The House of Many Lives Read Online LK Wilde

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)


Love can take you by surprise when you make a house a home…
Kate is stuck in a rut. She works a dead end job, lives in a grotty bedsit and still pines for the man who broke her heart.
When Kate inherits a house in a small Cornish town, she jumps at the chance of a fresh start. A surprise letter from her grandmother persuades Kate to open her home and her heart to strangers.
But with friends harbouring secrets, demanding house guests, and her past catching up with her- can Kate really move on? And will her broken heart finally find a home?

Full Book:

For Pete.


THE LETTER FELT like it was burning a hole in Kate’s pocket. As she ran along the platform, she could sense it there, leading her on its merry dance. What in the world would possess her grandmother to do it? There must have been a mistake. Either the letter was fake, or had been sent to the wrong address. It was too good to be true; good things didn’t happen to people like Kate.

Kate hauled her bike onto the train and squished into a corner by the window. With no room on the luggage rack for her neatly folded bike, she leaned uncomfortably against it, pedals jabbing her legs as the train creaked out of the station. As the school holidays were finally over, Kate thought the train would be less busy. Not a chance.

Kate tried to look beyond the sweaty man in front of her to see who was travelling to the south west. She spotted a few grey heads. One couple had taken out their flask of tea and sandwiches before they’d even left Bristol Templemeads. She caught sight of a young couple, heads together, tongues locking them as one. Their slobbering made her feel sick. Newlyweds and nearly deads, that’s who was travelling that day.

There should be a separate category, Kate decided, - independent woman traveller. It didn’t have the same ring to it as the others, and if Kate were honest, she’d rather be in the newlywed category. Kate pulled down the window and let the smoggy city air cool her face. It was a good job she was small, or she might not have got on the train at all. It would be a long day if the train didn’t clear before Bodmin.

Kate’s feet ached like they were being held to a fire. She’d done a hellish fourteen-hour shift at The Sunbeam the day before. Kate was only supposed to be there till five, but one waitress had called in sick and she couldn’t turn down the money. If it weren’t for her good friend and workmate Flo, and the thought of a week’s leave coming up, Kate may have walked out on the job half way through her shift. What else could you do though? Damn the voice of reason. That same voice had kept her working a dead-end job in a run-down hotel for the past ten years.

The Sunbeam was an awful name for a hotel, but then again, it was an awful hotel, so perhaps it was appropriate. Despite the name and two-star ratings on Trip Advisor, tourists flocked there. It probably had something to do with the price; fifty-five pounds for a double room including breakfast was unheard of in Bath. You couldn’t get a cupboard on Airbnb for that.

Even worse than the name was the uniform. The manager, Silvia, insisted on all her girls wearing a uniform. Unlike the posh hotels where uniforms were flattering, the Sunbeam’s chambermaids wore ill-fitting grey dresses, a large sun embroidered across their left breast. It looked like they’d been breast feeding and a baby had spewed its milk back up.

Hope your shift’s going OK, she texted Flo. Kate felt a pang of guilt for leaving her friend behind at the depressing hotel. If anything, Flo deserved a run of good luck more than she did. Kate had never met anyone who worked as hard as Flo, who battled against the odds to keep her head above water and still kept a smile on her face and a good-natured stream of expletives ready to make Kate laugh. If it weren’t for Flo’s encouragement, Kate may never have summoned the courage to get on the train and deal with the contents of the letter.

Kate tapped her pocket to check the letter was still there. It could be her ticket out of The Sunbeam and its endless stream of hen and stag parties to clean up after. It could mean the end of stripping sheets stained with foundation and fake tan, clearing overflowing bins and scrubbing hangover stained toilets.

In an attempt to rest her legs, Kate perched herself on the bike's saddle. The wheels went from under her and sent her flying into Sweaty Man. He turned with a scowl, which became a sickly smile as he realised his attacker was a petite brunette. Gross. Kate smiled back through pursed lips and shuffled herself and her bike as far back from him as she could, a distance that could be measured in centimetres, if not millimetres.