Spotlight & Giveaway: One Night, Twin Consequences by Annie O’Neil

Posted May 25th, 2016 by in Blog, Spotlight / 43 comments

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Annie O’Neil to HJ!
Spotlight&Giveaway

Hi Annie and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, One Night, Twin Consequences!

 
It’s great to be here. Hellllooooo everyone!
 

Please summarize the book a la Twitter style for the readers here:

One Night, Twin ConsequencesOne night of passion was all Harriet thought she’d ever share with Argentinian doctor, Matteo Torres….until she found out their lives would indelibly connected.One Night, Twin Consequences.
 

Please share your favorite line or quote from this book:

It’s a bit longer than a single line, but…here goes:
Harriet felt her breasts pressing against the well-worn cotton of the snap fronted dress and for the tiniest of moments she wondered what it would feel like if The Latin Lothario were to trace a finger along the diamond shaped neckline then begin, one by one, to pop open each of the snaps. Would his fingers be rough or smooth? How would it feel if he were to draw one of his hands across her belly and begin to explore elsewhere? Would she touch him back? Or, for the very first time, luxuriate in letting herself be caressed? Would his unruly black hair feel as silky as it looked? Would he moan if she scratched his back in an untamed moment of desire? Or call out quiera! Or whatever hot Latin doctors called out in a moment of passion.
The roar of blood in her ears shot up a few decibels.

 

Please share a few FUN facts about this book…

  • When I started writing this book – I knew it was going to be about a twin who would, hopefully, be having twins and what better hero to throw into the equation than a sexy Argentinian doctor who ran orphanages?
  • My working title was Double Trouble with her Argentine Doc. I do love the title that was ultimately chosen, but still have a soft spot for my working title.
  • I listened to a lot of musica folklorika-style music (think guitars and men calling out lovelorn tales of woe and passion into the star-studded Argentinian night) and BOY HOWDY did I ever crave beef. Luckily, I am a farmer, so we have lots of beef to hand and we ate loads of the stuff and chimmichurri sauce. Num num.
  • Suffice it to say, by the end of the book, I am crazy, mad hoping I get to Argentina one day. OH! And this is a fun story. I was flying home and there was a shoeshine guy at the airport. I usually never have leather boots on whenever I see them (I am a rotten shoe shiner), usually I’m in flip flops – but there was this guy, I had boots on my feet so I went up to him and asked if I could get a boot polish. He said sure, and then proceeded to tell me about how his greatest passion was Tango and how he tangoed every night he was able to and that he was saving all of his money from shining shoes at the airport to go to Argentina – in two years time – to dance. For three months. I just loved that. Following his passions. Good stuff.

 

Please tell us a little about the characters in your book. As you wrote your protagonist was there anything about them that surprised you?

Harriet Monticello can be summed up by this little snippet here (PS – I LOVE HER and had a bit of sorrow in letting her go)

Her entire life, Harriet had been “the sensible twin”, the ‘shy twin’, the ‘wallflower twin’ and for about as long as she could remember, she’d always happily agreed. Her twin sister, Claudia (pronounced like a beautiful, fluffy cloud versus a grey, dull clod), was about as vivacious, gorgeous, gutsy and go-gettem’ as a girl could get…and Harriet? Polar opposites was a pretty good starting place. Until now?

And the hero – Matteo Torres? Suffice it to say, he is a hottie with a huge heart – a bit tortured…Here’s the opening description of him: He was tall, dark-haired and had an easy-going grace about him. Not movie-starrish. More…cowboy…or fighter pilot. Hair long enough to see it had a sexy-wavy thing going on. Was that a bit of a five o’clock shadow? And, mmmm… He didn’t just wear clothes. He showed them off. Or they showed him off? Either way, the effect…ooooo the effect! Trousers just skimming along his hipline. Loooong legs. Shoulders filling out his open-at-the-neck shirt. Not too much. But enough to know that if he lifted a child in his arms there would be some bicep action. (Ooooh! I’m going all misty and doey-eyed)
 

What kind of research did you do for this book?

