Belle Hamilton is a romantic at heart. She's engaged to the love of her life and dreams of marriage, children and a happily ever after. Belle’s world is close to perfect until one afternoon she makes a decision she can't take back.
In the blink of an eye, Belle’s life spirals out of control. She loses everything that is dear to her and is forced to flee to the other side of the world where she meets Andrea, a local bartender from Rome, and develops an unexpected connection with him.
Can they break through the complications of past hurts and a long-distance relationship to make it work or will one terrifying night in Paris end it before it had a chance to begin?
Exclusive Excerpt:
She was back in the terrace kitchen in Pyrmont, having slipped away momentarily without meaning to. Time was ticking on and she had to focus and start preparing the linguine.
She washed her hands under the tap, dried them on her apron and was tipping flour onto the bench when something caught her eye. Ben’s suit jacket and tie were lying on the armchair by the fireplace. Not hung nor draped neatly, they’d been thrown there rather haphazardly, which she thought a little odd since he was so meticulous about the care of his suits. Maybe he’d changed in a hurry to get to the Ivy.
She was still tipping flour onto the bench, her mind tumbling over all the things she needed to get done before Ben arrived home, when she heard it. It was a noise above her, like a squeak, then a moan of the timber flooring. She froze, the packet of flour suspended above the stone benchtop. She strained her ears to listen, her body still, but then the sound vanished. The only discernible noise was from the ticking of the clock and her own heart thumping in her chest.
She released her breath—hadn’t realised she’d been holding it—and shook her head with a smile, feeling silly as she cracked eggs into her well of flour. The house was shifting, settling as the cool night air crept in. She really needn’t be so jumpy. She wasn’t used to being in the house without Ben. Usually, they had music playing, the coffee machine whirring in the background or the gas stove fired up. It was rarely this quiet.
She took another sip of wine and concentrated on the dough. Using a fork, she began incorporating the eggs, working her way outwards to mix in the flour.
She heard it again.
This time it was louder. Another squeak, and as she strained her ears and her eyes shot upwards to the ceiling, it sounded like voices. Yes, voices. Was someone upstairs?
She shook her head again, set down the fork and wiped her floury hands on her apron. She knew what it was. Ben was forever leaving the television on in his room. Voices of the evening news combined with the settling of the house were jangling her nerves. She shook off the ghosts, for of course there was no one in the house with her. Ben was out and she was quite alone.
She walked to the stairs, climbing them one by one with a determination that felt forced. Her footfalls were quiet as they sank into Ben’s luxurious Pierre Frey carpet, and when she reached the top, she paused on the landing to listen. There were sounds, definitely coming from Ben’s room. Muffled voices and it certainly sounded like the television set had been left on. Then it occurred to her.
Ben had moved that television set out weeks ago.
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Author Bio and Links:
Michelle Montebello was born and raised in Sydney, Australia, where she lives with her husband and two young children. She has always had a passion for reading, writing and the dramatic arts and she spent most of her childhood immersed in books, writing stories and performing in plays.
She has worked full-time in the corporate sector since 1998. It wasn't until she completed a writing course with James Patterson that she was inspired to write and publish her first novel, Interwoven, in 2017.
In addition to her writing, she also has a passion for travel and loves to combine her two favourite things - creative writing and travelling - to create vibrant worlds for her characters to explore.
When this busy mum is not working, chasing little ones or searching under beds for monsters, she can be found reading, writing or plotting her next story.
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