eBook Details

Miranda's Big Mistake

Miranda's Big Mistake

By: Jill Mansell | Other books by Jill Mansell
Published By: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: Jun 01, 2009
    
EligiblePrice: $14.00
Available in: Secure Adobe Epub eBook, Secure Adobe eBook
 
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Description
Now a New York Times and USA Today Bestseller!

Miranda's track record with men is horrible.

Her most recent catastrophe is Greg. He seems perfect—gorgeous, witty, exciting. And he and Miranda are in love… until Miranda discovers he left his wife when he found out she was pregnant.


With the help of her friends, Miranda plans the sweetest and most public revenge a heartbroken girl can get. But will Miranda learn from her mistake, or move on to the next "perfect" man and ignore the love of her life waiting in the wings…


Even the worst mistake of your life can lead to true love in the end…


See what people are saying about this irresistible summer read from international bestselling author Jill Mansell:



"An exciting read about love, friendship and sweet revenge - fabulously fun."

Home and Life


"Both laugh-out-loud funny and tear-jerkingly sad…You won't put it down."

New Woman


"Watch and learn as Miranda wreaks her sweet revenge—and memorize her sharp one-liners."

Cosmopolitan (UK)


"A jaunty summer read."

Daily Mail


"Fast, furious, and fabulous fun. To read it is to devour it."

Company


"Pick this up at your peril: you won't get a thing done till it's finished."

Heat Magazine

 
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Excerpt:

Excerpt from Chapter 1


It was the first day of April. Seeing the reception desk temporarily unmanned, Miranda snatched up the ringing phone.


'Fenn Lomax salon, how can I help you?'

'Hello.' It was a male voice. 'I need a complete restyle.'

'We do have a long waiting list,' Miranda warned, uncapping a pen with her teeth. 'Could I have your name, please?'

'Bruce Willis.'

Over the phone, she heard gales of background laughter.

'Oh ha ha, well done, very good,' Miranda recited dutifully. 'If only Eddie Izzard was as witty as you.' She rolled her eyes at Bev, the salon's glamorous receptionist, now racing back from the loo.

'Who was that?' said Bev as Miranda hung up.

'An imbecile. April Fools' Day, don't you just love it?'

Grabbing her coat and rummaging in the pockets, Miranda dragged out one green woollen glove and one pink leather one. Well, imitation leather.

Bev's manicured blonde eyebrows went up.

'Lunch break already? It's only half past eleven.'

'Indentured servitude.' Making sure she wasn't being watched, Miranda pulled a face. 'Cigarettes for Alice Tavistock. And a box of herbal tea bags. And half a dozen first-class stamps. That woman, honestly, I don't know why she doesn't write out her whole week's shopping list, pack me off to Sainsbury's and be done with it.'


'And when you've finished that,' Bev suggested helpfully, 'you could valet her car.'

'Pop her washing round to the launderette.'

'Mow her lawn.'

'Fill out her tax return.'

'Clean her loos,' Bev blinked innocently, 'with her own toothbrush.'

'Miranda, are you still here?' Fenn Lomax, emerging from the VIP room, shot her a look of disbelief.

'Sorry, Fenn, no, Fenn, I'm gone.' Miranda jammed her gloves on, getting three fingers stuck in one thumb-hole. She grinned at Bev and made a dash for the door. 'Back in ten minutes, okay?'

Fenn called after her, 'Make that five.'

Since Fenn Lomax had landed himself a regular slot on the hugely popular TV show It's Morning! his client list had blossomed beyond recognition.


As the show's producer had pointed out, he was a seriously attractive heterosexual hairdresser. How could he fail?

The female producer had been right.

With his streaky-blond shoulder-length hair, thickly fringed hazel eyes and come-to-bed smile, Fenn had a way with women and scissors that had done his business no harm at all. No longer buried in the back streets of Bermondsey (special rates for pensioners on Mondays and Wednesdays), he had been catapulted upmarket to the altogether glossier pavements of Knightsbridge's Brompton Road (special rates never). Celebrities queued up, for months sometimes,for the privilege of shelling out two hundred and fifty pounds and being able to boast to friends, journalists…well, anyone who'd listen, basically, that theirs was a Fenn Lomax cut.


Nowadays you could spot his clients a mile off, thought Miranda, teetering on the edge of the curb as a chauffeur-driven limo pulled up inches from her toes. The snow had all but melted now, leaving only squelchy dregs, but the woman emerging from the back of the limousine was kitted out in enough fur to see her through a hike across the Antarctic. Gingerly, in her fur-lined boots, she picked her way through the slush.

Miranda's Big Mistake
By: Jill Mansell
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