I did a lot of research on homeless girls and teenaged pregnancy in Argentina. It was actually fascinating. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know. I was also really interested in how volunteers factor into helping at orphanages. These children have very few constants in their lives and I was wondering how the orphanages deal with these changes of people dipping in and out of their lives so frequently. It actually forms the basis for Harriet’s research as it is proven a child benefits when they have constants in their lives – i.e. – people who they can rely on to be there.
 

The First kiss…

‘So, lesson number one? In Argentina, there is a lot of kissing. Anything and everything – especially an agreement – comes with a kiss.’
Ohhhhhh.
‘You’ll have to get used to it if – when – you come.’
He didn’t seem like he was flirting, but….was he flirting? Or just preparing her for the unexpected?
She nodded dumbly.
Wait. Were his lips getting closer? Did her eyelashes just flutter? She didn’t flutter – oohhhh he was coming closer. Was he aiming for her cheek? Which way was she meant to turn? Right? Left? Was this like the cheek rub thing earlier with the kissing noise but no contact? Blimey, she wished she’d travelled more.
His hands touched each of her shoulders. Her brain did a little short-circuit before reconnecting with her ability to see straight. Undecided, Harriet changed direction at the precise moment Matteo’s very obviously intended cheek kiss landed squarely on her lightly parted lips.
Everything inside her responded to his touch.
Could an entire bloodstream surge upwards and perform a ready-for-Vegas light display in a microsecond? Had he stayed there…his lips tasting hers….just a little longer than one would for an accidental snog? Or had she made that up? Fact and fiction were blurring at a rate of knots.
She pulled back and instantly wanted more. Matteo was giving his chin a scrub and looking at her curiously. Had she just grown antlers? What in heaven’s name was going on? Harriet Monticello did not accidentally lip kiss strange doctors! Did not kiss strange anyones! If this was how things worked in Argentina, she was definitely going to stay right here where handshakes were precisely what they said on the label.

 

Was there a scene in this book that was harder to write than others?

Yes. Absolutely. There are some very large, incredibly poverished parts of Buenos Aires and their mere existence is a source of never-ending sorrow for Matteo. But this is a romance, right? So, it can’t all be doom and gloom. And we don’t want our heroine to be sucked into a pit of depression at the hopelessness of it all. So….this is what we get:

Harriet and Matteo reached the back of the compound – not a word passing between them – and he stood a moment, in front of the door, wondering if he was being entirely fair. The turmoil he was feeling was of his own making, but any decisions Harriet made would also stem from what he did now. If she wanted to see what made him so intense? Too earnest, perhaps? She needed to see this.
He pushed opened the big wooden doors and watched as Harriet’s eyes all but turned into saucers. One, of the many villa miseria, of Buenos Aires had crept and crawled, expanding with a speed that almost frightened him, up to the very doorstep of the historic monastery. These were just some of Argentina’s impoverished, scraping a living from the nation’s jewel in the crown in any way they could. They lived in huts, lean-to’s, under the open sky – anywhere they were able, doing anything they could to survive. There was never a chance he’d be able to help a fraction of them, let alone fully open the doors to one and all. Which was why he stayed so focused on teenaged mothers. And why he had to maintain that focus. Letting Harriet into his heart wouldn’t help.
He watched her take it in. The children wearing scraps of t-shirts, torn skirts, too short trousers. The mother’s kneading the day’s empanada dough in front of a fire made of bits of wood scavenged from who knew where. The sprawl – the expanse of it – was breathtaking. Even to him and he saw it every day.
‘We solved one problem today.’ He said. ‘But out here lie countless more.’
‘Well, then.’ Harriet fixed him with her clear blue eyes, her gaze unwavering. ‘I guess we’d better get to work.’

 

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would be absolutely crucial to include and why?

Ooo – the opening scene – definitely. I pictured Matteo entering the ward where Harriet works in one of those slow-motion, everything else fades away kind of styles that happens when someone utterly enchanting walks into your life. You’ve already seen a wee sneak peak…now here’s a bigger bite of the Matteo and Harriet pie:

