I HEART NEW YORK LINDSEY KELK PDF

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I Heart New York - Lindsey Kelk - Extract - Free download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read online for free. Get ready to meet Angela Clark as she flees. download or read book online in pdf or epub. [Read Online] I Heart New York | Book by Lindsey Kelk | Review, Discussion. DownloadI heart new york lindsey kelk pdf. Free Download e-Books You may try the following methods. I heart new york lindsey kelk pdf.


I Heart New York Lindsey Kelk Pdf

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Author: Kelk Lindsey I Heart New York · Read more Jealous Heart, Recorded by Al Morgan for London Records · Read more. Read “I Heart Paris”, by Lindsey Kelk online on Bookmate – From living the dream blogger Angela Clark—the starry-eyed protagonist of I Heart New York —is. Editorial Reviews. From Publishers Weekly. In Kelk's debut novel, rife with familiar chick-lit File Size: KB; Print Length: pages; Publisher: HarperCollins; ePub edition edition (June 25, ); Publication Date: June 25,

Jenny Lopez is miserable. Having spent the summer… More. Book Ik hou van Als de Britse Angela Clark haar verloofde betrapt… More. Shelve Ik hou van New York, Hollywood en Parijs. Book 4. I Heart Vegas by Lindsey Kelk.

A sparkling and romantic novel in the bestselling… More. Shelve I Heart Vegas. Book 5. I Heart London by Lindsey Kelk. Home is where the heart is.

Angela Clark h… More. Shelve I Heart London. Las Vegas en Londen by Lindsey Kelk. De Britse Angela Clark heeft een leuke baan en wo… More.

Las Vegas en Londen. Book 6. I Heart Christmas by Lindsey Kelk. Shelve I Heart Christmas. Jenny Lopez has had a crappy twelve months. Determ… More. And now my hands feel sweaty. Do I have sweat patches?

I tried to sneak a peak under my arms without dislodging anything important from my bouquet. Are you all right? Louisa frowned at me, a picture of perfection, calm as anything, immaculate make-up and not teetering a touch.

Lindsey Kelk

And her heels are higher than mine Uh-huh, I replied, as eloquent as ever. Thank God its her wedding and not mine. And please God, while 1 Im at it, could you not let Mark focus on what a shoddy bridesmaid Im turning out to be, just in case it puts him off setting our date. Seriously though, sweat patches would show horribly, the dress is a light coffee colour, specially selected to make me look sick as a dog. I stumbled down the aisle behind Louisa, with a small smile for my mum and dad, looking appropriately happy whilst acknowledging the solemnity of the occasion.

I really hope thats how I look, anyway. There is a good chance I look as if I am wondering whether or not Ive left my hair straighteners on. What if I have left my hair straighteners on?

Im always struck by how short wedding ceremonies are. The months of engagement, hours of planning, a whole weekend for the hen do even, and the lifelong deal was done inside twenty minutes and a couple of hymns. Even the photos took longer than the actual service. I cant believe Im married! Louisa breathed. Wed got to the not-at-all cheesy bride and head bridesmaid smiling by a fountain section.

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Oh dear. The poses came naturally, wed been practising them with each other since we were old enough to hang pillowcases off the back of our heads, after all. Angela, can you believe it? Of course I can, I said, squeezing her closely to me, ignoring the photographers direction. You and Tim have been practically married since you were fourteen. We switched positions and paused to smile.

Click, flash. Its just unreal, you know?

She flicked a soft blonde curl over her shoulder and patted a stray light brown hair back into my chignon. Its really absolutely happened. Well, get ready, I said through a pearly smile. Itll be me and Mark next and youll be the one in the bridesmaid dress.

Have you talked any more about setting a date?

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Louisa asked, fussing with the puddle train behind her. Was I supposed to be doing that? Not really, I shook my head. I mean, we talked about it all the time when you two finally set a date, but since Mark got promoted weve hardly had time to blink.

