A young woman tries to heal a rift in her elderly pen pal’s family in time for Christmas, all while falling in love—and maybe even reuniting with her own family—in this dazzling romance from the author of Always, in December and One Last Gift Sometimes it takes a stranger to bring you back to yourself. Ever since a car accident tore her family apart, Holly has been part of a lonely-hearts holiday letter–writing club. Each December, she writes to a stranger who is also spending Christmas alone, and receives a letter from another lonely person in return.  Usually, the letters go unanswered. That’s the point—the letters are anonymous, and the senders write whatever is in their heart. But this year, the letter Holly receives is different; not only is the letter full of a grief she knows all too well, but its writer, Emma, mentions a place that Holly has visited. When she realizes that she might actually be able to find the letter’s author, Holly becomes determined to reunite Emma with the estranged grandson, Jack, with whom Emma is desperate to reconnect. When Holly finally tracks him down, she remembers that she’s met Jack once before . . . and the connection was electric. The spark between the two of them is still there—until a misunderstanding risks their burgeoning romance and his strained relationship with Emma, too. But Holly is determined; if she can fix Emma’s family, she might also be able to fix her own. Though as it turns out, Holly might have less time to put things right than she thought. Praise for Love, Holly “A gorgeous, festive, romantic read . . . highly recommend!” —Sophie Cousens, New York Times bestselling author of This Time Next Year and Before I Do “This is a well-written, heartbreaking novel at times, that gets you emotionally involved. Make sure to have tissues handy.” — Red Carpet Crash “A funny, heartwarming romance.” — Reviewed   “Written with her signature charm, Emily Stone’s Love, Holly is a heartfelt novel that will endear readers.” — Booklist “Stone dazzles in this emotional and immersive holiday romance. . . . As [the characters] navigate their relationships with each other, all learn stirring lessons about the meaning of family, the preciousness of time, and the strength in forgiveness. Readers should have tissues at the ready.” — Publishers Weekly (starred review) Praise for the novels of Emily Stone “Truly an unforgettable and heart-tugging novel.” — USA Today, on Always, in December “A poignant, life-affirming story that will wrap around you like a hug.” —Josie Silver, #1 New York Times bestselling author of One Day in December, on Always, in December “A tender book about love, loss, and healing.” — PopSugar, on One Last Gift “With this beautiful and heart-wrenching Christmas story, Stone delivers an epic story of family, loss, and the triumph of love. . . . Readers should have tissues at the ready.” — Publishers Weekly (starred review), on One Last Gift Emily Stone is the author of Always, in December and One Last Gift . She lives and works in the UK and wrote her first novel in an old Victorian manor house with an impressive literary heritage. Chapter One Holly kept her eyes peeled as she drove along the main road that led through North Devon, her sister resting her head on the window, eyes closed. Which was not helpful, being as how Lily was supposed to be keeping Holly awake on the long drive from London to the little holiday cottage in the middle of bloody nowhere that their parents had rented for Christmas. And right now, Holly was flagging. Despite the cold, damp air, it was toasty warm inside her parents’ little Fiesta, the Christmas songs on the radio were now making her sleepy with their repetition, and her and Lily’s car game of Who Am I? had long since been abandoned. And what kind of main road was this, anyway? All these winding turns made it impossible to go safely above about forty miles an hour. All Holly wanted right now was a coffee, but there hadn’t been any sign of a petrol station for miles. It was beautiful down here, though, she’d give it that. There were hedgerows lining each side of the road, slightly bare at the moment but no doubt full of life in spring and summer, with fields stretching out eternally beyond them. Under the gray December sky, it looked brilliantly moody and almost ethereal. At the next sign for the nearest village, Holly hung a right, causing Lily to sit up, blinking her eyes blearily. “What are you doing?” “I need caffeine; I’m finding somewhere to stop.” Lily wrinkled her nose, but that was the only sign of protest she made as they drove into the village. It was buzzing with life—­more life than Holly would have expected. Maybe that was because it was Christmas Eve: Everyone was out doing their last-­minute shopping here too, just like in London. There were Christmas lights hanging up on what Holly presumed was the high street and a giant Christmas tree sto