That Certain Spark by Isobel Hart #Extract

Today I have an extract from contemporary romantic fiction, That Certain Spark by Isobel Hart.  First, here's a little about the novel.

 A one-bedroom apartment with creeping damp.

Depressed cat, complete with litter tray.

Neither was part of Claire’s five-year plan.

Nor, for that matter, was divorce.

Left with a comfort eating habit that’s costing her a small fortune in ice-cream, and panic attacks flooring her in front of the supermarket meals-for-one, Claire turns to her mum and Mindfulness in the hope that one of them can help her find real happiness.

She thinks she’s cracked it… but then her past comes creeping back.

Now she has to work out what really makes her happy or risk a life where Ben & Jerry are the only men who matter.

 

 

Extract

Claire is attempting to meditate when her cat decides to jump off the wardrobe onto her face. Her new neighbour comes running when he hears the scream.

 

I shuffle into my slippers and trudge to the door, sliding back the deadbolt. Peering out into the hallway I find my new neighbour, wearing only his pyjama bottoms.

“Is everything okay? I heard you scream.” He pauses as we stare at one another. “Dear God! Whatever happened to your face?”

I lean sideways to catch my reflection in the hallway mirror. Vivid red scratches line both of my cheeks. Blood is welling out of the cuts and now dripping off my chin. I consider myself for a moment, then look straight back at my neighbour as I tell him; “My cat jumped onto my face from on top of the wardrobe whilst I was meditating.”

He blinks at me for a second, then the corners of his mouth twitch. His shoulders start to shake and his body shudders as he struggles to compose himself. He fails and finishes up bent double, wiping his eyes.

As I wait for him to get control of himself again, I find myself oddly bewitched by the effect his laughter has on his abdominal muscles. Ben has turned a little fleshy over the years. This fellow’s abs are out and proud and dancing along to his surprisingly pleasant laughter. Then I recall what he’s laughing at. “Was there anything else?” I ask with as much dignity as I can muster when he appears to be in a position to hear me again.

“No.” He looks at my face and starts laughing again.

“Okay, well, good – have a nice day,” I say, closing the door.

I walk into the bathroom and dig out the TCP, then spend several uncomfortable minutes dabbing at the scratches with disinfectant-laden cotton wool. I’m quite the vision. I look like a character from one of the Scream movies. One of the characters that dies.

Sukie is cleaning her paws when I walk into the kitchen. Sitting in the middle of my table, paw curled to her mouth with her claws outstretched, she is pulling at each one in turn. Probably removing the pieces of my flesh she extracted.

About the Author

Born in London, Isobel Hart's childhood was spent in the Middle East before being sent to boarding school. It meant she had a lot of time to read. Now based in the UK, she writes about what she knows - real women, with flaws.

 

A romantic at heart, happily married for nearly twenty-five years, her novels focus on relationships - good and bad - and the women at the heart of them. She is ever hopeful others will find their happy-ever-afters or Happy-For-Now’s too.

You can follow Isobel here:  Facebook  |  Twitter  |   Website

Book links:  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Thanks to Isobel Hart and Rachel of Rachel's Random Resources for the extract and a place on the tour. 

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