Today I am incredibly lucky to be able to bring you a preview of Holly Martin's forthcoming book One Hundred Proposals, which is being published on 25th June (and can be pre-ordered now from here). I have heard amazing early feedback from reviewers and cannot wait to get my hands on a copy and get stuck in.
You may have seen and heard me rave earlier in the year about an earlier book of hers called The Guestbook which is just amazing. If you haven't had a chance to read it yet I would urge you to click here and order, especially as it is just 59p on kindle at the moment - an absolute bargain.
Without further ado I am pleased to reveal the prologue and chapter one of One Hundred Proposals, enjoy!!
Prologue
‘Ok,
you can open your eyes now,’ Harry said.
I
blinked in the gloom of the cave. Moonlight tumbled through the opening above
us, reflecting off the waterfall as it cascaded into the pool below. We had
been in Australia for just a few days but I knew it would never cease to amaze
me. Dancing in the pockets of the cave walls were hundreds of fireflies,
sparkling like fairy lights.
Nothing
could have prepared me for what happened next.
The
fireflies started to gather together and slowly a shape was formed. I frowned
in confusion and then within seconds the words, ‘Suzie, Marry Me,’ stood proud
against the cave walls, written by the fireflies.
I
whirled round to face Harry in shock. ‘How did you do that?’ I looked back at
the fireflies, not wanting to miss anything. Would they perhaps move to form
the lyrics of my favourite song? Were they super trained fireflies and in a
minute they’d all whip out their mini cheerleader pom-poms and start some kind
of dance where they would balance precariously on each other’s backs?
‘It’s
some kind of fruit juice, they love it.’
I
fumbled in my bag for my camera. ‘We have to get a picture for the website.’
I fired
off a couple of shots and I could see a few other tourists had entered the cave
and were clearly waiting for my answer. They’d be waiting for a long time.
‘So what
do you think?’ Harry said. ‘Is this the perfect proposal?’
‘It’s
definitely one of your best, very romantic.’ I focused my attention on the
photos I was taking. They were going to look fantastic with the waterfall in
soft focus in the background and the fireflies in sharp detail set against the
inky blue light of the moon.
‘But
still not the perfect proposal?’
‘Not
for me, but someone else would love it.’ I watched the faces of the other
tourists fall at my callous response. ‘We’re not together, we just work with
each other.’ One couple looked at me dubiously, so I pressed on. ‘Our company
creates the perfect proposal, this kind of thing is our bread and butter.’
I
resisted the sudden urge to rush over to them and start handing out business
cards. As if reading my mind, Harry slung an arm round my shoulder, restraining
me with his hand.
I
looked up at him innocently but he didn’t seem convinced.
The
tourists moved further down the cave, leaving us alone.
‘You
always do that,’ Harry said.
‘What,
promote our business? I know, I can’t help it. I’m just so proud of what we’ve
achieved that I want to tell anyone that listens and anyone that doesn’t.’
‘No,
not that. You always say our company, our business. It’s yours,
you started it. I’m just the tech guy.’
It was
just me to start with. I created the.PerfectProposal.com over two years ago
when my boyfriend at the time proposed drunkenly to me over a greasy kebab. It
struck me that maybe the menfolk of this world might need a little helping hand
to create a proposal their girlfriends would remember forever. Although the
greasy kebab is not one I’m likely to forget.
Harry
was my web designer. When the business first started he would come by my
office, the back bedroom in my home, every day to help update the website with
my new ideas, photos and special offers. In the end it made sense to make him a
permanent feature. Our website looked fantastic and as an online company this
was integral to our success.
But
Harry wasn’t just the geeky IT guy, far from it. He was the biggest man I had
ever seen in my life, with large thighs and big feet. He had stubbly, dark hair
and chocolate eyes. But he also had a vivid imagination – where I was
organising the logistics for a champagne helicopter trip, he would be the one
that would come up with something completely unique like using fireflies.
‘And
you always put yourself down. We’re equal partners now, you helped to make the
company a success too,’ I said.
He
shrugged, never keen to accept that he played such an important part in it. He
gestured to the fireflies that were starting to break formation now. ‘Is it too
sickly?’
