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When I read reviews by reviewers who say they ‘identified
with the heroine’, I’m sometimes a bit bemused: I’m never quite sure how one
can identify with a witch, or pointy-eared princess, or red-eyed demoness. I probably lead a very dull life.
However, I really, really did identify with this one. Seventy-one-year-old
Sandy has had enough: enough of cooking turkeys (which, as a vegetarian, she
doesn’t eat), enough pies and enough shortbread cookies. She’s had enough
bickering, feuds over the Xmas dinner goodies, and fisticuffs with the mince
pies. Solution? Run away.
Well, not so much run away, as down tools and leave them all to it. I’m not in my seventies, and I do have a very
lovely family, but I have had enough of cooking turkeys, fat-splattered ovens,
and endless washing up. Don’t tell
anyone, but I really would like to take a leaf out of Sandy’s book and do a flit!
Sandy picks what she hopes will be the perfect spot to enjoy
her fuss-free Xmas and finds an expected but very welcome little bit of
icing on her own Xmas cake in the form of a gentleman.
A sweet and entertaining little seasonal tale sprinkled with
charm, appeal, and feel-good: qualities I am beginning to become accustomed to
from this author who knows how to strike the right chords.
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