It’s the dream Christmas: snow, mountains… and, er, an ex-boyfriend. But can Zoe still find love in the Alps?
Dumped on Christmas Eve by her long-term boyfriend, it's been a rough year for Zoe Lumsley. But then she gets an invitation she can’t refuse: an all expenses paid skiing holiday with old university friends.
The bad news: her ex, Grant, will be there with his new girlfriend. But so will her former flatmate Billy, the organiser, and in the meantime he’s done rather well for himself. As Christmas in the Alps approaches, it'll be great to see the old gang. Some more than others...
Title: Dreaming of Christmas
Author: T.A Williams
Published By: Canelo Escape
Publication Day: 27th August 2018
Links: UK: Amazon US: Amazon
Guest Post
Welcome to T.A. (Trevor) Williams, author of Dreaming of Christmas, who gives us an insight into what Christmas is like for him.
Dreaming of Christmas is set in a quaint old ski resort in the Austrian Alps. You know what they say – write about what you know. So that’s why it’s set there. Back when our daughter was a teenager, we went to Austria at Christmas on a number of occasions and loved it. Hopefully my love of the place shines through in the book. We only stopped going there after two successive years when the pistes were green, rather than white. That’s the trouble with Austria; the ski stations aren’t very high up and snow isn’t always guaranteed. For the purposes of Dreaming of Christmas, however, I chose to bestow the heaviest December snowfall for many years upon my fictitious village of Bad Bergstein. The snow in the book is distinctly deep and crisp and even.
One year we had a problem with our pre-booked accommodation and ended up moving to a very posh hotel. This has formed the basis for the luxury hotel in the book. One of the things we loved about Austria and this particular hotel was how spotlessly clean it was and how comfortable the rooms were with triple glazed windows or even two sets of windows to keep out the cold and a glorious thick feather duvet on the bed. The place made a great impression on me and that’s why I chose to put it in Dreaming of Christmas.
Since then, Christmas has mostly been spent at home, except for one memorable Christmas spent with my wife’s family in northern Italy. This was most enjoyable, but very different from a normal Christmas back here in the UK for lots of reasons, principally snow. As they live in the foothills of the Alps, there was a lot of snow. Now don’t get me wrong, I like snow. But only in its place. And the proper place for snow is on a ski slope, not on the road. The only serious road accident I have ever had was on snow – an insurance company nightmare of a British-registered car, insured in Italy (I was working there at the time), being written off by an uninsured Algerian driving a French-registered car in Switzerland. No wonder the Swiss police laughed – and why my opinion of Swiss police (and Algerians) has never recovered.
Back here, Christmas alternates between our place or my brother’s place. Our daughter, now married, alternates between us one year and her husband’s family the next. This year everybody (13 or 14 people) will be with us and I’m going to do my traditional Christmas barbecue. Barbecuing for 14 is a challenge, especially for somebody old-fashioned like me who insists upon using real charcoal, not bottle gas. Last time I did it, I got all of it right apart from the little chorizo sausages. I now know that they cook very quickly and catch fire even quicker. I almost lost my eyebrows that time. This year I’m using my new double barbecue so the chances for disaster will be doubled.
My favourite Christmas anecdote concerns Merlin, our wonderful black Labrador, now immortalised in my books. He was an abused child and we had only just got him. He had been starved and you could count his ribs. As result, he was even hungrier than usual for a Lab. As we were sitting down to Christmas lunch, there was a crash. Merlin had nicked a long French baguette from the kitchen worktop and had tried to make his getaway with the swag through the dog flap set in the back door. We found him standing, looking dazed, with a third of the loaf in his mouth and two neat pieces lying either side of the dog door. Clearly, the canine brain hadn’t worked out the width of the dog door.
Christmas is the time for family and friends so that’s why I made Dreaming of Christmas the story of a bunch of old university friends meeting up for a reunion. Christmas for them is in the lap of luxury and I hope you enjoy reading about it. I wish you all a very happy Christmas and no burnt sausages.
Links: UK: Amazon US: Amazon
Guest Post
Welcome to T.A. (Trevor) Williams, author of Dreaming of Christmas, who gives us an insight into what Christmas is like for him.
Dreaming of Christmas is set in a quaint old ski resort in the Austrian Alps. You know what they say – write about what you know. So that’s why it’s set there. Back when our daughter was a teenager, we went to Austria at Christmas on a number of occasions and loved it. Hopefully my love of the place shines through in the book. We only stopped going there after two successive years when the pistes were green, rather than white. That’s the trouble with Austria; the ski stations aren’t very high up and snow isn’t always guaranteed. For the purposes of Dreaming of Christmas, however, I chose to bestow the heaviest December snowfall for many years upon my fictitious village of Bad Bergstein. The snow in the book is distinctly deep and crisp and even.
One year we had a problem with our pre-booked accommodation and ended up moving to a very posh hotel. This has formed the basis for the luxury hotel in the book. One of the things we loved about Austria and this particular hotel was how spotlessly clean it was and how comfortable the rooms were with triple glazed windows or even two sets of windows to keep out the cold and a glorious thick feather duvet on the bed. The place made a great impression on me and that’s why I chose to put it in Dreaming of Christmas.
Since then, Christmas has mostly been spent at home, except for one memorable Christmas spent with my wife’s family in northern Italy. This was most enjoyable, but very different from a normal Christmas back here in the UK for lots of reasons, principally snow. As they live in the foothills of the Alps, there was a lot of snow. Now don’t get me wrong, I like snow. But only in its place. And the proper place for snow is on a ski slope, not on the road. The only serious road accident I have ever had was on snow – an insurance company nightmare of a British-registered car, insured in Italy (I was working there at the time), being written off by an uninsured Algerian driving a French-registered car in Switzerland. No wonder the Swiss police laughed – and why my opinion of Swiss police (and Algerians) has never recovered.
Back here, Christmas alternates between our place or my brother’s place. Our daughter, now married, alternates between us one year and her husband’s family the next. This year everybody (13 or 14 people) will be with us and I’m going to do my traditional Christmas barbecue. Barbecuing for 14 is a challenge, especially for somebody old-fashioned like me who insists upon using real charcoal, not bottle gas. Last time I did it, I got all of it right apart from the little chorizo sausages. I now know that they cook very quickly and catch fire even quicker. I almost lost my eyebrows that time. This year I’m using my new double barbecue so the chances for disaster will be doubled.
My favourite Christmas anecdote concerns Merlin, our wonderful black Labrador, now immortalised in my books. He was an abused child and we had only just got him. He had been starved and you could count his ribs. As result, he was even hungrier than usual for a Lab. As we were sitting down to Christmas lunch, there was a crash. Merlin had nicked a long French baguette from the kitchen worktop and had tried to make his getaway with the swag through the dog flap set in the back door. We found him standing, looking dazed, with a third of the loaf in his mouth and two neat pieces lying either side of the dog door. Clearly, the canine brain hadn’t worked out the width of the dog door.
Christmas is the time for family and friends so that’s why I made Dreaming of Christmas the story of a bunch of old university friends meeting up for a reunion. Christmas for them is in the lap of luxury and I hope you enjoy reading about it. I wish you all a very happy Christmas and no burnt sausages.
Thanks for joining us today Trevor and good luck with the book.
About the Author
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
Follow the blog tour for Dreaming of Christmas here...
Sincerely
Book Angel x
No comments:
Post a Comment