Staying at Daisy's

Staying at Daisy's

4.1 241
by Jill Mansell

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Life is easy, it's men she'll never figure out...

When hotel manager Daisy MacLean meets cocky sports hero Dev Tyzack, it's a no brainer-stay away. He is arrogant and sarcastic-but also incredibly sexy.

Daisy tries her best to steer clear of him, yet soon comes to realize he is the one guest she can't bear to see leave.


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Life is easy, it's men she'll never figure out...

When hotel manager Daisy MacLean meets cocky sports hero Dev Tyzack, it's a no brainer-stay away. He is arrogant and sarcastic-but also incredibly sexy.

Daisy tries her best to steer clear of him, yet soon comes to realize he is the one guest she can't bear to see leave.

Then she learns a devastating truth: most people are not who they seem to be, for better or worse...

From the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author-smart, sassy, savy women's fiction that never disappoints!

"Another jaunty read about life, love, and laughter." -Reading Evening Post

"Engaging, warm, and entertaining romp." -Liverpool Echo

"There's trouble at Daisy's hotel when she has to deal with a colourful set of wedding guests and her own troubled love life. Sure-fire bestseller from Queen of chicklit, Mansell." -Heat

"A lively, appealing, and sassy comedy of errors about second chances...Romantic storyteller Jill Mansell is in top form."-Nuneaton Evening Telegraph

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Editorial Reviews

From Eloisa James's "READING ROMANCE" column on The Barnes & Noble Review

Most women would agree that it's preferable to be labeled a goddess than "hardheaded." It's true that Cat Stevens celebrates his hardheaded woman -- she'll "make me do my best" -- but Elvis Presley has a different take, calling her "a thorn in the side of man." Love songs aside, a man with a "head like a rock" is not high on my list of ideal spouses. However, these five novels make a strong play for the desirability of a stubborn partner. The problem is that a hardheaded person is likely to have planned out his or her life without including you. And he or she is unlikely to want to change direction.

Julia London's A Light At Winter's End is a complex and heartbreaking novel about a country western songwriter, Holly Fisher, whose sister has a breakdown and dumps her baby on Holly's doorstep. Heather graduated valedictorian, married the perfect man, and wears diamonds and heels. Holly, on the other hand, has stubbornly kept writing country music her entire life, in the face of her family's conviction that she's a drifter and a failure. Holly's career is finally taking off when she has to move to the country to take care of the nephew she hardly knows. Her neighbor turns out to be a lonely cowboy, Wyatt Clark, who knows more about babies than she does, since his wife left him, taking their child. Together Holly and Wyatt forge a sweet, tentative, and joyful family -- until Heather reappears. When Holly, sans baby, is swept off to Nashville, she leaves Wyatt behind. She's spent her whole life fighting to be a singer, and she can't imagine changing direction -- even just to include Wyatt in her plans. It takes her quite a while to realize that she'd been a fool to think that her life had to go as planned. When she tells Wyatt that she misses him, that she loves him more than anything, "more than music," it's doubly romantic because we've watched her fight so hard against that realization.

Jill Mansell's Staying at Daisy's features another woman whose stubbornness almost costs her a happy future. Daisy MacLean's husband was in a car crash with the girlfriend Daisy knew nothing about -- and who turned out to be pregnant. So Daisy avoids charming men like her former husband, especially Dev Tyzack, a sarcastic, gorgeous man with the habit of saying things like, "You know, if you relaxed more, I'm sure you could find a husband." Daisy doesn't kill him on the spot, which is a tribute to her self-control. But her self-control is also the problem: she can't relax enough to admit that Dev might break the mold. Like Holly, Daisy cannot picture a future other than the one she has planned for herself. It takes a head like a rock to inform Dev that now they've had their fling, "you and I will never see each other again, and we'll all live happily ever after." But in her blow-off is the clue to the hardheaded person's primary mistake: they have already decided exactly how to live happily ever after. It's not easy for Daisy to take the plunge and realize that a safe life is not necessarily a happy one.