You know how it is. Louisa waved the photographer away for a moment. I just mean, do you think youll definitely get married? To Mark, I mean? Click, flash not a good one.

I had to hold my hands to my eyes to get a proper look at Louisa. The August sun lit her from behind, obscuring her face and highlighting a halo of wispy blonde curls.

Of course, I said. Were engaged arent we? She sighed and shook her head.

Yeah, I just worry about you sweetness. With the wedding and stuff I feel like we havent really talked about you and Mark in ages. Theres nothing new to tell you. You probably see him more than I do. At least you get your tennis time every single week. I tried to get you to take up doubles, she muttered, messing with her hem again.

I just want you to be as happy as I am right now. Oh, thats so patronizing, sorry. You know what I mean babe, just, be happy. I am happy, I reassured her, taking her hand and closing in on the dress for a scaffolded hug. I am really happy. Just after the speeches had finished but a little bit 3 before the dancing began, I finally managed to escape to the loo. The reception was being held in a converted barn, that only had two ladies cubicles, neither of which were big enough to turn around in, so I had escaped up to our room.

I looked around at my scattered belongings. I carried my life in my massive, battered handbag laptop, iPod, phone, a couple of knackered old books. Bits of make-up and scraps of clothes were strewn all over the room, contrasting with Marks carefully organized suitcase. A place for everything and everything in its place, even in a hotel. I was happy, I thought to myself, flopping down on the bed and idly flicking the pages of one of my books with my toes.

I had a fun job that was flexible, I had Louisa, the best friend in the world, and Id lost twenty pounds for this wedding, which had put me comfortably in the size twelve bridesmaid dress. I could even convince myself if no one else that a ten might have been a better fit. I wasnt horrible to look at, long, light brown hair, greeny-blue eyes and since I dropped the extra weight, Id discovered a pair of fairly impressive cheekbones.

And I had Mark. Who wouldnt love a good-looking, up-and-coming banker boyfriend? He should think himself lucky, I tried to convince myself. Yes, hes got all his own hair, no hereditary diseases, a city banker salary, car and a mortgage, but Id been attending horribly humiliating weight loss classes for the last six months it wasnt the weigh-ins that broke you, they were fine, it was the team leader who moonlighted as a dog trainer , I could cook and I cleaned the bathroom every Sunday without being asked.

So no, sainthood didnt beckon, but I wasnt an awful girlfriend and wed been together for ever, since we were sixteen. Ten years. But Louisas words bothered me a 4 little bit. Was I happy?

Maybe more content than bouncing-off-the-sofa-like-Tom-Cruise-ecstatic, but thats still happy isnt it? I looked at my engagement ring. Classic solitaire.

Not huge or flashy trashy, but not magnifying glass necessitating tiny. Mark had bought it with his first paycheque and presented it to me on a holiday to Seville, post-pony and trap ride and pre-lovely sex back at our hotel room, It had seemed horribly romantic at the time, but now it just seemed a horribly long time ago. Shouldnt he be pushing me for a date?

Just a little?

I Heart Paris

Dont be silly, I said out loud to my confused reflection. Louisa was probably just getting in front of herself, she was married now after all, I just hadnt expected her smug-married neuroses to kick in before shed even got out of the church.

There was nothing wrong with me and Mark. Ten years of nothing wrong, why would I worry?

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I tried to slip my beautiful, beautiful heels back on but my left foot seemed to have gained ten of my twenty lost pounds. After five fruitless minutes of searching the suite for my standby flats, I accepted that my shoe bag hadnt made it out of the car. Which meant I would have to brave the drunken uncles, the dancing children high on wedding cake I had seen balloons too they were armed and go to the car park. Over in a dark corner, hidden beneath beautiful weeping willows was Marks Range Rover.

When he had bought it six months before, Louisa had taken it as a direct sign that he was ready for kids. I saw it as a direct sign that he was not ever going to let me drive it on my own. So far, Id been the one proven right. Scrambling around in my handbag for the spare keys, I noticed that the reading light was on in the back. I smiled to myself, knowing Mark would be so happy that I had come out and saved his battery.

