Babe Driven by Lizzie Chantree

Harriet’s wonderfully successful business, Babe Driven, is the talk of the town, but her world is about to come crashing down around her, and the threat seems to be coming from inside her own family. For someone who stays out of the limelight, even though her new company is the hottest ticket around, she’s going to have to avoid the front pages of every newspaper if she wants to survive the ride!

SKU: B00FAUT0SS Category: Romance Tags: contemporary fiction, fiction, friendship, love, women's fiction

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About the author:

Lizzie lives with her gorgeous family and a very unusual dog. In between the school run and baking cakes (or burning them!), she sits in her rooftop studio daydreaming about gaps in the market and how she can fill them. Love’s Child is her second novel, she is currently writing her third.

What inspired you to write your book?

It has made me fall in love with writing and my daughter thinks it is wonderful too!

Here is a short sample from the book:

Pushing the door open, finally, with bag-laden hands, Harriet stepped inside the marble hallway and gazed in awe at the surrounding finery. Her travelling companions tried to see into the villa and their inquisitive faces crowded around her, almost pushing her over the cases she had just put down. She braced her legs and held them back. For once, in all the time they had known each other, each and every one of them was stunned into silence.
‘Okay Harry, I know you’ve managed to pull a few fast ones in your time, but how on earth did you manage this?’ squeaked Alex accusingly to the back of her sister’s spiky blond head.
Turning slowly, Harriet’s dark brown eyes gradually focused on her sister, wishing her voice wasn’t quite so high and grating when she was cross. ‘I told you; a friend had a free week’s holiday here at short notice; and practically insisted I take it on. They wanted to repay a favour I’d done for them recently, that’s all. I know my friend isn’t in the poorhouse or anything, but I never expected this.’
‘So, what is this friend of yours called then? You’ve never mentioned her before,’ queried Alex, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.
‘Nikki,’ said Harry, as she moved forward into the hallway, leaving everyone else standing mutely on the doorstep, as if their presence might disturb the beautiful serene feeling which engulfed the cool inside of the villa.
‘Well!’ came a loud voice from the back, ‘I for one am not complaining.’ Picking up her hand luggage and huge suitcase, Lucy, a petite, peroxide blond bombshell practically climbed over the two in front, deposited her bags to one side and threw open the nearest door. This seemed to set in motion a chain reaction, as suddenly everyone was rushing to the nearest doors with ‘Oohs,’ and ‘Aahs,’ as they glimpsed the enticing luxury inside.
‘Apparently the bedroom on the right is mine, but help yourself to whichever of the others you like,’ called Harry to no one in particular.
Turning from, what seemed to be, a large reception come sitting room with a low rectangular glass coffee table in the centre surrounded by four soft white couches, Harriet placed her hand on the shiny, chrome handle of the door that was to be her room, and swung it open. A small smile crept onto her lips and her eyes crinkled with humour. A week ago she had been wondering where she had gone wrong in her life, and just look at her now. One whole side of the room was taken up with a stunning wooden bed with huge carved feet. The bed was creatively strewn with layers and layers of the finest linen in hues of red and burnt orange. Plump cushions lay scattered against the backboard, which seemed to be portraying a carved scene of many entwined lovers. Harry blushed, and wondered if any of them were Nikki, then closed her eyes as the thought made her feel a bit sick. It looked as though the whole room was made just for this glorious bed, as there was absolutely nothing else in it!
On closer inspection there were two sets of handles in the wall, on either side of the bed. Frowning and pulling the first set, Harriet was once again speechless. The handles were attached to double doors, which had been designed to blend in carefully with the walls. The first set of doors revealed a walk-in wardrobe with space for an abundance of clothes, shoes and anything else you might need, alongside which was a delicately carved dressing table. The table was made to complement the bed, but was far more refined and delicately carved. There were jars and bottles of perfumes and creams to one side all neatly laid out, and two sumptuous white fluffy dressing gowns hanging on the wall next to this.
Not being able to resist, Harriet reached out and laid her hand on the dressing gown, bringing the softness of the fabric into contact with her face and inhaling the aroma of fresh lemons. Sighing with contentment, she opened the lid of one of the jars of hand cream and soothed a little onto her hand. Well, Nikki had said to help herself to anything. The fragrance was heavenly.
Retracing her steps and peering into the second door, she couldn’t believe her luck. There in the centre of the room was a Jacuzzi, big enough for a party of people, a sink unit of the same wooden design as the bed and dressing table, and a double shower unit. The colour scheme throughout comprised the same deep reds and terracottas, with polished wooden floors and absolutely no clutter. Lighting was hidden discreetly in the ceiling, and air conditioning left the rooms feeling cool and comfortable after the heat outside.
At the far end of the bedroom stood huge wooden doors with sheer glass at the centre. Strong rays of sunlight shone through, sending spirals of colour dancing across the floor. Opening the doors and stepping out onto the decked balcony outside, Harriet stopped short as the strength of the sun’s heat washed over her almost immediately.
‘Hey guys, you are not going to believe the view from here,’ she called whilst hitching her T-shirt over her head and exposing her skin to the sun.
‘You’re not wrong there!’ came an answering retort to her right, followed by a rather lame, and exceptionally late cough of warning.
Grabbing her T-shirt, which was still hooked over her hands, to cover her chest, Harriet gulped some air into her lungs and turned to face the inevitable embarrassment. Let’s face it, it couldn’t get much worse. Then again, perhaps it could. There on the balcony of the next villa, which was indecently close to where she was standing, also looking out at the sea, were the smiling faces of six or seven young men of various ages. Forgetting to cover her breasts, well they’d already seen them, she pushed up her T-shirt to cover her face and walked rapidly straight back into the shower fully clothed, and turned it on full blast.