Cathie Linz's hero in Bad Girls Don't knows exactly what he doesn't want in his life: chaos. Skye Wright, a single mom, belly dancer, and self-proclaimed free spirit embodies chaos. Sheriff Nathan Thornton is repelled by the very idea of a girl with a purse full of unpaid driving tickets, and the conviction that waving a smudge stick around her apartment will "cleanse" it. Too bad this former Marine's commonsense is overruled by fierce desire. This is an enchanting novel, full of funny characters and -- at its heart -- a stubborn man who does his best to resist when Skye dances her way into his life. As with Daisy, there's a tragedy at the heart of Noah's stubborn wish to color within the lines. And in her own way, Skye is just as hardheaded: she wouldn't have considered a policeman as a boyfriend in a million years. But as she says, Noah doesn't "kiss like an uptight cop." Noah and Skye bring out the best in each other: he grounds her, and she takes the edge off his cautious approach. If you haven't discovered this happy, funny book, grab it -- and then save it for a rainy day.

Tamara Hogan's Taste Me offers a fascinating riff on a similar couple. Scarlett Fontaine is a rock star with all that label entails -- fans, grueling tours, amazing musical ability, a wild lifestyle. Lukas Sebastiani is a lot closer to Noah. He's not a cop -- and since this is set in a paranormal parallel universe, he's actually an incubus -- but as head of Sebastiani Security, he has a cop mentality with, as he puts it, "control issues." He doesn't want to be with Scarlett because he can't be absolutely certain that he can protect her: "Intellectually, he knew that he had to step back, let her take risks, to live her life -- beautiful, wild, and free." This makes Scarlett sound a bit like a lioness in Born Free, but Lukas's and Scarlett's clash is classic. Where Scarlett sees a shooting star, Lukas sees space debris hitting the atmosphere. Taste Me is a fantasy, with a secondary plot that involves a crazed murderer with a possession problem. But the fun of the story isn't merely in its paranormal flourishes (though the co-existence of Annie Leibowitz and fairies is a burst of creative anachronism) but in the collision of two hardheaded people. Both Taste Me and Bad Girls Don't make it clear that airy-fairy, politically correct girls can be just as narrow-minded as the obstinate, conservative men who long to keep them safe.

Molly Harper's How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf pushes the pairing of a free-spirited heroine and a hero with uncanny abilities and over-protective instincts to hilarious extremes. Mo Weinstein has dropped everything in her life, put her belongings in a beat-up Ford, and rented a tiny house in Grundy, Alaska -- as far from her parents and the "lower 48" as possible. In short, she's the epitome of a free spirit, although she desperately wants to deny that her hippie parents had anything to do with her choices. Mo's first rebellion had her almost married to a Christian Conservative with membership in the Steak of the Month club; her second takes her to Alaska. She meets Cooper Graham as soon she enters Grundy. He's the opposite of the "normal" man she hopes to find: he's a werewolf who hates back-to-nature weirdos (read "free spirits"). And Mo realizes, with a sinking heart, that he's just her type: "That cinched it. He was an asshole. I was definitely going to end up sleeping with him." How to Flirt is a rollicking, sweet novel that made me laugh aloud. Cooper is the epitome of a stubborn male, determined to stay far away from Mo until he's certain he can protect her. But it's really Mo's wise-cracking, hilarious voice that makes this novel such a pleasure to read.

There's a canonical base to each of these novels, obviously: opposites attract. But I think the real pleasure of watching an obstinate man or woman fall in love is that they try so passionately to avoid it -- and that burst of emotion makes for great romance. When Lukas, in Taste Me, finally succumbs to the lust and love he's been fighting, Scarlett says he "tasted of coffee and desperation": that desperation is a reader's treat. It's hard not to finish reading these five novels and find yourself agreeing with Cat Stevens: once a hardheaded man (or woman) stops fighting the conviction that he don't want you, "the rest of your life will be blessed."

