Away for Christmas
A Christmas Novella
by
Jan Ruth
Jonathan Jones has written a novel. Losing his job a few days before Christmas means the pressure is on for his book to become a bestseller, but when his partner drops her own bombshell, the festive holiday looks set to be a disaster.
When he’s bequeathed a failing bookshop in their seaside town, it seems that some of his prayers have been answered, but his publishing company turn out to be not what they seem, and when his ex-wife suddenly declares her romantic intent, another Christmas looks set to be complicated.
Is everything lost, or can the true meaning of words, a dog called Frodo, and the sheer magic of Christmas be enough to save Jonathan’s book, and his skin?
Bookmuse Magazine: "If you’re a writer you will laugh, despair and sympathise with Jonathan Jones, and the trials and tribulations he faces as he battles to become a published author. And if you’re a reader, you’ll be captivated by the excellent story-telling that weaves Jonathan’s complicated life into a page turning drama. A real feel good novella, perfect to curl up with on a stormy winter’s afternoon..."
You’ll enjoy this if you like: Jojo Moyes, Jill Mansell, Erica James.
Ideal accompaniments: Hot chocolate with marshmallows and a
plate of shortbread.
~
An excerpt from...
Away for Christmas
CHAPTER ONE
~2015~
His
problem started when flame-haired Marjorie Williams left her industrial
strength knickers and bra in his car.
If his boss, Amanda, had taken a moment
to consider the other items in the bag the whole situation would have been
crystal clear… sort of. There was a metal hook thing, a hairnet, and a bag of
week-old carrots. Hardly the stuff of sexual intrigue. All he’d done was offer
Marjorie a lift to the stables when her car had refused to start after the
staff conference. Why on earth did everyone in the office think it their
business to jump to the wrong conclusion at every turn? Seriously, they were
into the realms of dangerous fantasy on all counts because there was nothing in
the least erotic about Marjorie Williams’ horse-shaped rear. The company
secretary might affectionately be known as Red Rum, but at sixty-two she was
twenty years his senior and recently bereaved, so any speculation was not only
infantile but extremely distasteful.
Of course, some of the ribbing in the accountancy office was down to the fact
that he was writing a novel, although no matter how many times he reiterated
that he was not writing erotica – or basing characters on anyone he knew – they
all seemed to prefer to believe their own blinkered view of the process. His
colleagues asked what it was about on a regular basis, usually while they were
peering over his shoulder and rustling a packet of crisps. Trevor Hughes
butted-in on a more than regular basis. ‘Any sex in it?’
‘Yes, but it’s probably too subtle for you to appreciate.’
Loud laughter and whistles.
‘What’s it about, then?’
‘A man,’ he said, through gritted teeth. ‘He goes on a killing spree in an accountant’s
office in a Welsh seaside town.’
‘Alright, alright!’ Hughes slid onto the front of Jonathan’s desk. ‘When’s it
coming out? Be sure to let us know so we can get you to sign our free copies.’
He never rose to their comments, knowing full well they were designed to pour
scorn over his years of work. Some of his workmates were even suspicious of his
motives. Maybe they thought he’d suffer an instant personality transplant if
his book was a success and they wouldn’t know how to handle him. On the other
hand, the reactions of his friends and relations were almost as difficult to
fathom, ranging from indifference to abject disbelief. Some of them felt
compelled to defend their reading choices even before they knew what his book
was about, in case he asked them to read it. Of course, Jonathan’s book fell
short before they’d even clapped eyes on it.
Except for Catherine. His partner understood the blood, sweat and tears of the
thing because she lived through it on a daily basis.
