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Thursday, April 16, 2020

RRR presents... THAT NIGHT IN PARIS by Sandy Barker - EXCERPT!

Hi there!
Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers.


Today, we're shining the bookish spotlight on a Contemporary Romance title now on tour with Rachel's Random Resources.  The cover is enchanting, the title magnifique, and the story...well, let's just take a sample of that, now shall we?  Ladies and gents, please turn your attention full force to today's title in the spotlight...


That Night in Paris
by
Sandy Barker
One More Chapter (HarperCollins)

About the book...
Note to self: don’t sleep with your flatmate after a curry and two bottles of wine… especially if he’s secretly in love with you and wants you to meet his mum.

Cat Parsons is on the run. She doesn’t do relationships. After ten years of singlehood even the hint of the ‘L’ word is enough to get Cat packing her bags and booking herself onto a two-week holiday.

A European bus tour feels like a stroke of genius to dodge awkward conversations at home. But little does Cat realise that the first stop will be Paris, the city of love itself.

Joined by new friends, Cat has got two weeks, eight countries and a hell of a lot of wine ahead of her. As they discover hidden treasures and the camaraderie of life on the road, will Cat find a new way of looking at love?





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~~~ EXCERPT ~~~

On arrival to the first stop on the tour, Paris, Cat bonds with her three new friends.
“Well, that’s not a cabin,” said Jaelee.
The four of us stood facing a row of wooden structures at the Paris campsite. Jaelee dropped her case to the ground with a thud, and I waited for a foot stamp that didn’t come. I was still deciding about her. Danielle’s face scrunched up like she smelled something bad. I was still deciding about her too.
Bus bestie Lou shrugged her shoulders and forged ahead, boldly stepping inside the cabin assigned to us. She promptly came back out again.
“I don’t think we’re going to fit,” she said, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. Danielle’s grimace intensified and Jaelee stayed rooted to the spot, scowling.
I leant in and surveyed the entire cabin in approximately half a second.
Jaelee was right—these were decidedly not cabins. I’d seen cabins before. I’d even slept in a few—mountain cabins, lakeside cabins. Cabins were cosy and had fireplaces and handmade quilts to snuggle up with. Sometimes, they had dead animal heads hanging on the walls (as opposed to live ones). Cabins had room for people to gather in, to sit on overstuffed furniture and drink mulled wine and hot chocolate, or even do tequila shots.
What we were looking at was the opposite of a cabin. It was essentially a gardening shed with bunks—bunks with plastic-covered mattresses. In case we wet the bed? I wondered.
I straightened up and turned to Lou. “Where are we supposed to put our cases?”
“Pretty sure we leave them outside when we go to bed.” We grinned at each other. My affection for her was growing with each minute, our wromance well underway. She pulled Danielle into a side hug, cajoling her with, “Hey, neighbour—” an eye roll in response “—it’s not that bad. And it’s only for two nights.”
“This isn’t even Paris,” Jaelee scoffed, holding up her phone for the rest of us to see. “We’re miles out of Paris.” Jaelee— possibly Danielle too—was most definitely a tourist. I kicked into teacher mode, easy for me since I’d been in the classroom the day before.
“Right, you two, that’s your cabin. Take your cases inside, freshen up, change clothes if you like, and meet us out here in ten.” Their eyes widened, then they did as they were told. Yes, there were grumblings I could only just make out, but I’d heard far worse from the mouths of teenagers.
Lou murmured, “Nice work,” as we entered our cabin, swung our cases onto our respective beds and sat down. Our knees didn’t quite touch.
“So, we’re definitely going to be friends with them, right?” she asked quietly. I pursed my lips, trying not to laugh. “I mean, I’m just checking, ’cause I don’t think they’re gonna be easy.”
Giggles exploded out of me and I grabbed the pillow off my bed to cover my mouth. Lou did the same and we laughed long and hard. Hopefully, they didn’t hear us—they were right next door.
Half an hour later, the whole tour group gathered outside what I had dubbed “the circus tent”, a giant yellow and white striped tent where we’d eat dinner that night and both Parisian breakfasts. My dreams of cafĂ© au lait and pain au chocolat had vanished. I seriously doubted there was an espresso machine in there—clowns and a trapeze, more likely.
Ventureseek reps sped amongst us with stacks of plastic cups pouring scant measures of what was likely cheap bubbles. I took one from an Aussie girl and gave her a smile. It wasn’t her fault my mattress had a plastic cover.
Cup in hand, I turned to my three new friends—Lou and I had decided to keep the other two after all. “A toast—to new friends and to Paris’s finest garden sheds.”
To their credit, even Danielle and Jaelee smiled at that, tapping their cups against mine and Lou’s. I took a sip and grimaced—make that extremely cheap bubbles.
“So, Danielle. You’re travelling alone too?”
“Yes,” she said pointedly. “My best friend, Nathalie—well, we were supposed to be on this trip together, but she eloped instead.”
Three pairs of wide eyes stared at her, unblinking.
“She got married?” asked Jaelee.
“Yeah, well, not yet. Tomorrow, actually. In Mexico. I … I wasn’t invited.” I thought leaving an alcoholic husband was having a hard time. Well, it was, but so was this. She chewed on the rim of her cup.
“Well, that sucks. I’m sorry.” I could already tell that Lou was a terrific commiserator.
“Okay. We’re clearly going to be a foursome, so let’s get the preliminaries out of the way.” Jaelee took charge. Pointing to Danielle she said, “Crappy best friend.” Danielle seemed to take the label in her stride and sipped her bubbles. Then to Lou, “You. Go.”
“Alcoholic husband, probably separating, taking some time by myself—to decide, so, yeah …” We all nodded solemnly.
“Now you.” Jaelee pointed a perfectly manicured finger at me.
“Well, it’s nothing like any—”
“No rationalising. Just go.”
“Apparently my flatmate’s in love with me, but I don’t feel the same way and I’m on the run.”
She nodded with approval. “Good.” Good? “So, me …” She paused—for effect, I was sure.
“The love of my life just married someone else.” Frigging hell. Somehow, I’d managed to gravitate towards three women who’d had the shittiest of shitty things happen to them, and there I was, just a lowly love fugitive.
Still, any lingering doubts about booking the tour on a whim had vanished. As I drained the last of my cheap bubbles, I took a moment to appreciate my new gal pals. We’d have the next two weeks together, and no doubt we’d spend a good chunk of the time talking about all the shit going down.
In the absence of my sister, Sarah, I’d hit the jackpot.






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About author Sandy Barker...


I’m a writer and traveller with a lengthy bucket list and cheeky sense of humour, and many of my travel adventures have found their way into my books. I’m also an avid reader, a film buff, a wine lover, and a coffee snob, though my writing is mostly fuelled by copious mugs of strong, milky tea (no sugar).

SITE  |  FACEBOOK  |  TWITTER  |  INSTAGRAM


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Special thanks to Rachel at Rachel's Random Resources for the chance to bring this tour to you. (THANKS!) For more information on this title, the author, this promotion, or those on the horizon, feel free to click through the links provided above. Be sure to check out the rest of tour for more bookish fun!



Until next time, remember...if it looks good, READ IT!

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