Jenny Kane & Jennifer Ash

Jenny Kane: Coffee, cupcakes, chocolate and contemporary fiction / Jennifer Ash: Medieval crime with hints of Ellis Peters and Robin Hood

Tiny Taster: Frost Falls at The Potting Shed

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On November 5, 2024

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, Fiction, Jenny Kane, Romance, The Potting Shed

This week I’m sharing a ‘Tiny Taster’ of the first book in #thepottingshed #series:

 Frost Falls at The Potting Shed 

Frost Falls at The Potting Shed

Blurb

It has always been Maddie Willand’s dream to take over her father’s plant nursery. But after his sudden death, she is devastated to discover that she might lose The Potting Shed forever.

Maddie’s bossy older sister, Sabi, is joint owner of the nursery, and she’s convinced that the best thing for both of them would be to sell up.

Determined to keep the business going, Maddie can’t afford any distractions, but staying focused might be harder than she thinks. Especially when a major garden centre chain puts in an offer for the land – and her search for legal advice throws her into the path of attractive lawyer Ed…

As frost begins to fall over The Potting Shed, will Maddie find the strength to save her father’s legacy and open herself up to new beginnings?

Here’s a tiny taster from Frost Falls …

‘That’s settled then.’ Tony smiled as his younger daughter poured a fountain of tea into a row of mismatched china cups. ‘You’ll get the house and nursery Maddie, and Sabi, you’ll inherit your mum’s antique furniture and a portion of the profits from this place.’

Lifting their teacups as one, the Willand family clinked them together.

‘How about a custard cream to seal the deal?’ Maddie waved the regularly refilled biscuit tin towards her father. ‘One or two?’

‘Three.’ Tony laughed as he took a handful of biscuits before passing the tin on to his son-in-law. ‘Grab plenty Henry, or the girls will demolish the lot. I learnt that lesson a long time ago. I once witnessed them consume a packet of chocolate chip cookies in less than two minutes.’

‘A slight exaggeration.’ Maddie grinned at her brother-in-law. ‘We were helping clear The Potting Shed’s far polytunnel. Dad needed it done that day, I can’t remember why now, but there was no time for a lunch break and biscuits were the easiest option.’

‘And we were famished.’ Sabi put her palm up, refusing the offer of a biscuit as the tin continued around the table. ‘Are you sure you want to inherit all that hard work, Mads? I can’t help thinking I got the better deal with Mum’s furniture.’

‘Only because you’ve gone off gardening. Anyway, Mum’s things will look fabulous in your house.’ Maddie gave her sister a hug. ‘I can’t wait to help Dad upgrade The Potting Shed from a nursery to a garden centre.’

‘And I’m delighted to think the place will continue to flourish – or should I say blossom – long after I’ve gone.’ Tony’s habitual smile faded as he stared into his tea. ‘I can’t say discussing changes to my will is a fun way to spend a late Sunday afternoon, but once it’s done we can forget all about it and get on with living.’

‘When do you intend to start upgrading this place?’ Henry flicked through a pile of scrap paper and old envelopes on which Tony and Maddie had scribbled their plans for changing their business – which currently provided seedlings, vegetables, potted bulbs, flowers and herbs to the local shopkeepers and hotels, as well as, at weekends, the general public – into a small garden centre.

‘As soon as possible.’ Tony refilled his teacup. ‘It will take time to build up of course. But, if we are careful not to neglect our current customers, while expanding our range for sale on site, then I know we can do it. Might even have a café eventually.’

‘Sounds fabulous.’ Henry fished another biscuit from the tin.

Quiet for a moment, Tony turned to his daughters. ‘You are both completely sure you’re happy with these arrangements?’ …

You can buy this novel from Amazon UK, Amazon US, Kobo, Nook, Waterstones and all good retailers as an ebook, paperback or audiobook

Happy reading!