I let
my camera hang round my neck and leaned into him, I loved the way I fitted
against him. ‘I love it, I really do, it’s… magical. But there’s still something
missing.’
Was
there really such a thing as a perfect proposal? Three months ago, just before
Valentine’s Day, Harry had made it his mission to provide me with one. But deep
down I knew what I wanted and I doubted Harry would be able to deliver it. I should
have told him that when he first started this wild goose chase. It would have
saved me a lot of heartache.
Chapter
One
Three
Months Before
I put
the phone down on another excited client and sighed. It was February 11th
and we’d had a surge of customers all desperately wanting to propose on top of
the Eiffel Tower on Valentine’s Day. I felt like screaming. It was only by
careful planning that I’d arranged that my customers weren’t going to be there
at the same time. That’s just what a girl wants to feel special, to see other
girls being proposed to at the same place and time that she was. Was there no
originality anymore? Harry was brilliant at coming up with unique proposals,
but no matter how many times I had tried to sell Harry’s ideas to them, they
wanted the traditional and that was that.
‘Another
Eiffel Tower?’ asked Harry as he absentmindedly uploaded photos to our rolling
gallery.
‘He
wants a dozen red roses delivered to the observation deck at eight.’ I rubbed
my head in defeat. ‘What about something different, going to the ballet or
proposing over a bag of chips at the end of Brighton Pier?’
He
swivelled in his chair. ‘What would be your perfect proposal?’
I
looked at him and had a sudden flash of him holding me in his arms and asking
me to marry him.
‘I
don’t know, the perfect guy would definitely be a bonus.’
‘Ok so
you have your perfect guy and it’s not greasy kebab boy –’
‘Let’s
be clear, it was the kebab that was greasy not the man.’
He
waved away the details. ‘So Orlando Bloom or some other non-greasy hunk is
asking you to marry him, how would he do it?’
I took
a sip of tea whilst I pondered this. If one of my customers phoned up at a loss
for inspiration I had a hundred ideas. But for me, my mind was blank.
‘I have
an idea.’ Harry’s eyes were suddenly bright with excitement. He whirled round
on his chair and started tapping away furiously on his computer. I peered over
his shoulder at our website.
Proposer’s
Blog
How Do
You Propose to a Proposer?
Over
the next hundred days I intend to find out. I will find one hundred ways to
propose to our Chief Proposer Suzie McKenzie, and post the results here for
your enjoyment. One thing’s for sure, not one of my proposals will be on top of
the Eiffel Tower with a dozen red roses.
‘You
can’t put that, we’ve had fifteen customers who want to propose like that over
the last week,’ I said, ignoring the sudden thundering of my heart that Harry
was going to propose to me.
‘Then
maybe they’ll have a rethink.’ Harry was already uploading a picture of a
diamond ring onto the blog.
‘Or ask
for their money back.’
But
Harry was still writing.
Day 1:
The Traditional Proposal. Location: Our office.
He
stood up and got down on one knee – yanking the snake ring off his thumb, he
held it aloft to my shocked face.
‘Suzie
McKenzie, you are my best friend and I cannot imagine finding anyone I would
rather spend the rest of my life with. Marry me.’
The
world stopped. My mouth was dry. How unfair was it that the one thing I wanted
most in the world was happening right in front of me and it was as real as a
pair of breasts on Sunset Boulevard.
I
wanted to snatch the ring off him, stuff it on my finger and march him down to
the nearest registry office. But I didn’t.
I
cleared my throat of the huge lump. ‘Too clichéd, wrong location, wrong ring.’
He
grinned as he appraised his ring and stood up, clearly not fussed by this
rejection. He started typing.
Crashed
and Burned. Apparently a snake ring with evil red eyes and the beige walls of
our cramped office isn’t good enough for her. I’ll try again tomorrow.
Surely
not. A hundred days of this torment? I didn’t think I could bear it.
He
looked at his watch. ‘Oh, I’ve got to go, hot date with Sexy Samantha again
tonight.’
Samantha
was his first girlfriend in nearly a year. When I first met him he seemed to go
through a different girl each week, so I wasn’t sure why he’d gone through the
sudden dry patch. But Samantha was definitely the type to tempt him out of it.
