

What happens if the only Christmas celebration you want to attend is one you haven't been invited to? USA Today bestselling author Sarah Morgan delights with this hilarious and heartwarming Christmas cracker of a novel!

The Miller family Christmas is legendary – it’s the kind of perfect festive gathering that advertising exec Lucy has only ever read about. Until now. Because this year, she needs to get Ross Miller on board with a new contract, and he’s not taking her calls. So she has no choice – she’ll gatecrash the Miller Christmas, get Ross’s signature, then disappear before her envy at their epic family celebrations gets too much.

The Miller sisters couldn’t be more different – tough cookie doctor Alice despairs of soft-hearted nanny Clemmie – but they are united by two things. A wish to see their disreputable older brother Ross settle down, and horror at their parents’ well-meaning interrogations every Christmas! Especially this year, with both women hiding life-changing secrets they do not want dissected over the Christmas turkey. So when a woman shows up on their snowy Highland doorstep, asking for Ross, and their grandma mistakes her for Ross’s new girlfriend, an opportunity presents itself

Before she knows it, Lucy has been invited to stay for the holidays, as the newest Miller plus-one. Her ‘boyfriend’ is furious, but the chemistry between them is as tempting as it is surprising. It’s shaping up to be either Lucy’s worst Christmas of all, or the best mistake of her life….

Excerpt

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Maya helped Lucy pack boxes of the Fingersnug into a bag. “Isn’t there a risk that turning up at his house in Scotland makes you look like a stalker?”

“I can see why you might be concerned about that and I’m not going to say it didn’t cross my mind, but no. Firstly because I’m in Scotland anyway, doing a photoshoot for the Fingersnug along with reindeer and several influencers, and secondly because this is what Zoe told me to do. I’m simply following her advice. And it’s not as if I haven’t tried every other route first.” Maybe she was overstepping a little, but sometimes you had to take a risk to get ahead.

Ever since Arnie’s health scare she’d been working flat out to put together ideas for Miller Active. She was excited about her plan and desperate to get her proposal in front of Ross Miller before the competition snagged his attention. She was willing to take the chance that the whole thing could explode in her face. What was the worst that could happen? He’d slam the door on her, which wouldn’t be pleasant but at least she’d be able to limp home knowing that she’d done everything she could to help Arnie and protect people’s jobs.

“Who is Zoe?”

“Ross Miller’s personal assistant. She’s great. She’s organized, and she knows everything. We went to that new wine bar near the river last night, and—”

“You went to a wine bar with Ross Miller’s assistant?”

“Yes.” Lucy tucked some of the festive “props” she’d bought into the bag. “We’ve been talking every day for the past week, and we’ve become friendly.”

Maya shook her head in disbelief. “How do you do it? If someone stands still for long enough, you befriend them.”

“It wasn’t hard. I like her. I took my proposal over to the office and we got chatting. Turns out she’s from Scotland, too, and she knows Ross from school.”

“And he gave her a job?”

“Why not? She’s brilliant. And who knows, maybe she threatened to reveal all his secrets if he didn’t employ her.” Lucy added two boxes of fairy lights to the bag. “They’re obviously good friends. Sounds as if they have one of those fun relationships full of banter where she scolds him, and he pretends to do as he’s told. Can you pass me the snow globe?”

Maya handed it to her. “Good friends? Or very good friends.”

“Not romantic. According to Zoe, Ross isn’t involved with anyone. He occasionally dates, but women tend to get frustrated by his focus on work. He actually forgot about his last date, left her sitting in a restaurant.” She forced the snow globe into the bulging bag. Maybe it had been optimistic of her to think she could manage with the one bag.

“Not the king of romance, then,” Maya said. “Does Ross know that his assistant is revealing his entire personal life to strangers?”

“I’m not a stranger. I’ve seen her four times this week.”

May rolled her eyes. “And no doubt by Friday you’ll be godmother to her children.”

“She doesn’t have children, although she would like to. She’s dating William, but he’s currently living in Edinburgh and she misses him horribly. William, it seems, is very slow to make a commitment so Zoe is thinking of proposing herself. We talked through a few strategies.” Lucy tried to close the bag and failed. “A little help, please?”

