Also by this author: Crazy Undercover Love, Skating at Somerset House, New Year At the Ritz, Valentine's on Primrose Hill
Published by One More Chapter on 19th March 2015
Made in Chelsea?
Nathan Black is on a mission to prove himself. His family may be upper class and his cousin Matt might be a famous music producer, but he’s going to make it on his own. So as soon as he has enough money set aside, he’s quitting his bar-tending job on the King’s Road and opening up his own cocktail bar. He hasn’t got time for love, and definitely not with the spoilt Chelsea Princesses who flirt with him shamelessly every night. But is there something a bit different about the pretty blonde who’s just walked in?
Bournemouth girl Sofia Gold is reluctantly visiting old childhood friends in London for Easter weekend. Keenly aware she’s not part of their glamorous world, she’s more comfortable riding a surfboard than wearing designer dresses and towering heels… although she’s always had a soft spot for cocktails.
It’s never really bothered Sofia that she’s ‘one of the boys,’ and that her romantic experiences have been amazingly unspectacular, so when she meets gorgeous Nathan, why does she find herself faking an accent and pretending to be a London socialite? It can’t be anything to do with impressing him, can it? After all, she’s only in the capital for a few days…
But one impulsive kiss later, they both find themselves wishing for things they didn’t know they wanted.
Spring in Chelsea – will love blossom?
Advance review, ‘A fun, short read, 4 stars,’ Kim, Goodreads via Netgalley.
Praise for the #LoveLondon series…
Valentine’s on Primrose Hill
‘Uplifting and at the same time thought provoking too. I guarantee you’ll be hitting that button on Amazon to order the fourth book in the #LoveLondon series as soon as you’ve finished this one.’ Dawn, Crooks on Books
New Year at The Ritz
‘A sweet and flirty short story, I really enjoyed it. I can’t wait to see what Nikki comes up with for the next book in the series.’ Simona Elena, Sky’s Book Corner.
Skating at Somerset House
‘A warm hearted winter tale that had me engaged from the very beginning. I genuinely cannot wait to read the rest’ LJ Bentley, Amazon
‘Sexy, fun and everything you need in one neat, gorgeous package. This is a winner for me.’ Chicks That Read.
Sofia Gold sighed as she stepped into the trendy bar on the King’s Road. If she cared less about being polite, she’d be wearing her own clothes. Instead, she was tugging down the hem of the clinging, vibrant yellow designer dress Tori and Christie had wrestled her into and fighting the urge to pull the plunging neckline up a few inches closer to her chin.
While showing off tons of leg and cleavage wasn’t her at all, she had to admit the yellow outfit didn’t look too bad with her long golden hair, which Christie had made her straighten. It was just a shame she was being slowly crippled by towering four inch high heels. They might make her short legs look amazing, but the balls of her feet were already aching and they’d only left the girls’ exclusive white-pillared, black-gated residence twenty minutes before.
Of course she liked partying, enjoyed going out and having a laugh. After all skating ramps and riding the waves on her beloved surfboard couldn’t take up all of her spare time. She was also lucky enough to live in Bournemouth, and the coastal town had a great night life humming with stag and hen parties despite its reputation as the retirement capital of the south. The difference was, she usually went into town in tight jeans, mid-range heels at most and a cropped vest-top, not in outfits that felt designed to torture. Plus she drank at lively bars with the best, pulsing music and happiest, loudest crowd, not airy warehouse spaces with tons of lighting, exposed vintage-looking iron pipes and dark wooden floors packed with privileged and wealthy trust-funders.
But Tori and Christie were Mum’s best friend’s daughters and she’d promised to make an effort during this visit. If she offended them it’d be a giant dinosaur bone of contention with her mother for years. The idea of being on the wrong side of her mum was scarier than the thought of wearing the outfit for the evening.
‘You look lovely, Sof,’ Tori leaned close to whisper into her ear, ‘but you would look better if you stopped pulling at the dress constantly. Just try and own it.’
‘Thanks,’ Sofia murmured.
It was good advice.
Except she felt awkward and out of place. It wasn’t her scene.Everyone was on show, all the little circles of people air-kissing and studiously not watching each other while totally watching each other, there to be seen and talked about. What did she know about dressing in luxury brands and living it up with the glitterati in the capital? Nothing.
‘Come on darling, don’t stand there gawping.’ Christie grabbed Sofia’s elbow, wrenching her from her thoughts and steering her around a couple of smooth looking guys in casually stylish jacket and jeans combos. ‘Let’s order some champagne. Despite being on the French Riviera at the moment, Mummy was so pleased you agreed to come that we simply have to make the most of it. She’ll be very upset if she thinks we’re not looking after you,’ Christie continued sharply, her narrowed blue eyes bright against her English rose complexion.
Sofia nodded, letting the other girl lead her to a high, round table with black stools set around it, glad to sit down and take the weight off her feet. Trying to ignore the way the tight dress rode up her thighs, she glanced across at the assorted wall-mounted optics behind the bronze-tiled bar, smiling slightly. She guessed it wasn’t so bad here, because although hanging out with friends with cold beers on the beach was more her thing, she had a serious soft spot for cocktails. The colours, flavours and varieties were amazing and she loved watching barmen create dizzying concoctions. There was something ridiculously sexy about guys throwing and twirling bottles around in that confident, competent manner they had. Although that could be less to do with their skills and more to do with her long-time crush on Tom Cruise. The late 80’s film Cocktail, though dated, was one of her older sister Isobel’s favourites and they’d watched it a load of times as teens.
She studied the embossed ivory drinks menu. The booklet was thick, the cocktail list vast; champagne based, gin based, rum based, vodka based, whisky based, exotic, with a twist and traditional. She’d have preferred to stay in tonight after this morning’s tiring, chilly coach trip to Victoria and the stuffy, harried tube journey from there to Chelsea, but the cocktails would definitely serve as compensation for having to leave the house..