Pressing the button to turn off the alarm, instead of the reassuring double pip, I was greeted by a loud siren and flashing indicators. Which was when I realized someone was inside the car. Shit, our car was being stolen and here I was, hobbling barefoot over gravel with a pair of shoes in one hand and wearing a floor length gown.

And Id just set the alarm off. The car thieves were definitely going to kill me. If I was murdered at Louisas wedding, she would be furious. All her anniversaries would be ruined.

Would she still go on 6 her honeymoon?

Maybe I could use my heels as a weapon. Well, maybe not, I didnt want to stain them. But the soles were already red. I was all ready to turn and hightail it out of the headlines when I remembered my shoes. They could take Marks car but, damn it, they werent taking my fallback flats.

Two-year-old Topshop maybe but they were the comfiest damn shoes Id ever owned. I pulled open the back door to confront the thief before I bottled it. And then, in a startling moment of clarity, I realized there wasnt a man trying to steal the car or my shoes, but two people, very much having sex on the back seat. And one of them was Mark. Angela, he stuttered, his red sweaty face staring out at me, indentations from my Hello Kitty seatbelt protectors on his left cheek.

He wouldnt let me put them in the front. It took me another moment to register the naked woman underneath him. She looked at me, frozen underneath Mark, with smudged mascara and a red chin from Marks omnipresent five oclock shadow. I didnt recognize her at all, blonde, pretty, looked fairly skinny from what I could see of her bony shoulders, and she had a lovely tan.

A peacock blue silk dress scrunched up on the parcel shelf suggested she had been at the wedding reception, and the beautiful pair of silver Gina sandals clamped around my boyfriends waist told me I really should have spotted her earlier. I did love a nicely turned shoe. I came to get my flats, I said, numb, not moving. I stumbled backwards as Mark pulled himself out of the car on his belly and dropped to the floor in front of me, his boxer shorts working themselves further back down his legs as his sweaty skin peeled away from the leather.

I looked past him into the car. The girl had managed to get her dress on and was rubbing under her eyes to try to get rid of the mascara. Good luck, I thought, if its as good a quality as your shoes you wont get that off by rubbing. Shoes still looked great though. Angela, he tried again snapping me out of my shoeinduced haze.

I what are you doing out here? I looked back at him. Shoes, I said, waving my sandals at him and gesturing towards the car. You didnt bring my flats in. He stared at me wildly, glancing from me to my high heels and then back at the car. Slowly, as though I were a startled animal that might bolt, he took a step back towards the backseat and reached under the passenger seat for a small cloth shoe bag.

He held it out to me, afraid to touch me, afraid to make contact. I took the bag. Mark stood, bathed in the backseat light, red, sweaty, trousers off, socks and shoes on with a little wet patch growing on the front of his boxers to add insult to injury.

What the fuck are you doing? I asked. Incredibly eloquently. Angela, Mark shuffled forward half an inch. And who, the fuck, is she? I asked, pointing to the girl with my left Louboutin, still in my hand. The girl looked away, trapped in the back of the car. Angela, he stuttered, retreating from the perfectly pointed toe aimed at his temple.

No, Im Angela. I can see how you might be confused though, I said, feeling my eyes starting to well up. My boyfriend was having sex in the back of our car, our beautiful future childrens car, at our best friends 8 wedding. I was not going to cry in front of him while he pissed away ten years together on a cheap shag in a car park.

Angela, this is Katie. I, erm, I he looked back again and met her eyes briefly and I swear I saw a hint of a goofy smile cross his goddamned face.Before she knows it, Angela is dating two sexy guys. I Heart Hollywood by Lindsey Kelk. And Id just set the alarm off.

I looked past him into the car. Als de Britse Angela Clark haar verloofde betrapt… More. Oh no, she said, taking my hand.

The August sun lit her from behind, obscuring her face and highlighting a halo of wispy blonde curls. And you havent been working late.