Title: The Double
By: Alison Brodie
Publication Date: January 19, 2016
Genre: Chick Lit
How could she communicate with these men? And where they hell were they going? It was as if the man in the frilly apron had read her mind. He produced pen and paper and began to draw a crooked diagram. Within seconds she realised what she was seeing: a map of Great Britain! He was trying to tell her where they were heading. He drew some waves, then the bulging outline of Western Europe. Please, God, she mentally pleaded. Donât draw Africa. Thankfully, the pen moved back up, to the north-west tip of Spain and made a cross. âVigo,â her host explained. She nodded. âVigo.â She took a slug of coffee. God, it was delicious. Two inches above Vigo, he drew a boat with a stick figure with long black hair. âeto-Vy,â he said, pointing to her. âOK, thatâs me,â she agreed, pointing to herself. She watched as he drew a straight line from the stick figure to the cross. âAnd Iâm going to Vigo!â The pieces of the puzzle were finally fitting into place and - actually - this was fun. âVigo! Vigo!â The two men chorused, delighting in her cleverness. Frilly Apron drew a stick man in the sea just above the cross. âAleksandr Shtcherbatsky Zhivago,â he announced. The stick man had a tiny body, a big head and a bigger smile, his arms thrown wide as if eager to hug her. âMm,â she murmured dubiously. By the time she met this person, she would be in no mood to be hugged. Who was he? Another actor, poised to give her clues to the next phase of the game? But what if he didnât speak English? âDoes he speak English?â she asked. Since Frilly Apron was busy adding a smiley sun to his diagram, she had to shake his shoulder to get his attention. She pointed to the stick man, then made a quacking-duck motion with her hand. âHe speaka Eengleesh?â Frilly Apron nodded. âDa.â âThank Christ for that!â She studied the sketch, seeing the distance they had travelled and the distance that remained, and calculated that they would be in Vigo in two days. But she didnât have two days! She had a job! She had a week of twelve-hour shifts! She had to be home to cook Andyâs dinner or heâd go mental. She had to walk Mrs Baxterâs dog. And, she had to pick up Mr Beattieâs pension. Christ, she had responsibilities. She had a life! She couldnât just sail off into the sunset! She drained her cup. âOK, guys,â she began, pressing out her palms to acknowledge their understandable mistake. âYou got the wrong girl. Me?â She pointed to her chest. âBeth Skiffington - not Sonita.â They grinned widely. âSonita!â they chirruped. âNo, non, nix!â What the fuck was it in Russian? âNyat! They frowned, puzzled. âNyat?â She nodded vigorously. âNyat!â âNyat?â âNyat! Nyat!â She couldnât believe this was happening. Right now, she should be carrying bed-linen onto the ward, not standing on a speeding boat making the noise of a web-footed wading bird. The two men looked confused. It was evident that they had it firmly set in their heads that she was Sonita - and why not? She was not only dressed like the rock star and looked like the rock star but sheâd also been standing on the gangplank of the rock starâs boat. There was only one way to prove she wasnât the singer. Clearing her throat, she began to sing Emeralda. She wasnât keen on Sonitaâs songs because they were too raucous, but this one she did like. âThis moment must last For the rest of our livesâ¦â She sang on, amazed that she could remember the words, relieved that she sounded like a yowling cat. âAnd say goodbye â¦â her voice trickled to a stop. The men were smiling - through their tears. How could she make them understand? She pointed to the sleeve of her fun-fur coat. If anyone knew about real fur, they would. âLook!â she cried, plucking at the fabric. âPolyester crap. Top Budget. Cheap.â She was getting desperate. âMe - not Sonita. Me - not American. Me - not rock star.â By the expression on their faces, she knew she was talking herself into a cul-de-sac. All they could hear was: Sonita. American. Rock star. Defeated, she picked up the coffee pot and topped up her cup. These men believed they had the rock singer and nothing, it seemed, could dissuade them. That meant she had no option but to go along for the ride. She looked at the map. She had two inches to go. At least she wasnât heading for Australia.