Jenny x

Opening Lines: Manuscript Mysteries at The Robin Hood

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On October 24, 2024

In Contemporary fiction, cosy crime, crime, Fiction, Jennifer Ash, Opening Lines Blog

Today I’m sharing the #openinglines to Manuscript Mysteries at The Robin Hood.

BLURB

A brand new cosy crime series! Welcome to the Robin Hood Club!

There’s great excitement when a previously undiscovered Robin Hood ballad manuscript, Robin Hood and the Carter, turns up in the same town as the Robin Hood Club’s latest fan convention.

But the Robin Hood Club’s special guest – Harriet, “Hari”, Danby, writer and creator of the hit TV series, Return to Sherwood – can’t help thinking the discovery is rather too coincidental.

With her best friend, Dot, at her side, Hari finds herself taken out of her quiet writing life and catapulted into a world of enthusiastic fans, actors egos, and jealous fellow authors.

As the Robin Hood Club event gets underway, speculation about the new ballad grows… and then Hari notices that one of the Robin Hood Club’s most devoted followers has gone missing…

Manuscript Mysteries at the Robin Hood Club

HERE ARE THE FIRST 500 WORDS

Prologue: April 28th

Found: Previously undiscovered Robin Hood Ballad…

Dr Harriet Danby, known to her friends as Hari, hovered her hand over the computer mouse. Telling herself that the notification on the Medieval Scholars Facebook page was bound to be spam, Hari clicked on the post anyway. Mentally crossing her fingers, hoping she hadn’t just unleashed a social media virus upon her laptop, Hari’s jaw dropped as she read the press release that filled her screen.

Two minutes later she picked up the telephone. The call had barely connected before, not bothering with a hello, she blurted out, ‘Neil, have you seen…’

‘Harriet! I was about to call you.’

Detecting an edge of excitement in her former university professor’s voice, Hari said, ‘You’ve seen the report then?’

‘I have.’

‘A new Robin Hood ballad!’

Neil cleared his throat, just managing to keep his enthusiasm in check. ‘It would be nice if it was genuine, but if it does turn out to be a hoax, it’ll still give us something new to talk about at the Robin Hood Club convention. You are coming, aren’t you?’

 

The emailed invitation sat open on Hari’s laptop.

The Robin Hood Club: 28th – 30th May.

Dear Dr Harriet Danby,

You are invited (along with a guest of your choice), to this three-day event at the beautiful Harmen Hotel, Buxton, within the stunning Peak District, Derbyshire.

As the writer and creator of the hit television series – Return to Sherwood – we’d be delighted if you could join us for this fans’ convention to celebrate your amazing show. We would love it if you would agree to be interviewed by myself, Jeremiah Barnes, about your work and passion for all things Robin Hood.

I can confirm that your leading lady – Scarlett Hann – and your leading man – Lee Stoneman – have already agreed to attend.

You’ll find a rough outline of the convention timetable attached to this message. A more detailed running order of events will be available nearer the time.

Please email your response at your earliest convenience.

Yours,

Jeremiah Barnes

Hari opened the attachment and took a ragged breath as she found herself face to face with an invitation to a medieval banquet on the Saturday evening and (worse) a disco on the Sunday evening and (worse still) an interview before all the guests as the “Headline Event” on the Monday.

Why do they want me as the featured speaker when the stars of the show will be there?

Averting her gaze from the laptop screen, she picked up a framed photograph of herself, Scarlett Hann and Lee Stoneman – known to millions as Mathilda of Sherwood and Will Scathlock. It had been taken during the filming of the first episode of Return to Sherwood.

‘I suppose if you two are attending, it would be odd if I wasn’t there.’ She focused her gaze on her leading man’s grey eyes. ‘And who knows, Lee, you might even acknowledge my existence as a human being this time.’

Returning to the laptop,…

If the opening lines have whetted your appetite, you can preorder your copy of the first #therobinhoodclub mysteries, here:

Amazon UK | Amazon US | Amazon CA | Amazon AU 

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x

Happy Birthday Misty Mornings at The Potting Shed!!