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staying at daisy's

By Jill Mansell

Sourcebooks, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Jill Mansell
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4022-4386-8


In the absence of a gavel, Hector MacLean seized a heavy glass ashtray and rattled it against the mahogany-topped bar.

'Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please. Quiet at the back there, you Aussie riffraff. I feel the need to propose a toast. Over here, darling, over here.' Beckoning Daisy towards him, he slung an arm round her waist. 'And now would you all raise your glasses ... to my beautiful daughter.'

'To your beautiful daughter,' chorused everyone in the room, causing Daisy to roll her eyes.

Honestly, did he have to be quite so embarrassing?

'You missed a bit out,' she told him. 'What you actually meant to say was "To my beautiful, intelligent, and staggeringly hard-working daughter, without whom this hotel would crumble and go out of business within a week."'

'All that. Absolutely. Goes without saying.' Hector gestured expansively with his tumbler of Glenmorangie. 'Everyone here already knows that. Just as they know you're also stubborn, bossy, and incredibly lacking in modesty. But I'm still proud of you. Considering all you ever did at school was smoke and play truant, and your mother and I never thought you'd amount to anything, you've turned out pretty well. And now, for my next toast, I'd like you all to raise your glasses once more to dear old Dennis.'

'Dear old Dennis,' they all bellowed back at him, even those guests who hadn't the foggiest idea who Dennis was. That was the thing about Hector MacLean, his enthusiasm and joie de vivre was infectious.

As usual, Daisy marveled, and in no time at all, a quiet gathering for a few drinks had turned into an impromptu, rip-roaring party. It wouldn't be long now before her father called for his accordion and got the dancing underway. The fact that they were all supposed to be taking advantage of these few relatively peaceful days—the Christmas guests having departed and the New Year's Eve ones yet to arrive—was of no consequence to Hector. The fact that it was December the twenty-eighth was, as far as he was concerned, a good enough reason to celebrate. Why take it easy when you could be having fun?

Daisy, glad that her spritzer was nine-tenths soda water, eased herself onto a bar stool while her father greeted a couple of late arrivals as though they were his dearest friends.

'At last! How marvelous! Listen, we're in danger of having a bit of a knees-up—either of you two handy with a piano?'

One of the Australians materialized at Daisy's side as she was busily lining her empty stomach with cashews and roasted almonds. Not ideal but better than nothing.

'Your dad's a character. When this place was recommended to us, we thought Jeez, some old country house hotel full of la-di-da tweedy women and pompous old colonel types, no way. But our friends promised us it wasn't like that here, and they were right. This place is great.'

'You may change your mind,' said Daisy, 'when my father gets his bagpipes out.'

'You're kidding!' The Australian's face lit up. 'He actually plays the bagpipes?'

'No. He just thinks he can. If you know what's good for you,' Daisy whispered, 'you'll persuade him to stick with the accordion.'

He laughed, even though she hadn't been joking.

'And who's this other guy we just drank to, dear old Dennis? Is he someone else who works here?'

'Ah well. Dennis is our benefactor. Without him,' Daisy explained, 'we wouldn't have this hotel.'

'You mean he owns it?'

Behind the bar, Rocky casually flipped a tumbler into the air and caught it. No one was currently drinking cocktails but he did it anyway. Grinning at Daisy, he began to whistle a catchy tune.

'You probably know Dennis,' Daisy told the Australian. Tilting her head in Rocky's direction she added, 'If you recognize that song, you definitely know him.'

Standing next to the Australian, Tara Donovan joined in the whistling. The Australian frowned. 'It's that kid's thing, yeah? Dennis the Dashing Dachshund? I'm sorry, you've lost me.'

Unable to help themselves—they'd started so they'd finish—Rocky and Tara whistled and jiggled their way through to the end of the song.

'My father may not have been blessed with many brilliant ideas in his lifetime,' Daisy said fondly, 'but twenty-five years ago he had an excellent one. He came up with Dennis.'

