Today I'd like to introduce you to the author of What I Love About Dublin, Amanda Laneley.
Amanda is passionate about writing and exploring the world. She has travelled through five continents, collecting anecdotes and stories that she turns into novels.
She loves the movies of Meg Ryan and the novels of Jane Austen. She adores learning and thinks that there aren't enough hours in the day to do it. She loves to dance, laugh and share a beer with good friends.
She was a professor, entrepreneur and holistic therapist before devoting herself to writing. She started writing because, one night a romantic story appeared in her dreams and wouldn't let go of her. That story became her first novel. The curious thing is that as soon as she finished it, another story appeared and then another. Since then she hasn't stopped writing or dreaming.
Amanda loves to hear from her readers and you can follow her on Facebook, Twitter and her website.
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| Photo courtesy of Amanda Laneley |
Synopsis
Let’s suppose you are a heartbroken woman trying to get over the pain of a failed relationship. You’ve always wanted to see the world. What do you do? Perhaps you would do what Sarah does: travel alone to Dublin and leave your worries behind. She wants to start from scratch, to forget about it all; to enjoy the lush green countryside, the Celtic music, the famous pubs. However, her life turns upside down when she finds herself living under the same roof as Daniel, a handsome yet stubborn Irishman.
Both Daniel and Sarah have their reasons for not falling in love, but love has other plans.
Things become more complicated because love affairs are prohibited between housemates. This is an unbreakable rule that also applies to the three other residents: a shameless womanizer, an absent-minded musician and a new female best friend, intrusive and meddling. It’s a fun and exciting intercultural household for Sarah to adapt to! And as if that wasn’t enough, she also has to deal with Daniel’s heated misunderstandings, with an insistent ex-boyfriend and some compromising situations with a very sexy Frenchman.
This is a new life in Dublin and there is certainly a lot to love!
Chapter 1
“Welcome to Dublin.”
The
welcome came over the loudspeakers as soon as the plane landed, and Sara
unfastened her seatbelt with impatient fingers. She breathed out,
filled with a mixture of apprehension, weariness and sadness. Barely
past her mid-twenties, she was going to step onto European soil for the
first time. She was finally going to become acquainted with the ancient
continent she had fantasized so much about in the novels she devoured.
What she wanted most was to repair her broken heart after what had
happened with Antonio, to start over again surrounded by the greenery of
Ireland.
“Greenery?”
she wondered, disillusioned, as soon as she had left the airport and
caught a glimpse of the bleak surroundings. “More like grayness.” The
sunset, weighed down by black clouds, frigid gusts of wind and an
incessant rainfall that spread in all directions, wasn’t exactly the
cordial welcome Sara had hoped for. But, truth be told, nothing about
the past forty-eight hours had been cordial. She never imagined she
would hurriedly leave Chile. She had only long enough to say good-bye to
her parents, whose worried faces reflected their opinion, repeating a
thousand times that her going off to Ireland was a huge mistake.
Sara
replayed in her mind the whole argument with Antonio, and as she rolled
her luggage toward the taxi stand, her eyes filled with tears. She felt
so alone! And the worst part was that now she really was alone. She
didn’t know anyone in Dublin, neither family nor friends. All she had
was the hope of a new beginning and a piece of paper with an address
written on it, which she clung to for dear life.
The
arrival of an empty taxi made her swallow her tears. She held out the
address to the taxi driver and, twenty minutes later, found herself in
the front yard of a narrow red house with a pointed roof while the
darkness surrounded her and rain mercilessly pelted her and her luggage.
As fast as she could, she rolled the suitcase to the front door and
rang the bell.
No answer.
She rubbed her hands together and blew on them to heat them up. She
rang a second time. Nothing. He teeth chattering, she peered through the
stained glass windows of the front door. She couldn’t make out anyone,
but a light was on, so someone must be there. Lord, at least she hoped
there was; if not, she didn’t know where else to go.
She knocked and, after a minute that seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened.
“Hello?” said a beautiful brunette of about her age, half greeting her and half inquiring.
“Hola, I mean, hello. I’m Sara and. . .”
“You
speak my language,” the young woman interrupted, switching to Spanish
with a Central American accent. “Are you looking for one of the boys,
Sara? Because no one is here; they all went out.”
“No, actually, I came about the room for rent. I reserved it a few days ago.”
The young woman shook her head in unequivocal negation.
“That’s
impossible; there must be some error. The ad clearly says we rent only
to men. Better luck next time,” she said, starting to shut the door.
Sara’s
stomach tied up in knots as she imagined herself looking for a place to
stay somewhere else, in an unknown city, in the middle of the rain and
darkness.
“Stephen Brennan gave me the address!” said Sara hurriedly. “He told me to come here.”
The young woman opened the door again and studied her, frowning.
“Stephen? He told you to come? Are you sure?”
“Yes, he gave me the address. I came straight from the airport.”
The young
woman looked at Sara’s luggage, which was collecting water, forming an
enormous pool. When she saw that its owner didn’t seem to be in much
better shape than the luggage, her expression softened.
“Come in
while we clear up this misunderstanding.” She opened the door and
gestured to a spot near the entrance. “If you like, you can leave your
things there. I’m Fran, by the way.”
“Thanks, Fran.” Sara obeyed, taking off her coat. She suddenly sneezed several times.
“You’re drenched. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
She
followed Fran to a spacious wooden kitchen. She didn’t much care for
coffee; still, she was willing to swallow anything that might raise her
body temperature by a couple of degrees.