Maya pushed the sides of the bag together. “No offense, but since when did you become the expert on marriage proposals?”

“I know a lot about the theory.” Finally, Lucy managed to close the bag. “You don’t have to travel the world to teach geography. I’m creative, that’s my job. I know how to make an impact. Also, I pay attention to what people want and need. That’s the basis of successful selling and, in the end, that’s what we’re doing. All the time. Every day. I’m going to be selling the idea of me to Ross.”

“So where does William fit into this?”

“William works in risk assurance so it’s understandable that he won’t be given to impulse. He needs a little something to nudge him past that caution barrier. Fortunately Ross Miller closes the office for a week over Christmas, which means Zoe can go home, too.” Lucy lifted the bag. “This weighs a ton. Nothing else is fitting in there.”

“He closes the office?”

“Yes. He goes home to Scotland to spend time with his family.”

“That’s nice.”

“It is. I like it when people appreciate family.” Lucy lowered the bag back to the floor. “I feel as if I’ve forgotten something. What else do I need?”

“A whole lot of good luck and the bound copies of your proposal. You wanted two, is that right?” Maya handed them to her. “You haven’t discussed this with Arnie, have you?”

“No. He is supposed to be resting. No stress. You know what he’s like. If I even mention this, he’ll want to be involved.” She knew she’d never forget the sight of Arnie being taken away in an ambulance. For a horrible moment she’d thought she might lose another person she loved, but fortunately it hadn’t turned out to be as serious as they’d feared.

Arnie had been discharged with medication and a lecture on lifestyle.

He was keeping in touch with the office, but Lucy had given everyone strict instructions not to contact him.

The office felt strange without him there. Even the Christmas tree and the decorations couldn’t make up for his absence. But if he rested now, hopefully he’d be well enough to come back to work in January.

In the meantime she was holding the fort.

Maya gestured to the proposals in Lucy’s hand. “Good work, by the way. Clever. I think Ross Miller will be impressed.”

“Let’s hope so.” She grabbed some Christmas wrapping. “Did you see the photo Ted sent round? The baby is gorgeous.”

“They’re not getting any sleep.”

“I know. Ted says he watches the baby half the night to check she’s still breathing.” Lucy knelt on the floor, cut the wrapping paper and measured a length of ribbon.

“Ribbon?” Maya frowned. “You’re not seriously gift wrapping the proposal?”

“Why not? It’s Christmas.” She wrapped the document carefully. “Even the most hard-hearted businessman can’t help but respond to wrapping paper covered in cheerful robins, surely?”

“That’s why you’re wrapping it? To fill his hardened heart with festive joy?”

“No.” Lucy tied the ribbon and secured the label she’d handwritten in careful script. “I’m wrapping it in case something happens and I’m not able to deliver it to him personally. It’s Christmas, and they have a big family gathering every year.”

“Zoe again?”

“No. I read about it in that magazine feature I mentioned.” She’d pored over every page, envious of the oversize Christmas trees, the lush garlands adorning fireplaces and the curved bannister. “If I hand them a boring-looking proposal the chances are they’re going to forget about it. Who wants to read a boring document at Christmas? If I wrap it, then there is a good chance that at some point over the festive season it’s going to be opened.”

“Possibly by one very disappointed kid who is immediately going to throw a tantrum before tossing it out of the window.”

“No young children in the family, according to my research.” She tucked the wrapped parcel carefully into her laptop bag, along with the spare unwrapped proposal.

“Please tell me you’re not dressing as Santa when you drop it off.”

“I wasn’t planning to—” Lucy rocked back on her heels “—but now you’re making me think.”

“Well don’t think. You’ve done enough thinking.” Maya rested her hip on the desk and folded her arms. “So why didn’t he go into the family business?”

“Ross? I have no idea, and it’s not relevant. I am not there to interfere with family politics. I am simply going to ring the doorbell and hand over my gift. Merry Christmas. That’s it.”

“You should have put a copy of that marketing magazine in with the proposal. Cover girl Lucy.”

Lucy stood up and put the unused wrapping paper back on her desk. “That’s one of those awards that we are all super proud of, but no one else in the world has ever heard of.”