I’d had
the pleasure of meeting Sexy Samantha the night before. Suspicious of Harry’s
relationship with his best friend, she’d barrelled into my home and demanded
that Harry introduce me. I came downstairs in leggings and an oversized black
hoodie – I knew I was hardly dressed to impress. And impress her I didn’t. The
look of relief when Samantha saw me was palpable. She, on the other hand, was a
vision of heavenly loveliness. She was almost as tall as Harry, with long
blonde hair and curves everywhere. My eyes were immediately drawn to a big pair
of breasts, squeezed between an overly tight top. Harry was definitely a breast
man. All of his girlfriends were very well-endowed in the breast department. Some
of the breasts, I suspected, weren’t even real – though Harry didn’t seem to
mind. I was more in the straight up, straight down department, definitely no
curves and not really any breasts to speak of.
I
watched Harry log off his computer with haste and obvious excitement about what
Sexy Samantha had in store for him that night.
‘I have
a hot date too,’ I blurted out, watching for any flicker of jealousy. Of course
there was none.
‘That’s
great Suze.’ He looked genuinely pleased. ‘You haven’t seen anyone since Jack…’
He trailed off. My life was defined into two segments. Before Jack and After
Jack. I wondered if Jules felt the same. He grabbed his jacket, averting his
eyes from me, perhaps knowing that he had said something he shouldn’t. ‘It’s
about time you got back on the horse again. We can swap notes tomorrow.’
‘Or
not.’ I couldn’t bear thinking about that conversation. The literal ins and
outs of Harry’s date would be something I really didn’t want to hear. I’d
changed the subject twice that morning already when he started giving me
explicit details that would be right at home on the pages of an erotic fiction
novel. Sexy Samantha was far kinkier than those baby blue eyes might
suggest. Besides, what did I have to contribute to that conversation? My hot
date consisted of a tub of Ben and Jerry’s and a night in with the beautiful
Brad Pitt. I logged off my own computer, keen to show him I also had something
exciting to run off to.
‘Where
did you meet him?’
I
racked my brain as I fluffed out my hair in the reflection of a photo showing
me and Harry covered in snow and grinning ear to ear after sledging at the
indoor Snow Zone. Before Jack.
‘Skiing,’
I said, then wished I hadn’t.
He
stopped in his hasty exit. ‘Skiing? When have you been skiing?’
‘I go
every Sunday, skiing lessons, he’s my ski instructor.’ I was making it worse.
‘You
hate skiing.’
I had
said that hadn’t I. Because this photo was taken when we had our first and last
skiing lesson a year before. I had spent forty minutes falling on my bum – as kids
as young as five glided effortlessly past me – and the last twenty minutes of
the lesson, after Harry had been upgraded to the adult slopes, trying to get up
and rolling around on the floor with my skis in the air, looking like an
oversized beetle stranded on its back. Harry had felt sorry for me that I had
failed so spectacularly and had taken me sledging instead. Much more up my
street. There was no skill at all involved in sliding down a slope in a red
plastic sledge.
‘I like
it now. I’m very proficient. Obviously just needed the right instructor.’
‘Well
that’s great, maybe we can go together sometime.’
I fixed
a smile onto my face. ‘Maybe.’
‘What’s
his name?’
I cast
around for a suitable name and a suitable adjective to describe him, something
comparable to Sexy Samantha. I had nothing, no names in my head at all. The
only name in my head was Harry and that would be too weird. He was staring at
me, waiting for me to come up with a name, the silence stretched on. I had to
say something.
‘Tim.’
I almost shouted out with relief. ‘Tiny Tim.’
Great.
Just great.
Harry’s
face fell. ‘Tiny Tim?’
‘Yes.’
‘As
in…’ he waggled his little finger at me.
‘No,
no, of course not, he’s very big in that department. Big all over in fact.
Huge. It’s kind of an ironic name.’
‘Big
like me?’
‘Well I
have no idea how big you are in that department.’ My eyes cast down to the
sizeable bulge in his jeans and I felt my cheeks burn as he clearly saw me
checking him out.
