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Description of Daisy Darling Meets A Man:
What would you do if you opened your door in the dead of night to find a handsome man on the other side? Holding an orphaned lamb.
After being dumped by her husband, Daisy wants nothing more than to curl up in her pyjamas every night and drink herself into sleep. She doesn’t want to face her life. Then, one night, a storm brings a stranger to her door. A stranger who turns out to be the most famous rock star on the planet, Hawk Moon.
Hawk is nothing like Daisy imagined a rock star would be. He’s honest and down to Earth and in the short time he’s in her life, Daisy finds herself feeling emotions she hasn’t experienced in a very long time. There’s something about Hawk that makes her want to start her life over.
But Hawk and Daisy will never be an item. Hawk is on tour. Daisy lives in the country. She’s small town and he’s the universe. Their worlds can never collide. Or can they?
Accolades:
5/5 stars by Tobi @ Forget the Housework, I’m Reading -
I would love to see more of Daisy, whether it’s another short or a regular length novel. Probably what Ms. Dale wants to hear from me! I read this book in about 3 hours and that’s with interuptions at bedtime with kids and hubs. A definite must for lunch break or just a quick read!
4/5 stars by Lea81:
Daisy Darling is a loveable and delightfully normal character who could easily be a real woman, even your next door neighbour!
This short tale of how Daisy meets a very impressive man is an easy and entertaining read with a glass of wine (or two) while stirring a pot of risotto.
LA Dale writes with an everyday voice, making her stories easily seem a true tale. I hope Daisy has a few more adventures along the way!
5/5 stars by Jen Tucker
Such a sweet novella you will devour! Daisy Darling is not to thrilled with the cards her life has dealt her lately. Yet that all changes on a stormy night in the countryside when a stranger knocks on her door. L.A. Dale knows how to craft chick lit tales that keep you glued to the pages. This is one of my favorite short stories of 2012!
Reviews:
Daisy Darling Meets A Man currently has a customer review rating of 4.5 stars from 5 reviews. Read the reviews here.
Daisy Darling Meets A Man is available for purchase at:
An excerpt from Daisy Darling Meets A Man:
“Okay, okay, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”
Daisy pulled an arm into Jack’s sloppy grey cardigan and yanked it down to cover her pyjama top. Tugging the sides together, she padded down the hall trailing her finger through the dust on the console as she went. I really must give the house a spring clean, she thought, instantly dismissing the idea as a waste of energy. Daisy hated housework. That was the beauty of living by herself. She didn’t need to bother so much. After all, it wasn’t like anyone was going to see it.
As she reached the door, Daisy exhaled a sigh of exasperation. All she’d wanted was to wallow a little longer, have a glass of wine or three then follow it with an early night to try and eradicate the dark circles that seemed to have popped up under her eyes. She didn’t want a visitor, particularly at this time. It had to be at least nine o’clock.
With one hand on the deadlock, Daisy steeled herself for the possibility of what lay on the other side of her front door. She could hear Rex, the Border Collie, barking but not in his ‘go away stranger’ bark. It was more of an excited bark, the type he did when Avery came home from school.
“God,” Daisy groaned to herself. “It had better not be Mrs. Hanson again.”
There were only so many more of her neighbour’s late night visits Daisy could tolerate. She was so over listening to Mrs. Hanson gossiping about other people in town. The woman was a human version of a tabloid newspaper and on more than one occasion Daisy had slipped up and almost become the subject of the gossip herself. It wasn’t like Mrs. Hanson even came to help. She merely stuck her blue-rinsed nose where it wasn’t wanted so she had a bit more gossip to spread. Yes, Daisy had been a bit down in the dumps since Jack had gone. And yes, the house was deathly quiet since Avery had returned to school in Perth but Daisy didn’t need a babysitter. She wasn’t quite ready to jump off the bridge just yet, thank you. That was a damn long way down.
On the other side of the door, a sudden deluge of rain began to pelt against the tin cladding that covered the walls of the house. A gust of wind whistled around the porch and blew plops of rain into the sidelight. Rex let out a playful yelp. It had been like that all evening, ten minutes of downpour, then silence for the next ten.
With the knocking becoming more insistent, Daisy flicked on the outside light and put an eye to the spyhole. A blur of what looked like a black leather arm stood on the other side and from the shape of it, it definitely wasn’t Mrs. Hanson. Not unless she’d grown an Adam’s apple and started wearing sheepskin vests.
“Who is it?”
From the other side of the door, a muffled, yet rather manly voice replied, “Henry.”
“Henry who?” She certainly didn’t know anyone called Henry, unless you counted Henry who volunteered with her at the Visitors Centre each Friday. And he wouldn’t be at the door at this time of night. He was lucky to remember what day it was at his age. Plus, he was only allowed to drive in daylight.
“Henry ….” A thump, a small bleating noise and some more barking smothered the rest of Henry whoever-he-was’ last name. Then there was thud, like the sound of falling, followed by some of the most colourful cursing Daisy had ever heard.
Daisy rolled her eyes. She guessed she had no choice. It was bucketing down out there and the person on the other side clearly sounded distressed. She’d have to open the door. Turning the snip, she pulled the door open a crack and peered around it into the night.
“Uh, hi.”