'You're kidding! Are you serious? That's incredible!' The Australian slapped his knee in delight. 'I used to buy those books for my kids.'

Rocky was well away now, tap-dancing behind the bar and singing under his breath, 'My name is Dennis, the dashing dachshund,' because Dennis danced like Fred Astaire and Rocky liked to show off the fact that he had been to stage school.

Actually, Daisy amended, he just liked to show off. Then again, it was why she had hired him in the first place.

'Dad used to make up stories for me when I was small,' Daisy told the enthralled Australian, 'about this effeminate dachshund. But I didn't know what he looked like so Dad started drawing pictures of him. I took the pictures into school, told the stories to my friends, and the next thing we knew, all the mothers were asking where they could get hold of these Dennis books their kids kept pestering them for. So Dad sent his stories off to a publisher and they snapped them up. Then a TV company got involved and Dennis fever took off—soft toys, games, pajamas, the whole merchandising malarkey. All from one dear little idea. Dad sold the rights five years ago and bought this place,' Daisy concluded. 'So you see, we owe everything to Dennis.'

'I used to have a Dennis the Dachshund duvet cover,' Rocky put in cheerfully. 'And Dennis slippers with ears on them that waggled when you walked.'

'I had Dennis everything.' Daisy groaned and pulled a face. 'By the time I was nine it was embarrassing. All I cared about then was Madonna.'

One of the late arrivals was being persuaded to go and fetch his harmonica; he might not be able to play the piano but, Hector assured him, a mouth organ would do just as well.

'I love this place,' exclaimed the Australian. 'I must go and talk to your dad.'

'Are you all right?' Rocky leaned across the bar and lowered his voice as the man moved away. 'You look a bit ... knackered.'

'Me? I'm fine!' Daisy realized he'd caught her off guard for a moment. What was the difference between putting on a brave front and telling a great big bare-faced lie? 'Of course I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?'

Rocky shrugged, reached for the silver tongs, and lobbed a couple of ice cubes into a tumbler.

'Thought you might be missing Steven. When's he back?'

'New Year's Eve.' Scooping up another handful of nuts, Daisy gave him a bright smile. Rocky wasn't wild about Steven, she knew that, and he might even have an inkling about the events of the previous week, but there was no way in the world she was going to blurt out the whole story. She hadn't told a soul. Not Tara, not even her own father. For now, she just had to carry on as if nothing was wrong.

'Because if you're feeling a bit lonely, I know just the thing to cheer you up.' Rocky waggled a playful eyebrow as he said it, flashing her his naughtiest Robbie Williams smirk. 'I'm young, single, and available. Not to mention totally irresistible.'

Rocky was twenty-three, with a wicked smile and a peroxide crop. His favorite band was Oasis, which meant she could never fancy him in a million years.

'It's really kind of you to offer.' Solemnly, Daisy patted his hand. 'But you're five years younger than me. You think Liam Gallagher's a cool bloke.' She frowned, pretending to think for a moment. 'Oh yes, I knew there was something else. And I'm married.'

'You don't know what you're missing. I'm at my sexual peak.'

'I'm still married.' God help me.

Rocky said, 'Is that all that's stopping you? I'm sure we can sort something out.' Privately, he didn't think much of marriage if what Daisy and Steven shared was a shining example. Daisy might be pretending everything was great, but you only had to see the two of them together to guess there were problems. The chief one being the fact that Steven Standish was a prize prat.

'What are you two talking about?' Tara shimmied up to them in search of more wine. Drinking and partying was so much more fun than being a chambermaid, she couldn't imagine why she wasn't allowed to do it for a living. She'd make such a great It girl, if only she could have been christened Tinker Tonker-Parkinson. Fate was truly unfair.

'Sex,' Daisy announced with a wink. 'And the fact that poor old Rocky here isn't getting any.'

'I didn't say that. I didn't say I wasn't getting any,' protested Rocky, who wasn't. 'I just offered Daisy the opportunity of a lifetime and she's pretending not to be interested, going all prim on me, making out she doesn't want to upset her husband.'