Her hostess put on water to boil.
“How do you know Stephen, Sara?”
“Actually,
I don’t know him, at least not personally. I’m going to teach at the
same university he does, Spanish classes, and he was my contact for
arranging all the paperwork. He was very kind in recommending somewhere
to live; he did not need to do it.”
“Yes,
he’s kind when he wants to be; at least when he can make the effort to
listen. I’ve told him a thousand times that the room isn’t available to
women. Sometimes what I tell him goes in one ear and right out the
other. Men!”
“Are you his girlfriend?” Sara guessed, from the annoyance and familiarity she heard in Fran’s voice.
“Yes. Let
me call him and see what we can do.” Fran dialled a number and started
speaking in English. “Stephen, it’s me. Sara, the girl you gave this
address to, is here. Yes, but I told you we would rent the room only to a
man. What? But I told you a thousand times!. What? No, it has to be
right now! At least speak to her! What do I care if you’re in a meeting?
No, Stephen. . . don’t you dare hang up on m. . . Hello? Hello?”
Fran suddenly slammed the phone down on the table. Sara didn’t dare breathe; she didn’t know what to say.
“Always
the same thing!” complained Fran, exhaling a weary sigh. “I’m sorry,
Sara, but you can’t stay here. I’d be very happy to rent you the room,
but it isn’t up to me. It’s up to the boys.”
“But maybe I could speak to them, somehow convince them,” said Sara, feeling her throat close up.
“Don’t
waste your time. You wouldn’t be the first one to try it and fail. I’m
sorry, Sara, I wish I could help you, but I’m afraid you’re going to
have to go someplace else.”
Sara
agreed quietly, feeling her eyes fill with tears. “I understand,” she
said in a hoarse voice. “It’s just that I don’t know where to go. I
don’t know anyone in this city. Stephen was the only contact I had.”
“You can go to a hotel,” suggested Fran, observing Sara sympathetically.
“Yes, of
course, that’s what I’ll do. . .” Her voice was about to break. “It’s
just that, well, I didn’t feel like being alone today. . .” She
remembered how alone she was. She thought of Antonio, of her uncertain
future, and she couldn’t hold back a pair of silent tears. “Fran, excuse
me, you barely know me and here I am crying in front of you. It’s just
that the past two days have been the worst of my life, and all I want is
a warm bed, a place to sleep and to forget about everything for a
while.”
Fran gave her a sad look.
“Don’t
tell me, problems of the heart, right?” When she saw Sara agree, Fran
went on. “I’ll bet some man cheated on you and broke your heart.”
It hadn’t happened quite like that, but, yes, her heart was broken, so Sara just replied. “Something like that.”
“Well,
what woman hasn’t been in that situation? You can’t imagine what a state
I was in the first day I arrived in this city, and all because of a
wretched man. . .” Fran seemed lost in thought a few minutes, lost in
her memories; then she looked up with a kind expression. “Look, Sara,
out of female solidarity, I don’t have the heart to tell you to leave
right now. If you want, you can stay in the room for tonight, but you’ll
have to leave tomorrow.”
“Really?” Sara asked, filled with gratitude.
“Yes, but
just for tonight. Daniel isn’t here, so there won’t be any problem with
him, and I doubt the others will be back today.”
Sara felt like hugging her. She accepted the marvellous offer without any hesitation and began to feel a little better.
Now
feeling a bit more like herself, she sat at the table drinking coffee.
Sara learned that four people lived in the house: Armando, from Italy;
Fran herself, from Venezuela; and Colin and Daniel, from Ireland.
“This house is marvellous,” Sara observed, gazing around her.
“It is.
Spacious, well located and in one of the best neighbourhoods in Dublin,
but you can’t imagine how expensive it is. To tell you the truth,
everything in this city is quite expensive, but especially around here.
That’s why we need to rent the open room right away; otherwise, the four
of us will have to make up the difference out of our own pockets.”
“Then why aren’t you willing to accept women?”
Fran sighed.
“It’s all
Armando’s fault. He got himself into a mess with the last renter and it
poisoned the atmosphere. Finally the girl left, though it was his
fault, since he’ll sleep with anything that moves. That’s why, no more
women, to avoid risks. It’s strictly forbidden to get involved with
anyone else in the house.”
Sara smiled sadly.
“I doubt very much there would be any risk with me. Believe me, Fran, the last thing I want now is more romantic problems.”
“Do you feel like talking about it? You can tell me about it, if you want.”
“Thanks, but I’m not ready to discuss it yet. So, how long have you been in Dublin?”
“Almost eight months. I had originally planned to stay for three, but I fell in love,” Fran said enthusiastically.
“With Stephen, right?”
Fran
blinked. “Yes, of course, with him too, but especially with the city. It
has some lovely places and is filled with greenery everywhere.”
Fran told
Sara that when she first arrived in Dublin, things hadn’t exactly been
easy. She couldn’t find any work in her profession as an accountant, so
she waited tables in a restaurant. She missed everything about
Venezuela, especially her mother and girlfriends, but fortunately she
had found a new family in her housemates.
“Sometimes
they drive me crazy with their jokes, it’s true,” said Fran, “but
Armando, Daniel and Colin are fantastic, and I adore living with them.”
If you enjoyed that and want to read more you can buy it here and it's also available in Spanish here.
I'd like to say a big thank you to Amanda for stopping by today to give us a taste of her novel and I wish her lots of success with it. 😉
