JOJO MOYES THE LAST LETTER FROM YOUR LOVER PDF

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Also by Jojo Moyes. Happy Birthday! Enclosed is your birthday present which I hope you like I am thinking of you especially today because I have decided. The Last Letter from Your Lover. View PDF. Romantic Novel of the Year Award book | Fiction | UK → Hodder and Stoughton (Ed. Carolyn Mays). A Brief Encounter for our time, The Last Letter from Your Lover is a sophisticated, spellbinding double love story that spans decades and thrillingly evokes a.


Jojo Moyes The Last Letter From Your Lover Pdf

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Editorial Reviews. Review. "A weepie that'll have you snivelling ecstatically into your cocoa. The Last Letter from Your Lover: A Novel - site edition by Jojo Moyes. Download it once and read it on your site device, PC, phones or tablets. Download [PDF] Books The Last Letter from Your Lover [PDF, ePub, Mobi] by Jojo Moyes Online Full Collection "Click Visit button" to access full FREE ebook. The Last Letter from Your Lover book. Read reviews from the world's largest community for readers. A sophisticated, page-turning double love story.

Then he sat on the side of her bed and laid a hand on her shoulder. She had worked out pretty quickly that everyone seemed happier if she did so. But the main thing is simply for you to rest and not worry too much about anything. Do you understand? What else could she say? The nurses had lined up in the downstairs reception area to say good-bye to her, bright as pins in their starched pinafores. She still felt curiously weak and unsteady on her feet, and was grateful for the arm that he held out to her.

You look wonderful, Mrs.

'+_.E(b)+"

Thank you. He had arranged for three T h e L a s t L e t t er f rom You r Lov er 11 outfits to be sent over for her. They glanced up as Dr. Hargreaves put his head out of an office. You might wish to leave by the back entrance if you want to avoid any fuss.

Would you mind sending my driver round? She struggled to keep up with him, her breath coming in short bursts, and then she was in the back of a large black car, engulfed by the huge leather seats, and the doors closed with an expensive clunk.

The car moved off into the London traffic with a low purr. She peered out of the window, watching the newspapermen, just visible on the front steps, and muffled photographers comparing lenses. Beyond, the central London streets were thick with people hurrying past, their collars turned up against the wind, men with trilbies pulled low over their brows.

He was muttering something to the driver. The nurses, at the hospital. I think I read something. Then he turned back to his driver. The driver placed her valise carefully in the hallway and retreated. Her husband, behind 12 jojo moy e s her, nodded to a woman who was standing in the hallway, apparently to greet them. She was in late middle age; her dark hair was pulled back into a tight chignon, and she was dressed in a navy two-piece. Her smile was genuine, and she spoke in heavily accented English.

The woman waited to take their coats, and disappeared along the hall with them. Will you be all right with Mrs. He stooped, kissed her cheek, and, after a brief hesitation, was gone. She stood in the hallway, hearing his footsteps fade down the steps outside, the soft hum of the engine as his great car pulled away. The house seemed suddenly cavernous. She touched the silk-lined wallpaper, took in the polished parquet flooring, the vertiginously high ceilings.

She removed her gloves, with precise, deliberate motions. Then she leaned forward for a closer look at the photographs on the hall table.

And there she was, wearing a fitted white dress, her face half masked by a white lace veil, her husband smiling broadly at her side. I really did marry him, she thought. And then: I look so happy.

She jumped. I thought you might like to take it in the drawing room. Then she looked back at the photograph. A moment passed before she spoke again.

Just till I sit down. Jennifer had had to wait for her husband to return before she could put anything on the table: her right arm was still weak, and she was afraid of dropping the heavy cast-iron pot. My house, she told herself over and over. My things. My husband. Once or twice she let her mind go blank and her feet carry her to where she thought a bathroom or study might be, and was gratified to discover that some part of her still knew this place.

She gazed at the books in the drawing room, noting, with a kind of mild satisfaction, that while so much was strange she could mentally recite the plots of many.

She lingered longest in her bedroom. Cordoza had unpacked her suitcase and put everything away. Two built-in cupboards opened to reveal great quantities of immaculately stored clothes.

Everything fitted her perfectly, even the most well-worn shoes. Her hairbrush, perfumes, and powders were lined up on a dressing table. The scents met her skin with a pleasant familiarity.