‘I
meant in height,’ Harry said. I’m sure I saw his mouth twitch as he supressed a
smile.
‘Oh
yes, he’s very tall.’
‘Good.
That’s good. I have a friend who’s a ski instructor at the Snow Zone, he might
know your Tim. What’s his surname?’
‘Timmings.’
I was a
terrible liar.
‘Tim
Timmings?’
‘That’s
right.’
A horn
tooted outside and Harry peeled back the net curtain to wave at Sexy Samantha
as she leaned on the bonnet of her sexy red convertible. I didn’t think I’d
ever be so relieved to see her again.
‘Well
have fun.’ Harry threw me a cursory wave as he thundered down the stairs. A
second later I heard the front door slam.
I
peered out the window, hoping not to be noticed as Harry swept Sexy Samantha
into his arms and swung her round as if he hadn’t seen her in months. As he
deposited her on the floor she waved up at me and I was forced to wave politely
back.
With a
wheel spin and the stereo blaring out something young and hip, the red
convertible roared up the road, taking my heart with it.
I’d
been in love with Harry for two long, painful years and we were further away
today from getting together than we had been when we first met. We were now
firmly in the friend zone and there was never any coming back from that.
Two
years was way too long for unrequited love. It was time I moved on with someone
else. I would just fall out of love with him, simple as that.
I
sighed as I walked into my bedroom and got changed into my cow print onesie. I
flicked through some songs on my iPod until I found something suitably rousing
and as Gloria Gaynor started belting out ‘I am what I am’, I turned up
the volume, leapt up onto the bed and danced and wiggled my bum in time with
the lyrics. I was highly skilled in the playing of air drums and as Gloria
reached a crescendo so did my frenetic drum playing. As the instrumental kicked
in I leapt off the bed, doing the splits mid-air. I pulled a muscle in my groin
and as I flicked my hair theatrically out of my face I saw Harry’s eyes widen
in horror as I landed on top of him, one leg somehow hooked over his shoulder
as my other foot kicked him square in his crotch.
He
screamed in pain. I screamed with embarrassment as he staggered back and landed
hard on his bum, my leg still wrapped round his neck.
Gloria
was still singing loudly in the background as we stared at each other. Finally
I managed to speak.
‘What
are you doing here?’
‘Currently,
wondering if I’ll ever be able to have sex again. Can you please get off my
lap?’
I
quickly climbed off him, kneeing him in the face as I tried to stand up. He
slowly staggered to his feet, doubled over in obvious pain.
‘I
forgot my wallet,’ he said, by way of explanation.
I
swallowed. ‘You saw me dance?’
He
lifted his head and this time there was no mistaking the grin. ‘From the very
beginning to the dramatic finale.’
I
groaned.
‘I
better go, Samantha will be wondering where I am. Nice onesie by the way. Does
Tiny Tim have one too? A horse or a pig perhaps?’
I
stared down at myself, at the pink udders hanging limply from my stomach, and
wanted the ground to swallow me up. ‘He’s not coming round till later.’
‘Of
course not. And I imagine he thinks you look quite cute in it.’
Cute?
Puppies were cute. Is that how he thought of me, as a cute little puppy?
He
moved to the top of the stairs and I followed him.
He
turned and walked back up a few stairs, kneeling on the stair below me so we
were eye to eye. ‘Yes.’
My heart dropped. I was so far
in the friend zone I was now categorised as cute. He’d be patting me on the
back next and telling me he saw me like a sister.
‘Sexy cute?’
‘No.’
My heart sank into my feet.
‘I bet Samantha would look sexy
in it?’
‘I doubt it. I don’t think it’s
possible for anyone to look sexy in it.’
I felt slightly better at this.
‘And don’t underestimate the
value of cute, it’s a great quality to have.’ He leaned forward and kissed me
on the nose. ‘And don’t stay up too late, I have a big day planned for you
tomorrow.’
He ran
down the stairs and was gone a second later.
I
touched my nose, still feeling the softness of his lips. He thought I was cute.
I smiled as I fell in love with him all over again.
Dont
forget to pre-order your copy of One Hundred Proposals now. http://amzn.to/1ouP9w0
