Zusatztext PRAISE FOR SOPHIE KINSELLA [Kinsella] continues to tickle funny bones and touch hearts. USA Today! on Twenties Girl Hilarious . . . a breezy blend of romantic comedy and cautionary fairy tale. New York Post! on Remember Me? A fast! fun read that delves a little deeper. The Plain Dealer! on The Undomestic Goddess Informationen zum Autor Sophie Kinsella was a writer and financial journalist. She was the #1 bestselling author of Can You Keep a Secret?, The Undomestic Goddess, Remember Me?, Twenties Girl, I've Got Your Number, Wedding Night, My Not So Perfect Life, Surprise Me, The Burnout, What Does It Feel Like?, the hugely popular Shopaholic novels, and the young adult novel Finding Audrey . She passed away in 2025.CHAPTER 1 Perspective. I need to get perspective. It's not an earthquake or a crazed gunman or a nuclear meltdown, is it? On the scale of disasters, this is not huge. Not huge. One day I expect I'll look back at this moment and laugh and think, Ha-ha, how silly I was to worry Stop, Poppy. Don't even try. I'm not laughingin fact, I feel sick. I'm walking blindly around the hotel ballroom, my heart thudding, looking fruitlessly on the patterned blue carpet, behind gilt chairs, under discarded paper napkins, in places where it couldn't possibly be. I've lost it. The only thing in the world I wasn't supposed to lose. My engagement ring. To say this is a special ring is an understatement. It's been in Magnus's family for three generations. It's this stunning emerald with two diamonds, and Magnus had to get it out of a special bank vault before he proposed. I've worn it safely every day for three whole months, religiously putting it on a special china tray at night, feeling for it on my finger every thirty seconds?.?.?.?and now, the very day his parents are coming back from the States, I've lost it. The very same day. Professors Antony Tavish and Wanda Brook-Tavish are, at this precise moment, flying back from six months' sabbatical in Chicago. I can picture them now, eating honey-roasted peanuts and reading academic papers on their his 'n' hers Kindles. I honestly don't know which of them is more intimidating. Him. He's so sarcastic. No, her. With all that frizzy hair and always asking you questions about your views on feminism. OK, they're both bloody scary. And they're landing in about an hour, and of course they'll want to see the ring No. Do not hyperventilate, Poppy. Stay positive. I just need to look at this from a different angle. Like?.?.?.?what would Poirot do? Poirot wouldn't flap around in panic. He'd stay calm and use his little gray cells and recall some tiny, vital detail which would be the clue to everything. I squeeze my eyes tight. Little gray cells. Come on. Do your best. Thing is, I'm not sure Poirot had three glasses of pink champagne and a mojito before he solved the Murder on the Orient Express. Miss? A gray-haired cleaning lady is trying to get round me with a Hoover, and I gasp in horror. They're Hoovering the ballroom already? What if they suck it up? Excuse me. I grab her blue nylon shoulder. Could you just give me five more minutes to search before you start Hoovering? Still looking for your ring? She shakes her head doubtfully, then brightens. I expect you'll find it safe at home. It's probably been there all the time! Maybe. I force myself to nod politely, although I feel like screaming, I'm not that stupid! I spot another cleaner, on the other side of the ballroom, clearing cupcake crumbs and crumpled paper napkins into a black plastic bin bag. She isn't concentrating at all. Wasn't she listening to me? Excuse me! My voice shrills out as I sprint across to her. You are looking out f...

PRAISE FOR SOPHIE KINSELLA
 
“[Kinsella] continues to tickle funny bones and touch hearts.”—USA Today, on Twenties Girl
 
“Hilarious . . . a breezy blend of romantic comedy and cautionary fairy tale.”—New York Post, on Remember Me?
 
“A fast, fun read that delves a little deeper.”—The Plain Dealer, on The Undomestic Goddess

Autorentext
Sophie Kinsella was a writer and financial journalist. She was the #1 bestselling author of Can You Keep a Secret?, The Undomestic Goddess, Remember Me?, Twenties Girl, I’ve Got Your Number, Wedding Night, My Not So Perfect Life, Surprise Me, The Burnout, What Does It Feel Like?, the hugely popular Shopaholic novels, and the young adult novel Finding Audrey. She passed away in 2025.

Zusammenfassung
From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Party Crasher and Love Your Life comes “a rollicking page-turner . . . It’s funny. It’s clever. It twists and turns. . . . Sophie Kinsella has yet another winner.” (Fort Worth Star-Telegram)

“Sophie Kinsella keeps her finger on the cultural pulse, while leaving me giddy with laughter.”—Jojo Moyes, author of The Giver of Stars and The Last Letter from Your Lover

Poppy Wyatt has never felt luckier. She is about to marry her ideal man, Magnus Tavish, but in one afternoon her “happily ever after” begins to fall apart. Not only has she lost her engagement ring in a hotel fire drill, but in the panic that follows, her phone is stolen. As she paces shakily around the lobby, she spots an abandoned phone in a trash can. Finders keepers! Now she can leave a number for the hotel to contact her when they find her ring. Perfect!
 
Well, perfect except that the phone’s owner, businessman Sam Roxton, doesn’t agree. He wants his phone back and doesn’t appreciate Poppy reading his messages and wading into his personal life.
 
What ensues is a hilarious and unpredictable turn of events as Poppy and Sam increasingly upend each other’s lives through emails and text messages. As Poppy juggles wedding preparations, mysterious phone calls, and hiding her left hand from Magnus and his parents, she soon realizes that she is in for the biggest surprise of her life.

“Fresh, fast-paced, and fiercely funny . . . Kinsella pens her most lovably neurotic protagonist yet. . . . A laugh-out-loud comic caper.”—Publishers Weekly
**
“Poppy is easily as charming and daffy as shopaholic Rebecca Bloomwood.”—Kirkus Reviews**
**
“A screwball romance for the digital age.”—The Star-Ledger**

Leseprobe
CHAPTER 1

Perspective. I need to get perspective. It’s not an earthquake or a crazed gunman or a nuclear meltdown, is it? On the scale of disasters, this is not huge. Not huge. One day I expect I’ll look back at this moment and laugh and think, Ha-ha, how silly I was to worry—

Stop, Poppy. Don’t even try. I’m not laughing—in fact, I feel sick. I’m walking blindly around the hotel ballroom, my heart thudding, looking fruitlessly on the patterned blue carpet, behind gilt chairs, under discarded paper napkins, in places where it couldn’t possibly be.

I’ve lost it. The only thing in the world I wasn’t supposed to lose. My engagement ring.

To say this is a special ring is an understatement. It’s been in Magnus’s family for three generations. It’s this stunning emerald with two diamonds, and Magnus had to get it out of a special bank vault before he proposed. I’ve worn it safely every day for three whole months, religiously putting it on a special china tray at night, feeling for it on my finger every thirty seconds?.?.?.?and now, the very day his parents are coming back from the States, I’ve lost it. The very same day.

Professors Antony Tavish and Wanda Brook-Tavish are, at this precise moment, flying back from six months’ sabbatical in Chicago. I can picture them now, eating honey-roasted …