What Others Are Saying
âExcellent â¦ proof of her genius in writing fiction.â
-San Francisco Book Review
-Lauren Sapala, Book Reviewer and Writersâ Coach
â4.5/5* This is the first novel of Alison Brodieâs that I have read and I can say with sheer certainty that it wonât be the last because I absolutely loved it.â
-Holly at Bookaholic Confessions
âItâs a really good read, a page-turner with good characterization and a splendid plot.â
-Dinah Wiener, Dinah Wiener Literary Agency
â5* A book you just canât put downâ
âStar Angelâs Reviews
âFantastic. So unique! Alison is a great writer.â
âAimee, HCL Book Reviews
â5* Left me wanting to read more.â
âDavid Carraturo, author
Amazon US - http://amzn.to/1RsAsnm
Amazon UK - http://goo.gl/58v0r5
Amazon CA - https://goo.gl/duU52G
Alison Brodie is a Scot, with French Huguenot ancestors on her motherâs side of the family. Alison was a photographic model, modelling for a wide range of products, including Ducatti motorbikes and 7Up. She was also the vampire in the Schweppes commercial.
A disastrous modelling assignment in the Scottish Highlands gave Alison an idea for a story, which was to become Face to Face. She wrote Face to Face as a hobby and then decided to send it off to see what would happen. It was snapped up by Dinah Wiener, the first agent Alison sent it to. Three weeks later, Alison signed a two-book deal with Hodder & Stoughton. Subsequently, Face to Face was published in Germany and Holland. It was widely reviewed, ie: âVain, but wildly funny leading lady.â -Scottish Daily Mail. It was also chosen as Good Housekeepingâs âPick of the Paperbacks.â
Unfortunately, Alison then suffered from Second-Book Syndrome. The publisherâs deadline loomed and she was terrified because she didnât have an idea for a story! She found the whole experience a nightmare; and this is why she cautions first-time authors to write more than one book before approaching an agent. She managed to finish the book â Sweet Talk â but it bombed.
While writing Sweet Talk, she moved to Kansas and lived there for two years. She loved the people, their friendliness, their free-and-easy way of life, the history and the BBQs! Sadly, her visa ran out and she had to come back to the UK â although her dream is to one day live permanently in America. Now, Alison lives in Biarritz, France.
Alison has taken the exhilarating steps to becoming an indie author. Her second ebook, THE DOUBLE, is out on Amazon Kindle with some great reviews. âExcellent.â âSan Francisco Book Review.
Alison writes contemporary romance. She aims for a strong plot line, set against the background of a world-changing event, coupled with touches of humour, sexual tension and character transformation.
She loves to hear from her readers. Would You Rather Question: Would you rather be trapped in a lift for 10 hours: With a notepad and pen? Or a book to read? Answer: With a notepad and pen. Then I wouldnât be bothered how long I was stuck for.
Question: Would you rather write a message and throw it out to sea in a bottle? Or carve the message in a tree on a desert island? Answer: Throw it out to sea. You never know who is going to find it. A handsome man on a faraway beach perhaps? Question: Would you rather: Read a book while walking? Or write a book on a water bed? Answer: I feel sick just thinking about both of them! I donât know, write a book on a water bed. Question: Would you rather write a puzzle book? Or a cook book? Answer: Definitely a cook book. I love cooking. Question: Would you rather accidentally drop your new printed manuscript in a lake? Or have a gust of strong wind blow it everywhere? Answer: Blow everywhere â¦ while Iâm screaming to passers-by: âPick it up!!â Question: Would you rather: Publish one insanely great-selling book and never write again? Or publish a string of average-selling books over a 20-year period? Answer: Publish average-selling books. Iâm in this, not for the fame, but for getting stories to my readers. Anyway, I have to write. Question: Would you rather write on a roof-terrace in Istanbul? Or write on the beach in St Tropez? Answer: Definitely not on a beach in St Tropez! I wouldnât be able to concentrate with all those Frenchman running around in slips (tight swimming trunks). Question: Would you rather be upside down and read a book backwards? Or write a book blindfolded? Answer: What??!!! Question: Would you rather live your life? Or the life of your character in The Double? Answer: I want to be Beth (without the miserable childhood) and be taken away on a billion-dollar yacht and meet Aleksandr. Sigh â¦.
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