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Danielle Hawkins

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Danielle Hawkins


Born
New Zealand
Genre


Bestselling New Zealand author Danielle Hawkins lives on a sheep and beef farm near Otorohanga with her husband and two children. She works part-time as a large animal vet, and writes when the kids are at school and she's not required for farming purposes. She is a keen gardener, an intermittently keen cook and an avid reader. Her other talents include memorising poetry, making bread and zapping flies with an electric fly swat. She tends to exaggerate to improve a story, with the result that her husband believes almost nothing she says. ...more

Average rating: 3.96 · 5,126 ratings · 536 reviews · 11 distinct worksSimilar authors
Chocolate Cake for Breakfast

3.89 avg rating — 1,510 ratings — published 2013 — 9 editions
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The Pretty Delicious Café

3.93 avg rating — 1,400 ratings — published 2016 — 11 editions
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Dinner at Rose's

4.02 avg rating — 1,183 ratings — published 2012 — 17 editions
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When It All Went to Custard

really liked it 4.00 avg rating — 764 ratings — published 2019 — 6 editions
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Two Shakes of a Lamb's Tail...

4.08 avg rating — 268 ratings4 editions
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The Gold Rose That Bloomed ...

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La cena delle bugie (eNewto...

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Das traumhafte Café am Meer

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Deliverance from Trauma Bonds

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More books by Danielle Hawkins…
Quotes by Danielle Hawkins  (?)
Quotes are added by the Goodreads community and are not verified by Goodreads. (Learn more)

“I woke up horribly early the next morning to the sound of some sadistic bastard operating an electric hedge-trimmer just outside the window. I lay for a while hoping this prat would be struck by lightning or washed away in a bizarre flash flood. Neither happened, so I groaned and rolled out of bed.
My skull had shrunk so that my brain was in imminent danger of being squeezed out of my ears, my teeth seemed to be covered in wool and my tongue was far too big for my mouth.”
Danielle Hawkins, Dinner at Rose's

“He really is a first-class waste of space, isn't he ?"
"Thank you" I said. It's nice when the people you love share your opinions.
"You're welcome," Dad said. "And the cartwheels would seem to imply that the new model's a good thing ?"
I looked at him with something close to shock. My father and I have a very satisfactory system in place, based on the unspoken agreement that I won't tell him about my love life and he won't ask. All that sort of carry-on is Mum's department, and she advises Dad on a need-to-know basis. "Um, yes," I said.
"Very good," said Dad and, clearly appalled at having strayed so far into this emotional minefield, he began to brush his teeth with most unnecessary vigour.”
Danielle Hawkins, Dinner at Rose's

“Aunty Rose's scones were small windowless buildings - if you could manage to worry one down it sat and sulked at the bottom of your stomach for hours, impervious to the processes of digestion. I giggled, and she said haughtily, "My scones are very nice."
"We could bury you with a batch," I suggested as we went slowly back down the hall. "And if archaeologists opened your grave thousands of years in the future they'd find them there, just as good as on the day they were cooked."
"Ill mannered wench," Aunty Rose said. She sank onto the edge of her bed and reached up to touch my cheek as he had Matt's. "I'm glad the pair of you finally sorted yourselves out."
I smiled at her. "You sorted us out, didn't you ?"
"I swore I wouldn't interfere, but I couldn't stand it any longer."
"Thank-you," I said soberly.
"You're welcome. Honestly, Josephine, for an intelligent girl you can be appallingly dim at times. Couldn't you have fluttered your eyelashes at the poor boy ?”
Danielle Hawkins, Dinner at Rose's

Topics Mentioning This Author

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