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On October 14, 2024

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, Jenny Kane, Opening Lines Blog, Romance, The Potting Shed

Misty Mornings at The Potting Shed is a year old!!

Following on from the adventures of Maddie, Ed, Sabi, Jo, Jem, Sara, and the team at The Potting Shed garden centre, Misty Mornings sees the arrival of some brand new characters, a new café, and a face from Ed’s past…

Blurb

Don’t miss out on this lovely book by #1 Kindle bestselling author Jenny Kane.

Welcome back to The Potting Shed! As Maddie and Sabi re-open the doors of their family-run garden centre. Business is booming, and it’s time to give back to the community that has kept The Potting Shed afloat, by opening the Forget-Me-Not dementia café.

But, as the doors to the café open, Sabi is offered the chance of a lifetime, that could take her away from The Potting Shed for weeks, café manager Jo’s frail, elderly mother is taken ill, and Maddie’s partner, Ed, takes a job in a faraway city just when Maddie needs him more than ever. A new member of staff is desperately required – who will join Sara, Jo and Ivan as the busy autumn season fast approaches?

Available from Amazon UK, Amazon US, Kobo, Nook and Waterstones as an ebook or paperback.

You can also buy an audiobook of this story: Amazon UK, Amazon US.

(Although Misty Mornings is the third book in this series, it can be enjoyed as a standalone read.)

Here is an extract from the story – welcome Belle, a new friend to The Potting Shed.

Belle swept a swathe of deep purple curls from her face and glared into the mirror that hung in the hallway of her little home.

Smudging some concealer under her eyes, she re-examined her complexion.

‘I don’t know why you’re trying to hide those spots, Mum.’ Niall bounded down the stairs, his long thin legs, out of proportion to his short body, as if only half of him was having a growth spurt at once. ‘They’ll go on their own soon – that’s what you tell me about mine.’

‘That’s because you’re a teenager. You’re supposed to have spots. I’m thirty-five! Spots just make me feel old.’

Niall stood next to his mum and stared into the mirror. ‘Your skin’s so dark, they’re hardly visible. Now, if you were white, it’d look like mini satellite dishes had landed on your face.’

‘Thank you for that vote of confidence – not!’ Belle couldn’t help but chuckle at her eldest son’s teasing expression.

‘I was being nice!’

‘By telling me that the spots on my chin, which I saw as annoying, but small, are actually huge.’

‘Why are you trying to hide them anyway?’

‘I’ve got an interview on Monday. I was practising looking nice.’ Belle wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m not sure anyone will hire me to work with food if I have three volcanos on my face!’

Niall gave his mum a hug. ‘You’ll ace it. Every café needs a woman with bright purple hair.’

‘Do you think I should wash out the dye?’ Belle tugged at her mass of curls. ‘Or I could dye it black, or…’

‘Mum! I was joking. It suits you. Just put on your best tie-dye dungarees and you’ll be perfect.’

‘I’ll be wearing a pair of trousers and a shirt and jacket.’

‘Boring.’

‘Sensible.’ Belle left out a pent-up breath. ‘I’m panicking aren’t I.’

‘Just a bit.’ Niall sat on the stairs and glanced up at his mum through a mess of black curls. ‘Are you okay? I mean, do you need this job or just want it?’

‘Both.’ Belle smiled, hoping her eldest child wouldn’t notice the worry that was always in her eyes these days.

‘If you get the job and have to be at work while we’re at home, me and Milo will be okay.’

‘Budge up.’ Belle perched onto the stair next to Niall. ‘It’s obvious that that’s what’s bothering me, huh?’

‘That you’re worried about Milo – or about not being there for him – yeah.’

‘I worry about you too.’ Belle put an arm around Niall’s shoulder.

‘I know.’

Always conscious of inadvertently laying more responsibility on her older child than she meant to, Belle thought of Milo. He’d always been more of a handful than his brother and had taken the defection of their father three years ago hard, whereas Niall had seen it as a sad inevitability.

‘If I get the job, I won’t be home until almost five every day.’

‘I know.’

