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My Christmas Number One
There’s nothing quite like a Christmas love story, to get you in the mood for celebrating…
Cara doesn’t do sexy and she only does ‘Happy Christmas’ under duress. She is, after all, a serious musician, and her stubborn streak is born from her struggle to recover from a serious injury.
Javi lives for escapist fun - in his music, and in his life - especially since he’s always failed at life’s more serious challenges, including marriage and fatherhood.
Javi and Cara are forced to record a Christmas single together, but neither of them have plans to spend any more time with each other than they absolutely have to. With Christmas traditions that couldn’t be more different, and outlooks on life that are worlds apart, the chemistry just shouldn’t work. But the magic of Christmas can bring even opposites together…
From the snowy beauty of London at Christmas, to the candle-lit magic of Javi’s traditional family celebrations, let Leonie Mack whisk you away on a memorable festive adventure. Perfect for fans of Trisha Ashley, Mandy Baggot and Holly Martin.
Excerpt
By the late afternoon, Cara’s head was fuzzy and she could no longer tell one version of her own voice from another, so she stowed her headphones with a sigh. She would go for a run and pick it up again tomorrow. The control freak in her had insisted on co-producing the album. She needed to be on top of every detail or she’d succumb to the whispered suggestions from her own mind that she wasn’t cut out for a career in pop music.
She could have chosen another career. With her father’s unwavering financial support, she could have studied to do anything. But music was as close as she’d come to passion. She’d spent five gruelling years being piddlingly successful on the UK indie scene because she couldn’t resist the pull of the songs in her head. After her record deal and her first charting single, she was sometimes nostalgic for those simpler days when less was riding on every song.
Nostalgia… The word had been in the back of her mind since her conversation with Freddie. How could that one word set off the painful memories she subdued every Christmas? The song was probably some frothy jingle with a sappy heart and a bit of Afro-Caribbean drumming. Wasn’t everyone who thought Christmas was the season of joy pretending, just a little? But that word, nostalgia, grabbed her by the guts.
She downloaded the demo to her phone and scanned the email. Freddie had sent her the link to the artist’s Wikipedia page and website and included a couple of lines of bio. Javi Félix. Was that his real name? He’d won a couple of Latin Grammys, but that was years ago. He’d released a new album entitled Por el Amor de Ella, which Freddie had translated as,‘For the love of her – or possibly it. Google translate wasn’t very helpful.’ She clicked on the Wikipedia link and read while she headed upstairs to change for her run.
Javier Félix Rodríguez Moreno was thirty-seven and enjoyed taking his shirt off in front of a camera. She had to admit he had the abs for it, and a handsome, strong-boned face, but his style was too conspicuous. His musical styles were gobbledegook to Cara – bachata, cumbia, salsa, tropical fusion – but she did see one word to make her nerves wobble – reggaetón. He’d had a good number of hits in the Latin charts, starting when Cara was still in school. He was based in Miami and had an ex-wife and a daughter.
The banner of his promotional website was professional and attractively beach-themed, but Cara wrinkled her nose. She couldn’t place herself in any of his promo photos. His smile was too big. His eyes twinkled with the promise of too many mojitos. Perhaps she could hide behind her biggest guitar. And a snowy Christmas video would mean more clothing, right? Did they have snow in Colombia? She had no idea. Could she place Colombia on a map? Somewhere north of Brazil, she was sure. Perhaps next to Venezuela. She was usually good at geography. She spoke bits of French and German from her private school education, but she’d never learned any Spanish. She was going to feel so stupid.
With her running prosthesis on and her earbuds in place, Cara paused outside the dignified Georgian building that housed her flat. Bristol in June was a far cry from the Caribbean at Christmas, but she had to give this song a go. After a few stretches, she switched on the music and headed up the hill.
Leonie Mack is a debut romantic novelist. Having lived in London for many years her home is now in Germany with her husband and three children. Leonie loves train travel, medieval towns, hiking and happy endings!
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