A man was lying in a heap on the doorstep, unable to move because of two rather large black and white paws that had him pinioned and a rough pink tongue that was leaving a trail of slobber over his jaw. A very tall, very good-looking man wearing dark denim jeans and a sodden leather jacket.
“Rex!” Daisy growled. “Down! Heel!”
Looking upset at having his fun spoiled, the dog disengaged himself and went to sit at Daisy’s feet.
“Sorry about that,” Daisy said. “He gets a bit excited at visitors.”
Brushing himself off, the man scrambled to his feet. Drips of rain splattered from the peak of the navy baseball cap that shielded his face. The man’s arms were gently wrapped around his chest, cocooning a furry white ball that squirmed on the outside of his jacket as he tried to lift it.
“That’s okay,” he began, his eyes wandering down her body and back to her face, taking in the indigo blue of her nightwear and old Ugg boots that kept her feet warm. “Sorry. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
Suddenly self-conscious, Daisy pulled the cardigan tighter around her body. She was aware that it was old and ugly but it was comforting. It had Jack’s smell.
“Can I help you?”
“I was wondering if this belonged to you.” With a slight smile, the man leant forward to show Daisy the contents of his arms.
“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, her face stunned with shock. “It’s Marsha!”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Marsha?”
“Long story.”
Daisy had six lambs grazing on the land at the moment, affectionately nicknamed The Brady Bunch because their tight wooly curls ranged in colour from black to sandy and they loved to get into mischief. The Brady Bunch had been her favourite show as a child, so the name had been a no-brainer really. “Where’d you find her?”
“On the road. I nearly ran her down,” he explained. “Shit!”
He held the lamb out before him as a spray of yellow liquid hit the floor of the porch. “I guess she wasn’t too happy with my driving.”
Avoiding the puddle, Daisy stepped out onto the doorstep and took the lamb from his arms. Instantly, Marsha quieted as Daisy stroked the soft wool along the top of her nose between her eyes. Poor little Marsha, her mother had died giving birth to her a few weeks back. Daisy had been hand-rearing her with a bottle ever since. It was hard to believe she’d gotten out of the enclosure. She didn’t usually go far from the rest of the flock. Now she was nearly run over.
She cuddled the lamb to her. “Thank you so much.”
The man ~ arms held out from his body like a wee-soaked scarecrow ~ gazed down at the huge patch of wet spreading over the crotch of his jeans. “No problem. I think.”
“You’ll need to get out of those jeans, pretty quick. Sheep wee is a real stinker. It lingers on the skin for ages.”
The man wrinkled his nose and wiped his wet hands on a dry patch on the side of his pants. “You don’t say.”
Then they stood looking at each other.
Hmm, Daisy thought. This was a bit awkward.
With a command to Rex to get back to bed, Daisy stepped through the door, making to go into the house with her charge. “So, um, thanks again. And, uh, have a safe trip.”
The man, however, appeared to have some idea of joining her inside the house. Abruptly, he reached out, barring the door from closing and giving Daisy so much of a scare that she almost jumped out of her Ugg boots. This in turn frightened the lamb, which began to bleat in a most distressed way.
“Look, I don’t mean to intrude,” the man yelled over the din, “But I put my car into the ditch outside your place when I swerved to avoid Marsha. I need to ring for help but my phone doesn’t seem to have any reception and I’ve got no idea where I am.”
“That’s because mobiles don’t work out here, not unless you stand under that tree.” Daisy pointed to a dead tree on the edge of the boundary about three hundred metros away.
“You’re joking, right?” He gave her a horrified look. Clearly, he thought she meant for him to stand out there in the rain to make his call, whilst covered in sheep wee.
Daisy looked up over his shoulder and into the black of the night. In a way, she guessed she wasn’t kidding. She didn’t know this man and she didn’t want to end up on an episode of Serial Killer Sunday ~ as his victim. He might be one of those weirdoes who drove up and down country roads looking for lonely women and using innocent lambs as his in. He could be some sort of psycho who’d been watching her with binoculars for ages waiting for his chance. Marsha mightn’t have even been on the road. You never knew.
A huge clap of thunder sounded overhead as if to alert her that she was in danger of over-analysing. Again. Things like that didn’t happen here. This was the country. The worst thing that had happened in the last six months was when Gwen Thompson had lost control of her supermarket trolley with the twins in and it had run through the plate glass window of the gym, ramming into the rather rotund bottom of Mrs Porter.
No. This man wasn’t a threat. He was simply someone in a spot of bother. And Daisy was always the one to help out someone in a spot of bother.
“Yes. Sorry. That was a joke. I shouldn’t tease. It’s always getting me into strife.”
“Is it okay if I use your phone, then?”
“Of course. Come in. The least I can do is offer you a fire and a glass of wine while you wait especially after what you did for Marsha. I might even be able to rustle up a spare set of clothes so you can take those smelly ones off. I’m Daisy, by the way. Daisy Darling.”
“Henry Moon.”
Leading the way, Daisy walked back down the hall towards the kitchen, turning on the lights as she went. Henry Moon? She was sure she’d heard that name before. If only she could remember where. Maybe she should ask him.
Daisy Darling Meets A Man is available for purchase at:
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