‘But what if…’

Niall got up and looked down at his mum. ‘I’ll make sure Milo gets home from school and does his homework.’

‘But you shouldn’t have to. You have your own…’

‘I don’t mind, Mum. Honestly.’…

As with many of my novels, serious subjects are covered as the characters go along. From the challenges of having relatives with dementia, to the practical difficulties of long distance relationships, Maddie and the gang face every day head on – while being determined to give something back to the community that has supported them while The Potting Shed grew from a small nursery, to the much larger affair it has become.

Obviously, I don’t want to give away any spoilers here – but I can promise the dogs (Florrie and Sheba) will be as much fun at the end of the novel as they are at the beginning. As If I’d kill the dogs! (Readers do email me asking me not too!).

If you’ve not read Frost Falls at The Potting Shed and Bluebell Season at The Potting Shed, you can catch up on the friends previous dramas via eBook, audiobook or paperback from all good retailers.

I’m off to raise a birthday cuppa to the final story in my #thepottingshed #series!

Happy reading,

Jenny x

 

Opening Lines: Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange

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On October 1, 2024

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, Fiction, Jenny Kane, Mill Grange, News, Opening Lines Blog, Romance

As autumn is showing all the signs of being here to stay for a while, I thought I’d share the Opening Lines from Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange.

Blurb

At Mill Grange, the work – and the fun – never stops! As autumn brings coolness and colour, change is in the air for all at the manor…

Sam Philips’ time in the forces changed him forever. Supported by his friends, Sam is keen to help make beautiful Mill Grange a safe retreat for injured army personnel… but his crippling claustrophobia means Sam is living in a tent on the grounds! Enlisting the help of charming village stalwarts Bert and Mabel Hastings, Tina Martins is determined to find a way to help him conquer his fears. But why does she feel like he is keeping a secret?

After discovering evidence of a Roman fortlet on the manor’s grounds, Thea Thomas is thrilled at the chance to return to her archaeological roots and lead the excavation. She spent the summer with handsome celebrity archaeologist Shaun Cowlson – but now he’s off filming his Landscape Treasures show in Cornwall, and Thea can’t help but miss his company. Especially as someone else is vying for his attention…

Welcome back to Mill Grange and the beautiful village of Upwich, full of larger-than-life characters you can’t  help but adore.

(Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange follows on from Midsummer Dreams at Mill Grange, and is followed by Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange and Winter Fires at Mill Grange. It can also be read as a standalone novel.)

Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange

First 500 words

Prologue

September 1st

Rolling onto his side, Sam unfolded the letter he’d hidden inside his pillowcase. It was the third time he’d woken that night, and the third time he’d reached for the pale blue Basildon Bond envelope. He held it against his nose. The scent of his mother’s White Satin perfume was beginning to fade.

This was the fourth letter to arrive from Malvern House in the last month. One a week.

He had no idea how his mother had found out where he was living, nor why she wanted to see him after so long.

The letters, almost identical each time, said very little. Just that she and his father would love him to visit if he felt up to it. Sam groaned. ‘If he felt up to it’ was his mother’s way of asking if the debilitating claustrophobia he’d developed while serving in the forces had magically gone away.

As he slid the letter into its envelope, Sam’s gaze dropped from the tent’s canvas roof to Tina’s sleeping body.

The past was the past. He had a future now. He had no intention of looking back.

Chapter One

September 1st

‘Take pity on an old man, lass.’

Bert fluttered his grey eyelashes as he helped Tina carry a large cardboard box full of tea, coffee, milk and biscuits from her car into Mill Grange’s kitchen. ‘I love Mabel to pieces, but she is driving me mad.’

Tina laughed. ‘But it’s only been two months since the restoration project came to an end. Doesn’t Mabel have heaps of committee work to do? She runs every social club this side of Exmoor.’

As he placed the box on the oak table that dominated the manor’s kitchen, Bert’s eyes lost their usual optimistic shine. ‘Since Mill Grange was sold Mabel’s been so aimless. She led the volunteer restorers here for over five years and now that’s over…’

‘Mabel doesn’t mind Sam owning this place, does she?’