“But you’re the face of modern marketing. He might be impressed.”

“Or not.” Lucy glanced at her phone. “I have an hour before my train leaves.”

“The sleeper. I’ve always thought that sounds romantic. Traveling on a train through the darkness, clickety-clack, clickety-clack.”

“There is nothing romantic about having a carriage to myself.”

“Maybe it will be like one of those spy movies,” Maya said, “where the bad guy is lurking, waiting to throw you out of the window.”

“And for that comforting thought, I thank you.”

“You should have taken some days for yourself while you’re up there. Have a mini break.”

Lucy couldn’t think of anything worse. “I’ve already booked my return journey the following night. All organized. It’s a flying visit.”

Even if she had the money for it, she didn’t want to spend time in a hotel on her own at Christmas. How miserable would that be?

No, she’d spend the day taking creative photos of the Fingersnug with the reindeer herd as her backdrop, and then she’d deliver her proposal to Ross Miller on her way back to catch the train.

As far as she could see, there was nothing that could go wrong.

Excerpted from Snowed in for Christmas by Sarah Morgan. Copyright © 2022 by Sarah Morgan. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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About the Author

Sarah Morgan is a USA Today and Sunday Times bestselling author of contemporary romance and women's fiction. She has sold more than 21 million copies of her books and her trademark humour and warmth have gained her fans across the globe. Sarah lives with her family near London, England, where the rain frequently keeps her trapped in her office. Visit her at www.sarahmorgan.com

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Book Spotlight & Giveaway: Maybe This Christmas by Sarah Morgan

Summary

This winter, ex-skiing champion, reformed heartbreaker and single dad Tyler O'Neil has only one mission—making sure his daughter, Jess, has the best Christmas ever. The fact that his best friend, Brenna, is also temporarily moving into his chalet at the overbooked Snow Crystal resort is a delicious distraction he's simply going to have to ignore. Theirs is the one relationship he's never ruined, and he's not about to start now. 

Ski pro Brenna Daniels knows all about the perils of unrequited love—she's been in love with Tyler for years. But living with him is absolute torture… How can she concentrate on being his friend when he's sleeping in the room next door? Then when Tyler kisses Brenna, suddenly the relationship she's always dreamed of feels so close she could almost touch it. Could this be the Christmas her dreams of a happy-ever-after finally come true?

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Author Biography

USA Today bestselling author Sarah Morgan writes hot, happy contemporary romance. Her trademark humour and sensuality have gained her fans across the globe and two RITA® Awards from the Romance Writers of America. Sarah lives near London with her family. Visit her at www.sararahmorgan.com.  

Social Networking Links

Website: http://sarahmorgan.com 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSarahMorgan 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SarahMorgan_ 
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/45898.Sarah_Morgan 

Excerpt 

He was going to kiss her.

Finally, after waiting a lifetime, Tyler O’Neil was going to kiss her.

Bold, terrified he might change his mind, Brenna rose on tiptoe and closed the gap, bringing her mouth to his.

A second’s delay, a moment of heart-stopping hesitation, and then his mouth claimed hers, slowly at first and then with deep, sensual hunger. Raw, electrifying excitement rushed through her, and she moaned against his lips, opening her mouth as she felt the skilled slide of his tongue against hers.

Everything inside her melted, and she clung to his shoulders, grateful for the solid strength that kept them both upright.

She was impatient for more, and she’d thought he was, too, but he kept that side of him reined in as he kissed her slowly and thoroughly until sensation flooded every cell of her body. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the skill of his mouth, knowing that nothing in her life before had felt as perfect and right as this.

His mouth slid over her jaw, down to her neck and fastened over a pulse beating at the base of her throat. The brush of his tongue brought a moan to her throat, and she tugged at his shirt, needing to touch him, needing to feel. He had the body of an athlete, supremely fit, honed from hours of hard physical exercise, and her seeking hands encountered hard male muscle and smooth skin.

He slid one hand behind her head and brought his mouth back to hers in a kiss that was hot and explicit. She felt him, hard and ready through the fabric of his jeans, and she could hardly breathe for wanting him.

Would it be here?

Now?