'We've got a visitor.' Tara nudged Daisy, drawing her attention to the police car moving slowly up the drive. Turning back to Rocky she said, 'Opportunity of a lifetime? You? Oh dear, what a shame, now you'll have to be arrested. The big scary policeman's going to charge you with deception and fraud.'

'On the other hand,' Rocky jeered, 'they could be here to arrest you for thinking you're funny when you're not.'

This was typical of the way Rocky and Tara carried on.

'They can't have come to complain about Dad's bagpipes.' Daisy was indignant. 'He hasn't even got them out yet.'

The panda car drew to a halt at the top of the drive. Through the French windows they watched Barry Foster, their local policeman, haul himself out and mutter a few words into his walkie-talkie. As he slammed the driver's door shut and moved towards the entrance to the hotel, Daisy slid off her high stool. 'I just hope he hasn't come to arrest any of our guests.'

'Unless it's that one.' Tara grimaced in the direction of the Dubliner who only thought he could play the mouth organ. 'Oh well, obviously,' said Daisy with a grin. 'He's welcome to take Mr Harmonica.'

* * *

In Daisy's office, Barry Foster pulled out a handkerchief and surreptitiously wiped his perspiring palms. Being the bearer of bad news was the thing he hated most about his job.

The green and gold wallpapered walls of the office appeared to be moving in and out. Daisy blinked slowly in an effort to get them to stay still.

'Look, it must be some kind of mistake.' She paused, licking dry lips. 'Steven isn't even in Bristol. He's up in Glasgow, visiting his grandfather. He's not due back until New Year's Eve.'

Barry gave her a sympathetic look. He knew and liked Daisy. Knew Steven too.

'I'm sorry, love. It was Steven's car. His driver's license was in his wallet ... would you like a glass of water?'

'No thanks.' Daisy shook her head, aware of her heart pounding in her chest. The accident had happened on Siston Common, according to Barry. Less than ten miles away. Steven's BMW had skidded on a patch of ice and smashed into a wall. But Barry was still looking uncomfortable, as if there was something else he hadn't quite plucked up the courage to tell her yet.

Unless ...

'Oh God.' Daisy swallowed hard. 'Is he dead?'

'No, no,' Barry said hurriedly. 'No, love, he's not dead. It's serious, like I said. Condition critical. But he's still alive, I promise you that.'

Critical. With a head injury. Deeply unconscious.

'So why are you ...?' Nodding at his hands, Daisy mimicked the agitated handkerchief-crushing movements. None of this made sense; Steven had phoned her last night from Glasgow and moaned about the weather up there. He had talked about buying tickets to see Glasgow Rangers play at home tomorrow. He was arranging for a plumber to come to his grandfather's house to fix the broken thermostat on the boiler.

And no, he hadn't told his grandfather about the other thing. Poor old fellow, he was eighty-three, didn't he already have enough to cope with?

'Daisy, I'm really sorry. Steven wasn't alone in the car when it crashed.'

'What?' For a split second she thought he meant Steven had had his grandfather with him.

But no, of course he hadn't meant that. The reason for the hand-wringing abruptly became clear, zooming into focus like a Nikon.

'Go on,' Daisy prompted. It was like the end of a crime thriller, suddenly realizing who the murderer was.

'He ... um ... had a girl with him.' Barry clearly wasn't happy; in fact, he was the one who looked as if he could do with a stiff drink.

Daisy frowned. 'You mean a girlfriend-type girl?'

'Ah, well ... looks that way, yes.'

'And is she unconscious too?'

'No. No, love. She was lucky. Escaped with minor injuries.'

Is this really happening? To me?

Daisy discovered she'd been twirling a long strand of hair round her index finger so tightly the end of her finger had gone blue. Beyond the closed office door she heard a burst of laughter drifting through from the bar and the sound of an accordion being revved up.