‘Not for a minute. For a little while it was all she could talk about. She’s that proud of your young man for buying the very thing that frightens him. For taking his fear of being inside by the scruff of the neck and buying a house to be enjoyed by other people.’

Tina put her box of groceries on the side and laid a hand on Bert’s shoulder. ‘I’ll talk to Sam. There must be something Mabel could do around here.’ She played with her pigtails as she thought. ‘I’m not sure we can afford to pay her yet though.’

‘You wouldn’t have to. Making her feel part of the team again is all I’m asking for.’ Bert’s smile returned to his eyes. ‘How’s it going here anyway? Sam getting into the house at all, or is he still overseeing things from that screen thing outside?’

‘He hasn’t been inside the manor since he bought it.’ Tina focused her attention on emptying the boxes of biscuits ready for Mill Grange’s first visitors, hiding her…

Available as an ebook from Nook, Kobo, as well as on Kindle and in paperback from Amazon UK and Amazon US and all good retailers.

 

Happy autumnal reading everyone,

Jenny xx

A Tiny Taster: A Cornish Wedding

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On September 10, 2024

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, Fiction, Jenny Kane, Opening Lines Blog, Romance

This week, I thought I’d share a ‘Tiny Taster’ from A Cornish Wedding 

Sequel to A Cornish Escape, this feel good romance returns you to the world of Abi, Max, Beth and Stan in sunny Sennen Cove.

(Previously published as Abi’ Neighbour)

Blurb

Perfect for fans of Cathy Bramley, Heidi Swain and Milly Johnson, A Cornish Wedding is the best kind of summer escape.

Abi has what she’s always dreamed of: her perfect Cornish cottage, great friends and a gorgeous boyfriend. But her idyll is shattered when a new neighbour moves in next door.

Rude and obnoxious, Cassandra doesn’t make a good first impression on Abi. But with the unexpected wedding of one of Abi’s friends to prepare for, Abi has bigger things to worry about.

However, avoiding her new neighbour proves harder than expected and Abi and Cassandra soon realise they might have more in common than they first thought. . .

But with the wedding only weeks away, can they set aside their differences before the big day?

Sennen Cove

Here’s a Tiny Taster…

Cassandra stared at the ‘For Sale’ sign in the front garden. A fresh slogan had been pasted proudly across it, proclaiming Another House Sold!

She frowned. The estate agents must have made a mistake. Justin had talked about renting the cottage, this poky little two-bed terrace in some Cornish backwater, but he’d never once suggested buying it.

Sitting on the low stone wall that ran in front of the row of cottages, with her back to the sold sign, she let out a string of vehemently whispered expletives. Resisting the temptation to throw a pebble at the seagulls which were squawking their hearts out on the roof behind her, she steadied her breathing, like she did when faced with a particularly demanding client.

Shrugging off her suit jacket in deference to the early summer sunshine that poured from a cloud-free sky, Cassandra tried to focus, but doubts continued to assail her. She hadn’t misunderstood Justin, had she?

They’d been laughing over the breakfast table at one of the most exclusive hotels in London when the subject of Cornwall had first come up. Making plans for their future life together, they’d celebrated in grand style the fact that Justin had, after six years of secret trysts and stolen nights together, decided to leave his wife; the dreadful Jacinta.

Excitedly they’d plotted and planned over plates of eggs Benedict and smoked salmon, raising their glasses of Buck’s Fizz to Justin’s promotion to senior partner at the law firm. A promotion which meant that, providing they merged their finances, Justin could afford to get a divorce without being catapulted into penury.

There was only one snag…

If you’d like to read A Cornish Wedding, you can buy it as a paperback or eBook from all good retailers, including

Universal link – mybook.to/CornishWedding

Happy reading everyone.

