Little
Boxes
by
Celia J Anderson
(@celiaanderson1)
 |
| Little Boxes |
Blurb:
Suddenly bereaved,
Molly White realises that she has never really known her feisty husband Jake
when random boxes begin to appear through the post, each one containing a
tantalising clue to the secrets of Jake and Molly’s past. Someone who knows
them both well, for reasons of their own, has planned a trail of discovery. The
clues seem to be designed to change Molly’s life completely, leading her around
Britain and then onwards to rural France and deepest Bavaria.
Meanwhile, waiting in
the wings is Tom, a charismatic artist who runs a gallery in the same town.
Strong, independent and wheelchair-bound from the age of fifteen, he leads a
solitary life and has no idea how devastatingly attractive he is to women. When
Tom meets curvy, beautiful and funny Molly, he knows that she is his dream
woman, but she seems way out of his orbit until the boxes start to weave their
spell and the two of them are thrown right out of their comfort zones.
Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23360501-little-boxes
Excerpt:
Tom sat on the beach
in the spring sunshine, eating cockles out of a tub and
gazing rather grimly
at the incoming tide. If it came much closer he’d have to
abandon his painting
for the day – it took a good twenty minutes to pack up and get
back to his car on
the promenade.
As he licked his
fingers and screwed up the seafood carton, there was a scrunch
of pebbles and a
whoosh of air as a small boy thundered past, whooping at the top
of his voice. He was
followed at speed by the most desirable woman that Tom could
ever remember seeing
in this small seaside town. It was his Lady in Red; the one
who had been cropping
up in his dreams far too often since he’d first seen her on the
beach. Her hair was
an explosion of dark curls, and she wore tight orange jeans with
a wildly clashing
crimson sweater that came almost to her knees. Tom took a deep
breath to say hello
but he was too late.
‘Max... MAX... don’t
go near the sea. I mean it!’ she bellowed, skidding straight
into Tom as she
chased the boy across the pebbles. ‘Sorry, sorry… have I hurt you?
Is your painting
wrecked? Oh – wow; it’s good, isn’t it? You can tell it’s meant to be
the pier. I’m really,
really sorry…’
Tom picked himself up
and put his painting chair the right way up again. ‘Hey, it’s
okay – you can fall
over me any time,’ he said, grinning into her startlingly green
eyes.
She blinked and
looked away, her lovely face matching the colour of her
sweater. Shielding
her eyes with a hand, she scanned the beach for the boy.
‘Where’s he gone, the
little toad? Ah, there he is, he’s making something out of a
heap of stones – at
least he’s not paddling fully dressed like last time. Oh hell, you
don’t even know me
and I’ve already wrecked your work. I’m Molly. I think I’ve seen
you here before,
haven’t I? Let me fix your painting.’
She bent down to see
if she could repair the damage and Tom held out a hand
to stop her trying to
brush bits of stone off his picture. ‘No, honestly, it’s fine, I’ll sort it
out. I’m Tom, and
I’ve seen you, too. You’re easy to remember.’
‘Am I? Why?’
‘Lots of reasons –
you often seem to be in a hurry, you always wear something
red, you’ve got lots
of kids, you’re gorgeous…’ Tom stopped in confusion.
‘Gorgeous? Me? Do you
need your eyes testing or something?’ Molly blushed
again and looked at
him properly for the first time. ‘I’m sorry, that was really rude,’
she said. ‘My mum’s
always telling me I don’t know how to take a compliment.’
‘Don’t worry, maybe
you just need a bit more practice.’ Tom bent to carry on
sorting his painting
kit out. He couldn’t help noticing how her eyes rested on his
forearms as he
finished tidying up and, clearly aware of his scrutiny, she reddened
even more.
‘You’re very strong,
aren’t you?’ she blurted out.
Tom laughed. ‘I guess
I have to be, don’t I? If you’ve seen me before, you’ll
know why.’
‘I don’t want you to
think I’ve been staring at you, Tom. It’s just that you’re…
um… different to most
of the men round here.’
‘Tell me about it.’
Tom slung his bag over one shoulder and heaved himself out
of his folding chair.
‘Can I help you at
all?’ Molly asked, standing on tiptoes to get a better view of
the shoreline. ‘Oh
look, here are the other two Musketeers. They can carry
something for you, if
you like.’
‘I don’t need any
help, thanks.’ Tom bit back the familiar feeling of irritation and
smiled up at a pair
of girls, dressed entirely in black, who had stopped next to him.
The taller one had
multiple piercings. Both girls were scowling.
‘Mum, what are you
like?’ said the pierced one. ‘We saw you knock the paints all
over the place.
You’re so clumsy. Have you seen what Max is doing now?’
Molly looked again.
The small boy had been jumping off his pile of stones and
had landed awkwardly
the last time. He began to wail. ‘Max! I told you last time not
to do that. Hang on,
I’m coming,’ Molly shouted.
The girls sighed and
rolled their eyes at Tom as they watched their mum slither
off over the stones
to the sandy stretch by the sea, where Max was now hurling the
biggest rocks he
could find into the waves. The pierced girl turned to the smaller one.
‘Bloody hell, why
doesn’t she just leave him alone for a bit? The only place he
can go is into the
sea.’
‘But he’s only little
– he can’t swim.’
‘Exactly.’ The older
girl smirked as they wandered off down the beach.
Tom sighed. Another
opportunity lost; still no nearer to finding out more about his dream woman. Oh
well, at least he knew her name now. On the other hand, it didn’t
take a genius to work
out that she was already taken. The wedding ring gave it
away, even if the children didn’t.
Author
Bio:
Celia J Anderson spends most of her spare
time writing in as many different genres as possible, including children’s
fiction. In her other life, she’s Assistant Headteacher at a small Catholic
primary school in the Midlands and loves teaching literature (now comfortingly
called English again but still the best subject in the world.)
She tried a variety of random jobs before
discovering that the careers advisor at secondary school was right, including
running crèches, childminding, teaching children to ride bikes (having omitted
to mention she couldn’t do it herself) and a stint in mental health care. All
these were ideal preparation for the classroom and provided huge amounts of
copy for the books that were to come.
Celia enjoys cooking and eating in equal
measures, and thinks life without wine would be a sad thing indeed. She is
married, with two grown up daughters who have defected to the seaside. One day
she plans to scoop up husband and cats and join them there.
Links:
Out Now! #romance #contemporary #novel #book
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