[Excerpt 2] T.A. Williams – What Happens in the Alps…

[Excerpt 2] T.A. Williams – What Happens in the Alps…What Happens in the Alps... Published by Carina UK on March 21, 2016
Genres: Chick Lit
Pages: 262


Up in the magical, snow kissed mountains…

Two years ago, Annie Brewer’s life was turned upside down when her adrenaline-junkie husband died in a tragic climbing accident. So she’s hoping that moving to the beautiful village of Santorso in the Italian Alps will finally put her life back on track!

…anything can happen!

She might be going into business with her oldest friend – notorious lady-charmer Matt Brown – but men are definitely out of the question for Annie! That is, until she bumps into tall, dark and delicious Alessandro Lago on the ski slopes…and spontaneously says ‘Yes’ to a date! It must be the crisp mountain air but suddenly, anything seems possible. The only trouble is, chivalrous Matt is looking more gorgeous than ever…

A sparkling romantic comedy guaranteed to beat the winter blues, What Happens in the Alps…is one story you don’t want miss in 2016!

Hi lovelies!! I’ve been crazy busy packing up my apartment so my review is delayed a couple of days. I will tell you that I’m loving the book (as if I had any doubts) and can’t wait to finish reading it! Here’s another excerpt to hold you until then. Don’t forget to enter the giveaway below! You can win What Happens in Tuscany or What Happens in Cornwall!! (Both excellent books!) 🙂

Excerpt

When they got outside, Annie got a shock. There, parked half on the pavement, half on the road, was an amazing red sports car: low, sleek and surprisingly long. Alex opened the passenger door for her and looked on as Annie slid, or rather fell, into the low leather seat, her legs waving rather inelegantly in the air as she did so. He apologised. ‘Sorry, I should have warned you. It’s a bit low.’

‘A bit low? You may need a crane to get me out of this thing again.’ Mercifully, from where he was standing, he couldn’t see the embarrassment on her face. Well, she told herself, she had intended to flash him a bit of leg and she had certainly succeeded in doing that, if not substantially more. He closed the door and walked round to the driving seat. She noticed that he managed to slide in his side much more elegantly. Presumably it was something that improved with practice.

‘As it’s not freezing tonight and there’s no snow predicted, I thought we could give the Ferrari a run out.’ Annie looked across at the mass of coloured dials and gauges on the dashboard and clearly saw the trademark prancing horse in the middle of the steering wheel. The wheel itself had been squared off along the bottom and looked strangely unbalanced. Alex pressed the starter button and the car erupted into a high-pitched roar that rattled windows and turned heads all along the narrow road. As they drove off through the streets of Santorso, Annie felt more conspicuous than she had ever felt in her life. Luckily, it was dark outside and she was so low down in the car that she doubted if anybody looking on would be able to recognise her. She certainly hoped not.

The drive down the motorway to San Daniele normally took Annie twenty minutes in her old Panda. In the Ferrari, it felt like two or three, the tail lights of the other road users appearing and disappearing in a blur, the frantic scream of the engine making conversation all but impossible. She almost didn’t have time to be frightened. Almost.

By the time Alex drove up the tree-lined drive to the front doors of the floodlit casino, her heart rate had slowed from life-threatening to just critical, but at least she could breathe again. He drew up right by the steps leading to the front door and climbed out. As Annie heaved herself out of the car, seriously regretting her choice of a short skirt and doing her best to maintain some semblance of modesty, she felt a host of eyes on the car and on her. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable. One thing was for sure: she wasn’t used to being ferried round in cars like this and she didn’t like what it said about her. No doubt the onlookers were drawing their own conclusions about her and she didn’t like that sensation one bit.

Alex didn’t appear to notice her discomfort. ‘Here, let me give you a hand.’ He leant in and helped her out of the car. Then he tossed the keys across to a liveried bellboy and turned dismissively away. Annie followed him up the steps and into the casino, anxious to put as much distance between her and that bloody car as possible. Alex took her hand and led her towards a sign marked Restaurant.

‘Shall we eat first and then play a bit of roulette afterwards?’

Food was not high on Annie’s agenda at the moment, and gambling even less so. She summoned a weak smile and then, spotting a door marked Servizi, she excused herself and went into the ladies’ to regroup. By the time she had smoothed her skirt, wiped her brow and swallowed a paper cupful of water, her heart was no longer racing, she felt a bit better, and so she went out to rejoin Alex. She found him chatting to two older men in dinner jackets. Her first impression of them wasn’t auspicious. Greased-down black hair, matching moustaches and straining waistbands, they looked like something out of The Godfather. As she appeared, Alex excused himself and came over to take her hand once more.

The headwaiter recognised him immediately and led them to a table in the corner, overlooking the formal gardens to the rear of the old property. Strategically positioned lights illuminated snow-dusted box hedges, miniature trees and a frozen pond. The dining room itself was as blingy as she remembered, and the other diners even more so. If even half the sparkling diamonds on display were real, an armed robbery could only be a matter of minutes away. Somehow, however, she had a sneaking feeling a lot of them might be as false as the atmosphere in this place.

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About T. A. Williams

Firstly, my name isn’t T A. It’s Trevor. I write under the androgynous name T A Williams because 65% of books are read by women. In my first book, “Dirty Minds” one of the (female) characters suggests the imbalance is due to the fact that men spend too much time getting drunk and watching football. I couldn’t possibly comment. Ask my wife…

I’ve written all sorts: thrillers, historical novels, short stories and now I’m enjoying myself hugely writing humour and romance. Romantic comedies are what we all need from time to time. Life isn’t always very fair. It isn’t always a lot of fun, but when it is, we need to embrace it. If my books can put a smile on your face and maybe give your heartstrings a tug, then I know I’ve done my job.

I‘ve lived all over Europe, but now I live in a little village in sleepy Devon, tucked away in south west England. I love the place. That’s why you’ll find leafy lanes and thatched cottages in most of my books. Oh, yes, and a black Labrador.

I’ve been writing since I was 14 and that is half a century ago. However, underneath this bald, wrinkly exterior, there beats the heart of a youngster. My wife is convinced I will never grow up. I hope she’s right.