Jenny xx

Opening Lines with Carryl Church: The Forgotten Life of Connie Harris

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On September 5, 2024

In Blog, Fiction, Historical fiction, Opening Lines Blog, Romance, saga

This week I’m more than a little proud to be featuring the #openinglines from Carryl Church’s debut novel, The Forgotten Life of Connie Harris, on the day of its publication.

Over to you Carryl…

It’s an absolute honour to be featured on Jenny’s blog today! Ever since I first met Jenny through her wonderful writing courses, I’ve dreamed that one day, my debut novel would feature on Opening Lines. And here I am after many years of words, stubborn persistence and a few tears.

Blurb: The Forgotten Life of Connie Harris by Carryl Church

A woman who dared to dream beyond her circumstances and a legacy that refuses to fade away.

1951, Devon. Connie’s job at the Tivoli cinema provides an escape from her alcoholic father, Frank. There she meets and falls in love with projectionist Charlie. After a whirlwind romance, he splices his proposal into her favourite film, Casablanca, and for the first time, Connie dares to dream of a life beyond the one she’s settled for. Charlie promises her a happy ending, but for Connie, fate has a different plan.

  1. 1996. Seeking fulfilment after his divorce, Eddie takes on the now dilapidated Tivoli cinema. He finds an abandoned film reel with a note – I’m sorry – The film reveals the final frames of Casablanca, with a marriage proposal to someone called Connie Harris . . .

 ***

Opening Lines:

July 1951

The body was sprawled at his feet, as if it were nothing to do with him. He flexed his fingers, studying their tremor with mild curiosity. He’d experienced it before, the adrenaline that accompanies taking a life, but not like this.

He snaked one arm under the curve of her delicate spine, the other under her legs, stumbling against the banister as he lifted.

Outside, the street slumbered beneath an anthracite sky. He loaded his cargo into the van and returned to the house. The half-empty bottle of whisky was waiting on the stairs where he’d abandoned it. The burning liquid slid down his throat — an elixir to numb the guilt.

A dog’s bark ricocheted along the huddled terraces as he climbed into the van. He froze. No twitching curtains, no lights. Nobody cares.

With the crunch of gears, he pulled onto the road. The whisky bottle rolled across the front seat, then back as he rounded a bend.

Driving north away from Tiverton, houses gave way to vast emptiness, trees and bushes loomed out of the inky night. The road hugged the river, at the mercy of its bewildering contours. With each passing minute his thirst grew until it threatened to roar like the river beside him. The whisky bottle continued its game. Back and forth. Back and forth. Taunting him.

He pressed on, struggling to focus. The beam from his lights contorted like a kaleidoscope, menacing shadows subverted his vision. A deer skittered before his headlights. He swerved — the bottle fell to the floor with a thud.

At a field gate, he pulled in and cut the engine. Searching the floor for the bottle, he lifted it to his parched lips. The world stilled.

Dank air moistened his face as he stepped from the van. Nothing to see but barren moor, not a sound except for the rustle of trees and his own jagged breath.

He dragged his cargo from the back of the vehicle and launched it over the gate, then followed himself. He heaved the body onto his shoulder, as heavy and cumbersome as his kit bag.

The rough terrain disorientated every step. The ground swelled, then fell away without warning. They landed in a ditch, her body beneath his.

With earth-smeared fingers, he smoothed the hair from her brow.

Here in her shallow grave, the tears came.

He staggered away. The van choked to life. The whisky bottle rolled. The road wound on. He opened the window. Salt air whipped his cheeks.

His eyes grew heavy, the lids snapped shut.

He was flying, and then he wasn’t.

April 1951

Chapter 1

Connie leaned against her locker, re-reading Michael’s letter informing her he’d joined the Navy. She could sense her brother’s guilt through the thin, crisp paper. He’d abandoned her and now he was putting himself out of reach.

‘I can’t deal with him, Con,’ Michael had said to her at their mother’s wake when the few relatives who’d come to pick over the…

You can buy your copy of The Forgotten Life of Connie Harris (as an ebook or in paperback), from all good retailers, including: www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CXJ8MVYS/.