‘It’s a fascinating topic and many orphanages could benefit. One I know a lot of health professionals will be keen to hear. Incluuuuudiiiing….’ Harriet watched her mentor’s eyes scan the ward as if he’d misplaced something. Or, rather, someone.
Their eyes simultaneously lit on the man who’d just set the swinging double doors at the end of the ward in motion as if cued to make a dramatic entrance.
He was tall, dark-haired and had an easy-going grace about him. Not movie-starrish. More…cowboy…or fighter pilot. Hair long enough to see it had a sexy-wavy thing going on. Was that a bit of a five o’clock shadow? And, mmmm… He didn’t just wear clothes. He showed them off. Or they showed him off? Either way, the effect…ooooo the effect! Trousers just skimming along his hipline. Loooong legs. Shoulders filling out his open-at-the-neck shirt. Not too much. But enough to know that if he lifted a child in his arms there would be some bicep action. Not that she had imagined him doing that or anything.
Maybe once or twice?
The first time she had seen him, safely tucked behind the curtained confines of a patient’s cubicle, her eyes had nearly popped out of her head. Pretty much each time she saw him after that? No change.
Raw, unadultered, lust.
There was no other description for it. She had the hots for this man something bad and hiding each time she saw him coming had been her only salvation. Not that she was five or anything. Behaving like a grown-up was highly over-rated. Particularly if survival was a factor.
Her entire life, Harriet had been “the sensible twin”, the ‘shy twin’, the ‘wallflower twin’ and for about as long as she could remember, she’d always happily agreed. Her twin sister, Claudia (pronounced like a beautiful, fluffy cloud versus a grey, dull clod), was about as vivacious, gorgeous, gutsy and go-gettem’ as a girl could get…and Harriet? Polar opposites was a pretty good starting place. Until now?
As the doors phwapped shut, a surge of energy shot through her so powerfully, there was no doubt she would always remember this instant in time. Another daydream to tuck away for when he was safely back in his homeland.
The dozen or so patients between her and Dr. Torres faded into soft focus, their chatter and laughter muted by the thump of her heartbeat ascending to her ears. Everything slowed down, sensations quadrupled and her very breath caught in her throat as her gaze linked with his incredibly green eyes.
Was that heat she felt flickering away below her waist?
Heat?
How inopportune. And…what were those?
Tingles?
Harriet Monticello didn’t get tingles for goodness sake! And now she was a receiver of tingles with heat? What was going on?
The closer he came towards them, the more she felt everything inside her shift and twist and lift…. Good grief!
It wasn’t like she was a complete novice in the world of romance. There’d been a handful of boyfriends over the years. Sort of. All of whom she’d parted with amicably. No point in letting them know they hadn’t really baked her cake. But responding to a virtual stranger on such a primal level? Brand spanking new.
Was this what blossoming was? At a few months shy of 30, she was a bit late for that, wasn’t she? Love at first sight? Or just pure, undiluted, desire?
Each microscopic change in her body was wholly in response to him. And utterly involuntary.
He was taller than her, which wasn’t difficult (being the ‘petite’ one to her sister’s ‘statuesque beauty’). As he neared, Harriet’s chin tipped upwards, opening up the length of her throat in a way that almost felt suggestive. Her shoulder blades were shimmying down her back as her shoulders gave a little wiggle to better present themselves. As if such a thing were possible in a staff dress. It might have a cheongsam cut, but it was, at the end of the day, a uniform. She felt her breasts pressing against the well-worn cotton of the snap fronted dress and for the tiniest of moments she wondered what it would feel like if The Latin Lothario were to trace a finger along the diamond shaped neckline then begin, one by one, to pop open each of the snaps. Would his fingers be rough or smooth? How would it feel if he were to draw one of his hands across her belly and begin to explore elsewhere? Would she touch him back? Or, for the very first time, luxuriate in letting herself be caressed? Would his unruly black hair feel as silky as it looked? Would he moan if she scratched his back in an untamed moment of desire? Or call out quiera! Or whatever hot Latin doctors called out in a moment of passion.
The roar of blood in her ears shot up a few decibels.
When he arrived in front of them with a smile, a heated flush flashed across her cheeks. Could he read minds as well? Anyone with eyes so jungley green surely had access to the deeper reaches of a woman’s soul.
Errrrr…. Get a Grip O’clock!
Harriet silently tsk’d herself. Too many romance novels during the overnight shift. Nevertheless, she did a quick check to see if he really did have thick, dark eyelashes. It would complete the very nice package.
Yup! Of course he did.
She was sunk.
‘Matteo! You found us. I’m so pleased.’ Dr Bailey reached out to shake his hand.
She watched as Matteo (Matteo!) extended his long, lovely fingers with sun-bleached hairs, not too thick, running along the length of his forearm and shook hands with her boss. They turned to her, an expectant look in Matteo’s eyes, which was when Harriet realised the entire time he’d been walking towards them, she’d been slow-motion wiping her disintegrated biscuit into the fabric of her dress right – over – her breast. Classy.