The colors of the cosmetics suited her: Coty, Chanel, Elizabeth Arden, Dorothy Gray—her mirror was surrounded by a small battalion of expensive creams and unguents. I am a woman to whom appearances matter, she observed.

She sat and stared at herself in the three-sided mirror, then began to brush her hair with long, steady strokes. This is what I do, she said to herself, several times. He arrived back shortly before seven. She was waiting for him in the hall, her makeup fresh and a light spray of scent over her neck and shoulders. She could see it pleased him, this semblance of normality.

She took his coat, hung it in the cupboard, and asked if he would like a drink. She hesitated, one hand poised on a decanter. Turning, he saw her indecision. Two fingers, with ice. She ladled the steaming food onto plates, and he placed them at each setting. This is my life, she found herself thinking, as she watched his hands move. This is what we do in the evenings.

Might you be up to it? Did you make it? It was Mrs. She drank water—Dr. Hargreaves had advised against anything stronger—but she envied her husband the glass in front of him. Cordoza to help, of course. I have some business there, and the sun might do you good. Hargreaves said it might help your.

A sudden vision of a moonlit seafront. The clinking of glasses. She closed her eyes, willing the fleeting image to become clear.

She could hear her pulse in her ears. Stay calm, she told herself. It will all come. Hargreaves said it would. Perhaps a little happier there than in London.

There it was again, the feeling that she was being tested. She forced herself to chew and swallow. The room fell silent but for the slow scraping of his cutlery on his plate, an oppressive sound. She had lain in the bed, acutely aware of the sheets around her, the moonlight that sliced through the long curtains, the distant sounds of traffic in the square, of taxis slowing to disgorge their occupants, a polite greeting from someone walking a dog.

She had kept very still, waiting for something to click into place, for the ease with which she had fitted back into her physical environment to seep into her mind. And then the door had opened. He did not turn on the light. She heard the soft clash of wooden hangers as he hung up his jacket, the soft vacuum thuck of his shoes being pulled from his feet. And suddenly she was rigid. Her husband— this man, this stranger—was going to climb into her bed.

She had half expected him to sleep in the spare room. She bit down on her lip, her eyes shut tight, forcing her breathing to stay slow, in semblance of sleep.

The Last Letter from Your Lover

She heard him disappear into the bathroom, the sluice of the tap, vigorous brushing of teeth and a brief gargle. His feet padded back across the carpeted floor, and then he was sliding between the covers, causing the mattress to dip and the bedstead to creak in protest.

For a minute he lay there, and she fought to maintain her even breaths. Oh, please, not yet, she willed him. I hardly know you. She felt his hand on her hip, forced herself not to flinch.

He moved it tentatively. She felt him pause, his hand still, and then, with a sigh of his own, he lay back heavily on his pillows. Arbuthnot, his two-thirty, was late.

Clearly the last meeting had not gone well. She stood up, smoothing her skirt, and took his coat, which was speckled with rain from the short walk between his car and the office. She placed his umbrella in the stand, then took a moment longer than usual to hang the coat carefully on the hook.

She had worked for him long enough now to judge when he needed a little time alone. Arbuthnot has been held up in traffic. Evidently satisfied, he took his pen from his breast pocket and signed with short, abrupt strokes.

She placed his tea on his desk and folded the letters into her pile of papers. Here are the sales figures for last week. The latest wage totals are in 18 jojo moy e s this folder here. With your tea? She did her best not to color.

She knew the other secretaries mocked her for what they considered her overattentive manner with her boss, not to mention her prim clothes and slightly stiff way of doing things.

But he was a man who liked things done properly, and she had always understood that. She hesitated briefly, then pulled the last letter from her folder. I thought you should probably see this. He read the letter twice. The unions are behind it. She made as if to leave, then turned back. Glad to be back at home, I should say. Her smile still painted on her face, Moira Parker clasped her paperwork to her chest and marched back out to her desk.

Nothing too challenging. Two of those friends were familiar now, having visited Jennifer in the hospital and again once she had returned home.

Jennifer had struggled initially to catch the shared references, to gauge any significance from the names they bandied between them, but she had felt at ease in their company. She was learning to trust her gut reactions to people: memories could be lodged in places other than the mind. Forget I ever married Francis in the first place. But for what? She seemed to have lost a little weight in the hospital, and the front puckered unattractively.