She really should tell Hector what was going on, but it was all so complicated. How could she explain something like this when she was still so confused herself?

'They're having a party.' Daisy gestured—fairly unnecessarily—in the direction of the bar. 'I don't want to spoil it for everyone else. My car's parked behind the hotel.'

'You don't want to drive, love.' Barry's chins wobbled as he shook his head. 'I can take you to the hospital.'

'No need. I'm OK.' Daisy wondered if she should be crying. The walls of the office had stopped going in and out, which was something to be grateful for. Somewhat shakily, she stood up. 'I'll be fine.'


Fifteen minutes down the motorway was all it took to reach Frenchay Hospital on the outskirts of Bristol. For the first time in years Daisy drove without music blasting from the stereo to sing along to. Nor, when she parked the car in the tree-lined avenue next to the wards, did she reach automatically into her bag to redo her lipstick in the rearview mirror.

It was three forty-five. The sky was darkening from ash-grey to charcoal and lights were flickering on in the various buildings that made up the hospital. Daisy followed a sign pointing the way to the intensive care unit. Staff and visitors were walking around as if nothing had happened. A small girl let out a shriek of outrage as she dropped her bag of candy on the path outside the hospital shop.

How could Steven have been seeing someone else?

The doctor was incredibly kind. He explained the functions of the various types of machinery that surrounded Steven's bed. This was the ventilator, which was taking care of his breathing. This smaller one was the EKG machine, monitoring his heartbeat. That clip on his finger was a pulse oximeter, the intravenous line enabled them to administer the various medications he needed, and the drip was supplying him with fluids.

The intensive care unit was ultra-bright. Everything was white apart from the staff uniforms, which were pale blue. Feeling ludicrously out of place in her red velvet shirt, black leather skirt, and black patent high heels, Daisy tried hard to concentrate on what the doctor was telling her. She felt it was vital to understand everything he said, as if this were an A level she absolutely mustn't fail.

Except it appeared to be an A level in a language she'd never learned. She was able to hear the words but they were making no sense. Apart from the bit about Steven's condition being critical.

The doctor's beeper went off.

'Here, why don't you sit down.' Pulling a molded plastic chair up to the bed, the doctor steered her towards it. 'Hold his hand. Talk to him. You can stay as long as you like. I'll be back later, OK?'

He shot off to deal with the next crisis, leaving Daisy alone with Steven. Well, not really alone. Fifteen feet away, a couple of nurses were keeping a discreet eye on her.

She sat down on the unforgiving plastic chair and held Steven's hand, as instructed.

He was looking ridiculously healthy. A narrow white sheet covered his groin, otherwise he was naked. Tanned and muscular and obviously a fit chap, proud of his physique and deservedly so. All those hours in the gym had paid off. This was the body of a man in peak condition. He didn't look injured at all.

Daisy blinked, pulled herself together. What was it she was meant to be doing now? Oh yes, talking to him.

But what was she supposed to say? Not 'You lying cheating fucking bastard,' that was for sure. Oh no, that definitely wasn't the kind of thing the doctor would have had in mind.

After twenty minutes Daisy rose to leave.