 

What do you want people to take away from reading this book?

That love, commitment and a bit of tango can go a long way towards making life great. Letting go of insecurities is scary business, and in this case? Well worth the jitters.
 

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned for 2016?

I am currently working on a really exciting continuity project for the Harlequin Medical Series due out next year. Mine is called Healing the Sheikh’s Heart. It is the first ‘Sheikh Story” I have written and I am loving ever sand duney, sparkly ocean moment of it!

After One Night, Twin Consequences there is a bit of a break until November when one of my all time fav’s is coming out: The Nightshift Before Christmas.

 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

 

Giveaway: I have two copies of my books available – which is twinned with the second book in this duet: The Monticello Baby Miracles

 

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: If you had one month to donate to a charity – which one would it be? Why?

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Excerpt from One Night, Twin Consequences:

Harriet was feeling an awful lot like Maria von Trapp. Here she was, standing outside the impressive entryway of Casita Verde’s flagship centre, a suitcase in hand, an endless stream of questions yet to be answered, and absolutely no ability to play the guitar or make dresses out of drapery. At this juncture? She was willing to try…. Or to run after the taxi driver and beg him to bring her back to the airport.
She tilted her head back and looked up. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected, but an enormous stone edifice imbedded with beautiful tile mosaics of trees, flowers and other happy-making shapes hadn’t exactly been what had popped to mind. Still. The front door was green. She could’ve predicted that.
If she’d had any confidence in her singing she might’ve burst into some sort of plucky song in a vain attempt to give herself courage or confidence or whatever it was she needed in order to reach out and press the brass doorbell buzzer.
Why, why whyyyyyyyy had she agreed to this?
She was supposed to be at home finishing up baby-proofing the house for her sister. Only six tiny little weeks to go and she was here in Tangoland?
True, she’d be home in four so she would still have time for the finishing touches, but…. This was something she’d never, ever, in a million squillion years imagined herself doing.
Then again, quite a few things were falling into that category lately. Having naughty sex in her office was pretty close to topping the charts at this juncture. Her body gave her a shivery reminder of just how nice it had been. Not that she’d heard so much as a whisper from Matteo since he’d disappeared That Night. What a confidence builder!
Not that that was his responsibility. Or that it was strictly true. They’d made no promises to one another and certainly she’d never expected to see him again. When she’d received his invitation to work at Casita Verde via Dr. Bailey it was as if all of the oxygen had been sucked out of her body and replaced with helium. She hadn’t even been able to answer. She had just nodded. A lot.
And then…. nothing.
A politely worded informational pdf sent via “Administrator”, no personal add-ons other than a reminder that it was winter in Buenos Aires so she’d be best to pack a warm coat and summer clothes as the weather was variable. She harrumphed.
At least “Administrator” cared if she got frostbite.
And she’d said as much to the Spanish speaking taxi driver on her way into Buenos Aires.
‘I doubt he even knows I’m arriving today.’ Harriet had begun, her voice not particularly audible above the blare of tango filling the cab. At least it made talking to herself less embarrassing.
‘Dr. Bailey probably made the entire thing up to see if I was brave enough to leave St Nick’s for the first time in, well, forever. It was almost like he didn’t want me there! He practically booted me out the door!’ She gave her best astonished face and continued, the taxi driver taking no notice of her whatsoever.
‘I mean, honestly! I really needed at least – AT LEAST – a fortnight to hand over everything to the staff nurses and what did he give me?’ She looked into the rearview mirror, half expecting a raised eyebrow of response. Nothing. He was engrossed in his radio sing-a-long. Typical. Sign number two she shouldn’t have boarded the plane. Not beyond passport control more than half an hour and already she was invisible.
She carried on.
‘A morning! Can you believe it? What does he think I am? A pair of castanets on overdrive?’ She gave the rearview mirror another indignant look. She was on a roll now.
The driver unleashed a furl of what she expected were ruby-coloured unpleasantries at a lorry that all but took the front of the taxi off. Sign number three?