Yvonne laughed. The marvelous Mrs. C will have done you proud. The house looks beautiful. You look stunning. Or, at least, you will if you put some damned clothes on. She held out her arm. The scar was raised and still angrily pink. I just wondered whether the scar would be a bit. Just until it fades a little. It was the first straightforward thing anyone had said to her since she had come home. She stepped out of the dress, went to her wardrobe, and rifled through it until she found a sheath in raw silk.

She pulled it off the rail and gazed at it. It was so flashy. Since she had been at home she had wanted to hide in tweed, subtle grays and brown, yet these jeweled dresses kept leaping out at her. Is this how I used to look? Just like I know him. I can feel it here.

The Last Letter from Your Lover

She pulled open one drawer, then another, searching for a handkerchief. Yvonne waited a moment. Then she stood up, walked over, and sat down with her on the narrow stool.

You have the perfect life, the rich, handsome husband who adores you, and a wardrobe any T h e L a s t L e t t er f rom You r Lov er 21 woman would die for. Your hair is always perfect.

Francis adores you. Whenever he sees your minxy little smile, those blond tresses of yours, I can see him wondering why on earth he married this lanky, cranky old Jewess. As for Bill. Before you were married, he virtually followed you around like a lapdog. I like you.

Jennifer rubbed at a spot on the carpet with her toe. She glanced at Jennifer and arched her eyebrows. You should do what that ridiculously expensive doctor said and stop fretting. In the meantime, enjoy your innocence while it lasts.

You have a quartz necklace that goes fabulously with it. It makes your bust look like two deflated balloons. He took off his scarf, kissed Yvonne, and apologized for his lateness. You know how these money men go on.

Bores me to tears. Your wife always scrubs up rather well. Yes, indeed. Two fingers, no ice? These were her friends. They were another step to bringing her back to herself.

Thank you so much for asking us. She unpinned it from her head and handed it over with her coat. She was wearing a scoop-necked silk dress, which strained like a wind-filled parachute around her ample contours. A picture of loveliness, as always. Jennifer was astonished by the unlikeliness of this coupling. Let me get you a drink in the meantime. Are we terribly formal this evening? She should be reclining upstairs consumptively while we select one man at a time to peel her a grape.

But she would insist on martinis.

She really is the most useless woman. Bill, she noted, rarely looked at his wife, let alone addressed her. Sophie Kinsella. Editorial Reviews Review "A weepie that'll have you snivelling ecstatically into your cocoa.

Moyes writes for a variety of newspapers and magazines. She is married to Charles Arthur, technology editor of The Guardian. They live with their three children on a farm in Essex, England. See all Editorial Reviews. Product details File Size: Penguin Books July 7, Publication Date: July 7, Sold by: English ASIN: Enabled X-Ray: Literary Fiction. Book Series. Romance Novels. Is this feature helpful?

Thank you for your feedback. Share your thoughts with other customers. Write a customer review. Customer images. See all customer images. Read reviews that mention jojo moyes last letter letter from your lover well written twists and turns highly recommend back and forth really enjoyed great read jennifer stirling easy read beautifully written story line happy ending left behind past and present girl you left page turner married man must read.

Top Reviews Most recent Top Reviews. There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later. Paperback Verified download. I am a Moyes fan, but this definitely was not her best. I have read several of her books and sometimes they start slowly but once into it, they move along. This one took at least the first pages before it started to hold my interest.

The first part was slow moving, tedious and full of uninteresting minutia regarding Jennifer's life with her friends and husband. The so called friends were not characters that I cared about. Sometimes it was hard to follow who was married to who but I really didn't care. I actually did not get into the book until about the last pages which were the best. If you are a Moyes fan and want to read this book, that's fine, but don't expect it to be of the same caliber as Me Before You or After You.

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Of course, this is my opinion and I see from other reviews that many would not agree with me. site Edition Verified download. This is a wonderful story. I felt caught up in the s and the realistic portrayal of the social, political and business climates of the day. The side story of the unrest during the Congo's fight for independence had me interested enough to do some extra reading on what happened there. Unlike some of the other reviewers I never had a problem with the timeline jumps and was invested in all the characters.

