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A Damsel In This Dress
A Damsel In This Dress
A Damsel In This Dress
Ebook70 pages1 hour

A Damsel In This Dress

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars



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About this ebook

As long as New Yorker Annie Ellis can remember, Christmas has been jinxed - even now, on the other side of the world in Australia, she can't escape.  It's Yule Fest in July and of course, disaster ensues and she's left alone, unemployed and jilted by her business partner/fiancé. 

Enter Dracula... aka hot-shot Sydney lawyer Noah Greene, who's kind of a big deal in this small country town. Noah Greene and his big, crazy, cheerfully pro-Christmas family. 

It just might be Annie's worst (and best!) non-Christmas ever.

PublisherPaula Roe
Release dateNov 29, 2018
A Damsel In This Dress
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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    I enjoyed the humor, twists in dealing with weird situations and happy endings.

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A Damsel In This Dress - Paula Roe

Chapter One

This was so not the way my life was supposed to go.

For the third time in as many minutes, the icy sidewalk slipped precariously under my Ferragamo-booted feet, the sparkling Christmas lights in the darkened storefront windows mocking me as I fought for footing.

I stilled, my heart pounding, then sighed. How on earth had I come from New York, my cozy shared apartment and a cool job with one of the city’s leading event planners to this... this nightmare?

I glared into the night, at the naked trees illuminated by the bright full moon, the tightly packed stores flanking the snow-covered main street of this small Australian country town I was now trapped in.

Okay, yeah, so I knew how – a smooth-talking, blond-haired, blue-eyed Aussie who knew exactly which buttons to push to keep me in a perpetual state of hope.  Damon knew how much I’d secretly feared turning out like my mother: a sour, man-hating woman full of resentment and disappointment. Her answer to every setback was your father was a selfish, charming asshole who left me with two kids which says a lot for the guy, especially if he had to put up with that kind of attitude every day.

After years of criticism, bitterness or just plain indifference, plus a strict savings plan, I’d escaped that tiny stifling Ohio town and headed for the bright lights of New York. I’d made a new life, got a job and suffered date after appalling date, because the guy of my dreams had to be out there somewhere, right? You had to kiss a lot of frogs – and boy, were there a lot! - to find him. I’d started to panic when I’d hit the big 3-0 two years ago. New York, for all its delights and wonders, was woefully deficient in decent, eligible men.

Damned stupid Sex and the City had a lot to answer for.

And then I thought I’d actually found Him - The One - working behind the counter of my local Java Jim’s (yes, he was a barista. No, I’m not one to judge). Cue the triumphant music, the streamers and confetti. Bring on the dancing girls, floating hearts and blooming flowers.

Yeah. Right.

Don’t ever assume your boyfriend of two years will propose during a romantic dinner, even after he hints he’s going to ask you something important... life changing, even!

Life changing, all right. Instead of ‘marry me!’ I got ‘let’s move to Sydney!’

I’d hidden my crushing disappointment as Damon kept talking, and eventually his overwhelming little-boy enthusiasm swept me up. Glamorous and exciting Sydney! The sun, the beach and a decent tan! So I’d swallowed my worries and convinced myself the great big unknown was actually a good thing.

That should’ve been my first clue: go with my first reaction. But nooo.

I just smiled and said yes. It was probably just his way of making a commitment, I rationalized. Working for an events planner, I’d seen my fair share of ‘marry me or get lost’ ultimatums, and I didn’t want to push him into something he obviously wasn’t sure about. Plus he made Australia sound so carefree, so different, so romantic. Who knew what’d happen when we got there?

I gave notice on my cramped three-girl apartment, sold my possessions (but not the fabulous designer-inspired wardrobe Bec and Chelsea had been coveting for years), bought an open-ended ticket to Sydney and took the plunge.

And now here I was. Me, the ultimate planner, throwing away my New York City life to make the biggest mistake ever. Because when Damon had said ‘Sydney’ he’d actually meant ‘Katoomba’, a backwater town two hours drive west and ten light years away. When he’d said ‘let’s set up an eco-tourism company’ he’d meant ‘we can use your money and you can be my unpaid office slave’.

When he’d said ‘I love you’ he’d meant ‘until someone better comes along.’ 

I thought I’d handled the first two with uncharacteristic stoicism, making the best of a bad situation, because you know, he loved me, right? And it was a new company and everyone had to start somewhere. Damon was a charmer and a total optimist and I’d been trying to be more supportive because according to him, I came across as ‘too self-sufficient and organized’. Apparently, guys need to make important relationship decisions, too. So I’d been torn between that, bitter disillusionment and fear of being alone – just like my mother - for the rest of my life.

A freezing wind whistled down the street and I lifted the collar of my winter coat (Claude Montana, half-price) to ward it off.  I’d toughed it out for nearly three months, doing everything from cleaning, spreadsheets, designing a website and swallowing that awful Indonesian sludge that Rat Boy Damon called coffee. I didn’t complain or judge, and I’d actually been proud of

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