‘You know what Dr. Bailey said when I protested?’ Harriet didn’t bother pausing. This was obviously a soliloquoy and she was going to make the most of it.
‘Go on! Get out of here and go buy yourself something Argentinian to wear! Whatever that might be. It’s not like the streets of London are flooded with …with whatever Argentinians wear.’
Her voice had petered out with her confidence, her nose pressed against the window as she took in all of the sights and sounds she hadn’t even begun to imagine. Including floods of sleek looking ebony-haired Argentinian women looking all sexy and chic while she just felt rumpled and jet-lagged.
A sting of tears threatened as the newness of it all hit her.
When Dr. Bailey had all but shooed her out of the office she hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry. He’s practically chased her out of the ward as if she’d been a bad smell. So what if she was a homebody? Or, more accurately, a St Nick’s-body. She loved it there. It was her life!
‘See what else life has in store for you!’
Those were Dr. Bailey’s words that had felt the stabbiest. Akin to betrayal.
When her parents had died, her sister had taken it as a cue to voraciously grab life by the collar and shake as much fun, passion, and drama out of it as she could. In fact, when she’d rung her sister to tell her about this, she’d all but offered to trade places. “A month with a sexy Latin doctor? You’d be mad not to go!’
Mad to go, was more like it.
Her night with Matteo had been so out of character she’d nearly convinced herself it was a dream. A ruddy nice dream, but a dream. Those kinds of things didn’t happen to her. Not to plain old, reliable Harriet Monticello who’d all but slipped into the side door of St Nick’s and done her jolly best to make herself a piece of the woodwork. Indispensible. And up until now, that’s what she’d thought she’d done.
Tears swooped up into her eyes as she stared at the brass doorbell some more.
Noooooo!
This was not how she wanted Matteo to see her. It would be, she imagined, exactly the scenario had anticipated. Weak, change-resistant, too fragile to take it on the chin research nurse.
She turned away from the epically huge wooden door and shook her head, willing the emotions squeezing at her chest, her throat, her eyes to leave her be. Give her a moment’s respite to be brave. She stamped her feet and gave her shoulders a shake.
Of course Dr. Bailey wasn’t doing this to make her feel worthless. He was kind. Compassionate. He was practically a surrogate father to her.
He was, she expected, seeing if she had it in her to stretch her wings and have a go on her own outside the cosy, safe walls of St Nick’s. Particularly after her disastrous speech night. Maybe that had been the point. Make her hit rock bottom so everything else seemed….sub-equatorial?
Her shoulders wilted a bit.
No. C’mon Harriet. Channel your sister if you have to, but you did not just spend twenty hours having a four-year-old kick the back of your seat only to go running back home with your tail between your legs. It is time for you to stand on your own two feet!
‘¡Cuidado!
Harriet’s head whipped to the left just in time to see a thick swarm of children careening towards her at high speed. Her Spanish might not be up to much but she was pretty sure she was being told to get out of the way – and fast.
She took a step back and immediately regretted it. Her foot hit a slick of wet leaves with no intention of staying stationary. Her arms wind-milled to gain balance as her knees buckled against the bulk of her suitcase. As she somersaulted over the back of it she felt a microsecond’s regret she hadn’t brought the one with wheels.
Woooooooooooaaaaaaahhhh!!!
Her battle with gravity was being lost in a slow motion collapse towards the pavement. Her hands hit the ground with a skiddy jolt. She was already feeling the abrasion’s initial burn as one of her knees took a hit of gravel. Looks like making a good impression with a skirt had been a bad idea, then.
There would be a need for tweezers in her immediate future.
What she hadn’t expected, was such an apocalyptically clutzy landing that she’d received a faceful of dirt, more gravel and – oh… Actually those were some very nice tiles. What a beautiful blue!
Her eyes remained focused on the ground, but she could hear the children circle round her speaking in rapid fire Spanish. Her brain was too addled by the fall to make much sense of what they were saying. After a moment’s assessment that no, she hadn’t broken anything in her spectacularly awkward fall, she took a slow breath to regroup before turning herself round to face her spectators.
Standing above her, backlit by a clear blue sky, was Matteo Torres.
‘Harriet! I see you’ve met the children.’