The plot line that takes place forty years later is completely necessary to bring the original story to it's conclusion. Even after reading the book twice I still never picked that up. Any suggestions? This book!! I really love the way that Ms. Moyes totally immerses you in her characters.

When we first meet our main character, Jennifer Stirling, she's waking up in hospital, having had a traumatic car accident.

Refresh and try again. Open Preview See a Problem? Details if other: Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. A sophisticated, page-turning double love story spanning forty years-an unforgettable Brief Encounter for our times.

It is When Jennifer Stirling wakes up in the hospital, she can remember nothing-not the tragic car accident that put her there, not her husband, not even who she is. She feels like a stranger in her own life until she stumbles upon an impassioned lett. She feels like a stranger in her own life until she stumbles upon an impassioned letter, signed simply "B", asking her to leave her husband.

Years later, in , a journalist named Ellie discovers the same enigmatic letter in a forgotten file in her newspaper's archives. She becomes obsessed by the story and hopeful that it can resurrect her faltering career. Perhaps if these lovers had a happy ending she will find one to her own complicated love life, too. Ellie's search will rewrite history and help her see the truth about her own modern romance. Get A Copy. Hardcover , pages. More Details Original Title.

Other Editions Win a Copy of This Book. In , Jennifer Stirling wakes in the hospital and remembers nothing—not the car accident that put her there, not her wealthy husband, not even her own name.

Searching for clues, she finds an impassioned letter, signed simply "B," from a man for whom she seemed willing to risk everything. Remarkably moving, this is a novel for romantics of every age.

The Last Letter from Your Lover

Enter Giveaway. Print book Giveaway ends in: Apr 10 - May 01, Countries available: Friend Reviews. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. I didn't think anything could surpass Me Before You. Suggestions, please Rebecca I just returned it to Audible, as I realized it was making me feel bad when I thought about listening to it!

Pretentious narrator, achingly dull plot, …more I just returned it to Audible, as I realized it was making me feel bad when I thought about listening to it!

Pretentious narrator, achingly dull plot, and boring characters. What happened to the energy and pizzazz of Me Before You or the one about the long car trip with the kids and the dog?

Lists with This Book. Community Reviews. Showing Rating details. Sort order. Jul 07, Summer rated it it was ok Shelves: This novel depicts a young woman's struggle with her marriage during the s when divorce was taboo and society rules dictated that women be seen and not heard. This novel also depicts a young woman in the present day who struggles with her relationship with a married man and her job at a newspaper, which she is at risk of losing.

I got a little lost in this novel, not because it was confusing, but because the voice changed throughout. I really enjoyed the story of Jennifer Stirling, and I think that particular storyline could have been a good book all on its own. But the author threw in Ellie's story along with it, which was not quite as strong. The story was a little flimsy and we spent less time with the character development in Ellie's portion of the book, so it was much harder for me to empathize with her.

The voice of the book changed dramatically when we got to Ellie's story. It felt like two different writers wrote the stories and tried to find a way to tie them together. I would have done something a little different with this novel if I were editing it. The storyline of Ellie is brought in much too late in the story.

Once I finished reading the first couple sections about Jennifer Stirling, I was so engaged in her story that it was jarring to launch me into a completely different and NEW story.

The writer could have done one of two things here: Either forget about Ellie and just tell the story of Jennifer Stirling, OR begin the book with Ellie and pepper the flashbacks to the s throughout so that the reader and Ellie discover Jennifer's story together.

This would make the stories much more integrated. I think there's a lot of good stuff here, but the book needs some work to achieve its full potential. The Last Letter from Your Lover View all 27 comments. Jan 03, Luffy rated it really liked it. This is a 'cold case' with 'love story' interspersed through it. Jennifer wakes up in a hospital suffering from total amnesia. That's in But someone, years later, will take up the cold trail of Jennifer's fate, and follow it faithfully until she knows what has happened to Jennifer.

I thought that Jennifer would have to be devious to cheat on her husband. But then, autres temps, autres moeurs. The author manages to make me sympathize with Jennifer. What is great is that never is it told outr This is a 'cold case' with 'love story' interspersed through it. What is great is that never is it told outright that Jennifer and her lover are soulmates.