Excerpted from staying at daisy's by Jill Mansell. Copyright © 2011 Jill Mansell. Excerpted by permission of Sourcebooks, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Staying at Daisy's 4.1 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 240 reviews.
sandiek More than 1 year ago
Daisy, after a failed marriage, finds herself back at home. Home, in this case, is her father's hotel, and Daisy is managing it. Managing a hotel is easy; managing relationships are not. She thought her marriage to Steven was a dream come true, but his infidelity put an end to their love. Before they divorced, Steven was killed in a car accident. Now Daisy isn't sure she can trust any man, although there are several around. Dev is a famous national sports star, and he seems interested, or is he? Josh is a former boyfriend who has popped back up and into her life. As tough as love is for Daisy, she is not alone. There is Barney, who comes to the hotel to thank Daisy for donating her husband's kidney to him and finds exactly what he has been looking for his whole life. The problem is that what he has found is the woman who was involved with Steven. Then there is Tara, Daisy's best friend, who can't seem to catch a break with men, and always gets taken for granted. Even Daisy's father has a mystery love affair that may or may not work out. Reading a Jill Mansell book is like settling on the back porch with a glass of ice tea, while the flowers bloom and the wind whispers. Her characters are recognizable, and written with charm and wit. Humor and a refusal to let life defeat them is a mainstay, and this is a wonderful change from the tragic books that abound in the marketplace. Readers will laugh out loud, and cheer for the characters who manage to resolve their life issues. This book is recommended for readers ready for a light-hearted book that carries a powerful message.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This book was a joy. I love Ms Mansell's work anyway. The stories are always so loving and joyous. This one was especially fun to read. The supporting characters were a scream. Watching Daisy's father was a scream. Daisy is a strong woman who didn't have much faith in men and love, she rose above it and watching her character develop was fun. Great book!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Great quirky love story with lots of laughs. Great fun read. Looking forward to reading other books by her!
AAR More than 1 year ago
STAYING AT DAISY'S by Jill Mansell is an interesting chicklit/contemporary romance set in present day.This is an reprint from 2002. This is a sweet romantic comedy which has hilarious characters and is fast paced.Although,some parts are a little slow.The charactrs are charming, interesting and will easily capture your heart. This story has several characters staying at a hotel.The story is written from each character's perspective.While the story has a lot going on,it also has a heartwarming plot,wonderful characters and witty banter.A great read for all chit lit readers,romantic comedy readers and cotemporary romance readers.This book was received for the purpose of review from the publisher and details can be found at Sourcebooks Landmark,an imprint of Sourcebooks and My Book Addiction and More
gl More than 1 year ago
In her latest novel, Staying at Daisy's, Jill Mansell delivers another hilarious and fast-paced romantic comedy. Her combination of endearing and sympathetic lead characters placed in humorous situations wins out again. This time round, Mansell takes on marital infidelity from the point of view of Daisy MacLean, an unsuspecting wife who invariably receives an unwelcome shock. And from the point of view of Tara who is faced with an ex-boyfriend who professes undying love hours before his wedding. Mansell throws into the mix an old boyfriend from university, a gorgeous sports hero, a popular children's author, and other fun and memorable characters. Fans of British chicklit are sure to find Staying at Daisy's a delightful and engrossing read! ISBN-10: 1402243847 - Paperback Publisher: Sourcebooks Landmark; Reprint edition (March 1, 2011), 512 pages. Review copy provided by the publisher.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Not mt fav Did enjoy the British slang
Kimmie_H More than 1 year ago
The book was okay. It dragged alot....or maybe I was ready for it to be over. It was a cute read though.
beckymmoe More than 1 year ago
This is my first book by Jill Mansell, and I have to say that her cast of fun and quirky characters remind me a lot of my favorite books by Maeve Binchy and Marian Keyes, and not just because they're all from the same side of the Atlantic. Daisy and Dev, Tara and Josh, Hector and Maggie, and Barney and Mel all felt like close and personal friends by the time I finished this novel. Their ups and downs had me completely enthralled. As they did embarrassing things, I cringed. (And then I usually laughed-loudly, to be honest. It's always funnier when it's not happening to you, of course.) I groaned in frustration at Daisy's complete and utter delusion.and my hands were itching to shake her by the shoulders the whole time. I will definitely be looking forward to reading more by this author.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
British, funny, great characters, well written..... you will enjoy every Jill Mansell book. Along the lines of Janet Evanovich but more subtle. Great characters, charming story.
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ruth52 More than 1 year ago
This was the first time I read this author and loved this book, could not put it down. Writing was very refreshing and fun. I have already purchased another one of her books.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Fun and charming voice, quirky characters. I would have liked more interaction between Daisy and the hero. Especially after their inauspicious meeting, I'm not sure how the attraction developed from there, but it's a fun read.
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