Praise for Sophie Kinsella and Shopaholic & Baby
 
“From sonograms to the hottest baby strollers to tricked-out birthing rooms . . . Kinsella’s ode to baby blues is both sly and slapstick.”—Publishers Weekly
 
“Faster than a swiping Visa, more powerful than a two-for-one coupon, able to buy complete wardrobes in a single sprint through the mall—it’s Shopaholic!”—The Washington Post
 
“Kinsella’s heroine is blessed with the resilience of ten women, and her damage-limitation brain waves are always good for a giggle.”—Glamour (U.K.)
 
“As fun as a shopping spree.”—Entertainment Weekly

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.

Klappentext
Becky Brandon (n& #233; e Bloomwood) is pregnant! She couldn& #8217; t be more overjoyed& #8211; especially since discovering that shopping cures morning sickness. Everything has got to be perfect for her baby: from the designer nursery . . . to the latest, coolest pram . . . to the celebrity, must-have obstetrician.< br> < br> But when the celebrity obstetrician turns out to be her husband Luke& #8217; s glamorous, intellectual ex-girlfriend, Becky's perfect world starts to crumble. She& #8217; s shopping for two . . . but are there three in her marriage?< br> < br> < br> < i> From the Hardcover edition.< /i>

Zusammenfassung
*#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • From the author of The Party Crasher and Love Your Life . . .

“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*
 
Becky Brandon’s life is blooming. She’s working at London’s newest big store, The Look, house-hunting with husband Luke (her secret wish is a Shoe Room) . . . and she’s pregnant. She couldn’t be more overjoyed—especially after discovering that shopping cures morning sickness. Everything has to be perfect for her baby: from the designer nursery and the latest stroller to top-of-the-line medical care.
 
But when the must-have celebrity obstetrician Becky’s been so desperate to see turns out to be Luke’s glamorous, intellectual ex-girlfriend, Becky’s perfect world starts to crumble. She’s shopping for two . . . but are there three in her marriage?

Praise for Sophie Kinsella and Shopaholic & Baby

“From sonograms to the hottest baby strollers to tricked-out birthing rooms . . . Kinsella’s ode to baby blues is both sly and slapstick.”—Publishers Weekly
 
“Faster than a swiping Visa, more powerful than a two-for-one coupon, able to buy complete wardrobes in a single sprint through the mall—it’s Shopaholic!”—The Washington Post
 
“Kinsella’s heroine is blessed with the resilience of ten women, and her damage-limitation brain waves are always good for a giggle.”—Glamour (U.K.)
 
“As fun as a shopping spree.”—Entertainment Weekly

Leseprobe
*Chapter One
*

Ok. Don't panic. Everything's going to be fine. Of course it is.

Of course it is.

"If you could lift up your top, Mrs. Brandon?" The sonographer has a pleasant, professional air as she looks down at me. "I need to apply some jelly to your abdomen before we start the scan."

"Absolutely!" I say without moving a muscle. "The thing is, I'm just a teeny bit . . . nervous."

I'm lying on a bed at the Chelsea and Westminster hospital, tense with anticipation. Any minute now, Luke and I will see our baby on the screen for the first time since it was just a teeny blob. I still can't quite believe it. In fact, I still haven't quite got over the fact that I'm pregnant. In nineteen weeks' time I, Becky Brandon, née Bloomwood . . . am going to be a mother. A mother!

Luke's my husband, by the way. We've been married for just over a year and this is a one hundred percent genuine honeymoon baby! We traveled loads on our honeymoon, but I've pretty much worked out that we conceived it when we were staying in this gorgeous resort in Sri Lanka, called Unawatuna, all orchids and bamboo trees and beautiful views.

Unawatuna Brandon.

Miss Unawatuna Orchid Bamboo-tree Brandon.

Hmm. I'm not sure what Mum would say.

"My wife had a slight accident in the early stages of pregnancy," Luke explains from his seat beside the bed. "So she's a little anxious."

He squeezes my hand supportively, and I squeeze back. In my pregnancy book, Nine Months of Your Life, it says you should include your partner in all aspects of your pregnancy, otherwise he can feel hurt and alienated. So I'm including Luke as much as I possibly can. Like, last night I included him in watching my new DVD, Toned Arms in Pregnancy. He suddenly remembered in the middle that he had to make a business call, and missed quite a lot--but the point is, he doesn't feel shut out.

"You had an accident?" The sonographer pauses in her tapping at the computer.

"I fell off this mountain when I was looking for my long-lost sister in a storm," I explain. "I didn't know I was pregnant at the time. And I think maybe I bashed the baby."

"I see." The sonographer looks at me kindly. She has graying brown hair tied back in a knot, with a pencil stuck into it. "Well, babies are resilient little things. Let's just have a look, shall we?"

Here it is. The moment I've been obsessing over for weeks. Gingerly I lift up my top and look down at my swelling stomach.

"If you could just push all your necklaces aside?" she adds. "That's quite a collection you have there!"

"They're special pendants." I loop them together with a jangle. "This one is an Aztec maternity symbol, and this is a gestation crystal . . . and this is a chiming ball to soothe the baby . . . and this is a birthing stone."

"A birthing stone?"

"You press it on a special spot on your palm, and it takes away the pain of labor," I explain. "It's been used since ancient Maori times."

"Mm-hmm." The sonographer raises an eyebrow and squeezes some transparent gloop on my stomach. Frowning slightly, she applies the ultrasound probe thing to my skin, and instantly a fuzzy black-and-white image appears on the screen.

I can't breathe.

That's our baby. Inside me. I dart a look at Luke, and he's gazing at the screen, transfixed.

"There are the four chambers of the heart. . . ." The sonographer is moving the probe around. "Now we're looking at the shoulders. . . ." She points to the screen and I squint obediently, even though, to be honest, I can't see any shoulders, only blurry curves.

"There's an arm . . . one hand . . ." Her voice trails off and she frowns.

There's silence in the little room. I feel a sudden grip of fear. That's why she's frowning. The baby's only got one hand. I knew it.

A wave of overpowering love and protectiveness rises up inside me. Tears are welling in my eyes. I don't care if our baby's only got one hand. I'll love it just as much. I'll love it more. Luke and I will take it anywhere in the world for the best treatment, and we'll fund research, and if anyone even…