AUTHOR Lauren Price always had her nose in a book and wrote short stories from an early age.
In her teens she began posting her work online and gained a huge following.
Aged just 19, she has just published her first novel, A Bad Boy Stole My Bra, a young adult romance full of heartwarming moments, which is out now from Ink Road.
IN a string of annual holidays dating back to my childhood, my family has always been more drawn to the paradise resorts.
The big white hotels a stone’s throw from the beach, studded with candy-coloured parasols and palm trees.
Time disappears with every fruity cocktail, turn on the sun lounger and dip in the pool, and too quickly you’re returning home resembling one of those plump, pink shrimps you ate for an appetiser one night.
It’s relaxing and just what you deserve after an unrelenting year.
And yet, on reflection, every one of those holidays seems to blend together into one vanilla set of memories.
My favourite holiday was very different from my typical paradise resort. I arrived in Prague, and no humidity enveloped me when I exited the plane.
I arrived in a bewitching city with a silver sky and dark waters. Cold air bit my face and I felt wide awake.
Wherever I stood, I was in the centre of a juxtaposition between old and new.
On one side, I stared up at the gothic architecture of Old Town and watched a Victorian fairytale unfold in the shadow of Tyn Church.
On the other side danced a mass of bright billboard lights, bustling shoppers and erratic transport in the centre of Wenceslas Square.
Prague could have been two cities enmeshed together.
Fourteenth-century statues loomed on my left and David Cerny’s pieces romped on my right. It was a beautiful kind of chaos.
By night, it was a city of fairy lights and quaint boutique restaurants. We found The Hemingway Bar, a sanctuary of rum and books.
We sipped on luxury mixology and experienced the author’s life in an irreplicable manner, alcohol warming our spirits and stomachs.
Holding hands with my boyfriend along Charles Bridge, I ate my Trdelník chimney cake. At that moment, there wasn’t anywhere I’d rather be.
As sweet and comfortable as those vanilla memories can taste, I would recommend indulging in a rich rum and raisin every now and again.
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