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 

Book Info:

When Matteo Torres invites Harriet Monticello to work with orphans in Buenos Aires how can she refuse? Even if she is wary of this irresistible and off-limits doc! Their chemistry combusts before they even leave, and the shy nurse finds herself agreeing to one reckless night with Matteo…

Now, pregnant with twins, Harriet has nine months to melt this brooding doctor’s heart!

Book Links:  

Meet the Author:

Annie O'NeilAnnie spent most of her childhood with a leg draped over the family rocking chair and a book in her hand. Novels, baking and writing too much teenage angst poetry ate up most of her youth. Now, quite a few years on from those fevered daydreams of being a poet, Annie splits her time between more corralling her husband (and real life Scottish hero) into helping her with their cows or scratching the backs of their rare breed pigs and spending some very happy hours at her computer writing.
Website | Facebook | Twitter |
 
 
 

43 Responses to “Spotlight & Giveaway: One Night, Twin Consequences by Annie O’Neil”

  1. Diana Tidlund

    toss up… MDA (muscular dystrophy aka jerrys kids) for my brother who died from MD and MS association for my sister who has MS (multiple Sclorosis)

  2. Vicki

    Make a Wish. I love that it’s for the ill person to do something they will always remember

  3. Nancy Luebke

    In my younger days, I spent several years working in a right to life group which had a Birthline that reached out to women, many of who slipped through the cracks in society, and helped by providing some baby needs like clothing, diapers and sometimes cribs. We sometimes helped with formula or if they wanted, information on adoptions.

    • Annie O'Neil Books

      Definitely! I did a cancer run recently – for my mother-in-law who was taken by cancer and for my beloved pooch – who is battling with it. Love the animals! Love the humans!

  4. lorrainereads

    American Cancer society. Because I know and love many people who have or who have had cancer. It affects everyone doesn’t matter how its a horrible thing that ruins alot of peoples lives and the cancer society helps so many people.

  5. lraines78

    I would choose Children’s Hospital for all of the great things they do to save preemies! It is amazing.

    • Annie O'Neil Books

      I think that’s a great idea! I am actually doing a charity run in the autumn for Great Ormond’s Street Hospital which is London’s premiere children’s hospital. I’m writing a book right now about a doctor at a children’s hospital and those folk really are extraordinary. Good choice.

  6. kermitsgirl

    A charity dealing with animals or cancer patients. I’m a big softie for all animals, and my mom passed away from cancer when I was 19, so both causes are important to me.

  7. Chey

    A local charity run by volunteers where I know the money isn’t all been eaten up by administration.

  8. kim hansen

    Animal rescue because they are always running on a shoe string budget and I would want to find one that 95 percent of the money is used for the animals.

  9. Joanne B

    It’s a toss up… the MS society for my sister who has MS or Best Friends Animal Society.

  10. veRONIca

    I would donate to the Children’s Wish Foundation. I think it is inspiring to help children and their families create wonderful memories

  11. Connie Lee

    The Red Cross. They are ready to help if your house has burned or if there has been a natural disaster.

  12. Patricia B.

    We have worked and are working with many charities. We are currently Red Cross Disaster and Service to the Armed Forces volunteers. If I were to do something different, I would work with some of the Catholic Church projects working with those in need both here in the US and overseas. I have been on the local board of Catholic Charities, and our parish has a twinning project with a prism in Haiti. We are also sponsoring a little girl in Guatemala through Outward Bound. It would be nice to work with some of their projects on site.

    • Annie O'Neil Books

      WOW! Patricia! You and your family sound amazing. I have no doubt you will find yourself (selves??) on site for some incredible experiences. I have been watching a lot of youtube videos about charitable works in latin America and they always leave me sobbing!

  13. Jen B

    There is a charity local to me called Scottie’s Little Soldiers who help the children of members of the armed forces who have died.

  14. Annie O'Neil Books

    WOW! You’re all amazing! I have to confess – one of the reasons I would love to be rich one day is so that I could give loads of it away! There are so many wonderful charities out there which is proof enough for me that there are more good hearts than bad in the world – so three cheers and an extra one to all of you! xoxo Annie O’

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