A Summer With Snow (Frosted Seasons #1) - Plot & Excerpts
I so wanted to feel Snow’s arms around me, but he’s not there. His side lies empty, the perfectly white quilt pulled back. I crawl across the sheet, reach for the bedside cabinet and grab the small black remote that opens the blinds. Sinking into the pillow, I press the button and watch them sweep along the window, leaving me with the most beautiful panoramic view of the city, so perfect I could almost be looking at a picture postcard. I’m sure I hear a noise, and disturbed from my thoughts I push myself up, my eyes darting towards the en suite. “Snow!” I call out, but there’s no reply. Disappointed, I look back out across London. I can imagine starched-shirted men with leather briefcases clutched at their sides as they jump from black taxi cabs, checking the time on their watches before rushing to their offices for their nine till five day. In my head I can hear so vividly the sounds of the city: the shuffling feet of pedestrians rushing from pavement to pavement, the beeping horns of impatient drivers who shout out obscenities.
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