But Jennifer's husband is a male chauvinistic pig, who doesn't even care to strike a friendship with his wife. But Anthony O'Hare, Jennifer's lover, is a very sensitive guy. You root for him. By doing so, you're championing the women's movement that sparked in the 60's.

By doing so, you're reaching to another decade where things were different, where you maybe weren't even born yet, but you empathize with your brethren. I'm not a gal, yet the book made me understand Jennifer's plight.

Maybe that's why I like the book so much. View all 15 comments. This was a very romantic double love story that centered around secret hand written love letters. The first two-thirds of the book was Jennifer Stirling's story taking place in the early 's. I'm not sure why I always think I'm not going to like a historical romance, because so far I have loved the ones I've read.

This was my favorite part of the book. I felt that Ms. Moyes did a beautiful job of painting a picture of this period of t 4.

Moyes did a beautiful job of painting a picture of this period of time, it was like watching an old movie. There were several plot twists I didn't see coming, so it definitely kept me turning the pages. The last third of the book moves forward in time to , where Ellie Haworth finds some of these love letters, and they inspire her to make decisions about her own story.

I ended up liking the format of the book when I reached the end, if anyone is going to be a sucker for an epic love story it'll be me. When I was reading though, it was a little frustrating to have the time jump.

It was kind of like having a cliffhanger within a book. I was very engaged with Jennifer's story, desperate to know what happened with her, so the time jump tested my patience.

It's funny though, out of the three books I've read by this amazing author, this book had my favorite ending. My favorite book by Jojo Moyes is , closely followed by. Her books for me always make an impression and become those rare books that stay with you, I can't recommend them highly enough. View all 56 comments. Una historia sin duda cautivadora!!! Un relato exquisito. Una pluma suave y delicada. Mil gracias Lidia por recomendarme este libro!!! View all 11 comments.

Apr 21, William rated it liked it. I'm expecting that I am one of very few readers who did not absolutely love this book. As far as I can tell, I am the only male who has read it, which may explain my minority view. For the first half, I kept fighting not to abandon it entirely. But as it turns out, this is really two novels: I wonder if the page book could have simply started in the middle and been a lot better. Why did the first I'm expecting that I am one of very few readers who did not absolutely love this book.

Why did the first half put me off? The characters struck me as fairly cliche and flat, and I could not figure out why either of the lovers engendered passion in the other.

The romantic attachment simply never struck me as credible.

On the one hand you have Jennifer, a privileged, stunning, and utterly self-possessed young woman. She never even reads a newspaper, and he has a total lack of familiarity with the upper reaches of society which Jennifer inhabits. I just don't get it. The characters do not improve that much in the second half, though Jennifer seems to have acquired some wisdom and an internal dignity rather than just elegantly refined social graces.

But the story, which had for me limped painfully through the two hundred pages, begins to zip along. The plot becomes inventive, has believable surprises, and actually finally includes some moments which moved me. I'm still not convinced that the time it takes to read this book is well-spent, but at least there is some fulfillment for the reader if you stick to it through the end.

View all 13 comments. The multiple povs, the story was all over the place in part 1 and was too confusing for me.

Also I didnt like present day heroine, Ellie and felt like the author could have left her story out. It was a forbidden romance with a lot of missed opportunities and I started to get into the story more by part 2 but by part 3 I felt exhausted. There was some good plot twist but by the end it didnt leave me satisfied.

Im glad I picked it up though as 3 stars I had a really hard time getting into this. Im glad I picked it up though as I adore this author. View all 31 comments. Jul 01, PDXReader rated it it was ok. I cannot believe how much I disliked this book. I tried to like it -- I really tried -- but honestly, it's got to be the least satisfying book I've read this year.

The first section occurs in , and it's dreadful. The plot is thin and predictable, the characters melodramatic, one-dimensional and stereotypical. The writing is terrible; not only is it over-the-top, but several times I had to re-read sentences to try to figure out what the author was trying to say never a good sign.

Even the se I cannot believe how much I disliked this book. Even the sex scenes are dull!Ellie embarks on a quest for this mysterious 'B' and the unknown recipient of the letter. Every time she thought she had worked out what they were, they moved again. Any suggestions? Welcome back. Her husband, behind 12 jojo moy e s her, nodded to a woman who was standing in the hallway, apparently to greet them. Having been in a horrible car accident, she has no knowledge of what got her there.

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