Bio:

Originally from the Isle of Wight, Carryl now lives in Devon with her family.

Although writing was always a dream, an early fascination with cinema, and in particular the films of Humphrey Bogart, led to a career as a Film and Photography Archivist. This background not only inspired The Forgotten Life of Connie Harris but continues to impact her other writing. Years spent watching archive footage gave her a unique insight into how people lived in the early 20th century now brought vividly to life in her stories.

Carryl has a BA in Media and Literature and an MA in Film and Television Archiving. After working in Media Archives for seventeen years, including The Imperial War Museum and The BBC, she now writes full-time in the company of her cat, Ditsy.

Links:

Website https://carrylchurch.co.uk/

Follow me on:

Twitter/X: https://X.com/CarrylChurch

Instagram: @carrylchurch

Facebook: @carrylchurchauthor

Many congratulations Carryl, thank you for sharing your opening lines with us.

Happy reding everyone,

Jenny x 

A Tiny Taster: A Cornish Escape

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On September 3, 2024

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, Fiction, Jenny Kane, News, Romance

While I madly try and meet my latest deadline, I thought I’d share a ‘Tiny Taster’ from

A Cornish Escape 

Blurb

Perfect for fans of Jenny Colgan, Phillipa Ashley and Cathy Bramley, this summer romance is sure to warm your heart.

Abi’s life is turned upside down when she is widowed before her thirtieth birthday. Determined to find something positive in the upheaval, Abi decides to make a fresh start somewhere new. With fond childhood memories of holidays in a Cornish cottage, could Cornwall be the place to start over?

With all her belongings in the boot of her car but no real plan, a chance meeting in a village pub brings new friends Beth and Max into her life. Max soon helps Abi track down the house of her dreams but things aren’t as simple as Abi hoped.

Can Abi leave her past behind and finally get her happy ending?

(Previously published as Abi’s House)

Here’s a ‘Tiny Taster’…

It was the muffins that had been the last straw. As Abi sat nursing a glass of wine, she thought back to the events of an hour earlier with an exasperated sigh.

Hurrying towards the church hall, Abi parked Luke’s unnecessarily large and ostentatious Porsche 4×4, and headed inside with a stack of Tupperware tubs in her arms. With her handbag slung over her shoulder and her key fob hanging from her teeth, Abi precariously balanced her load as she elbowed the hall door open.

Although she was twenty minutes early, Abi had still managed to be the last to arrive, earning her a silent ‘tut’ from some of the executive wives who were adding the finishing touches to the tables that surrounded three sides of the hall, and sympathetic grimaces from everyone else.

Acting as though she hadn’t noticed the air of disapproval, Abi made a beeline for the cake stall and plastered her best ‘this is for charity so be happy’ expression on her face. Polly Chester-Davies, an exquisitely dressed woman whom Abi always thought of as ‘Perfect Polly’, was adding doilies to plates, making the stall look as though it was stuck in a timewarp.

‘Ah, there you are, Mrs Carter, I’d given you up.’

Biting back the desire to tell Polly she’d been working, and was in fact early anyway, Abi began to unpack her wares, ‘Here you go, two dozen chocolate muffins without frosting, and two dozen with frosting, as requested.’

Polly said nothing, but her imperious stare moved rather pointedly from Abi’s face to the chocolate muffins already in position on the table, and back again.

Her disdainful expression made Abi mumble, ‘Are you expecting to sell lots of chocolate muffins today then?’

‘No, Mrs Carter, I am not. Which is precisely why you were instructed to make chococcino muffins.’

It had been that ‘instructed’ which did it. In that moment Abi felt an overwhelming hit of resentment for every one of the orders she had gracefully accepted from this Stepford harridan of the community.

For almost three years Abi had been doing what this woman asked of her, and never once had she said thank you, or commented on how nice Abi’s cooking was. Probably, Abi thought as she compared her own muffins with those provided by Perfect Polly herself, because mine don’t look like they could pull your fillings out. Nor had any reference ever been made to the fact that she would have to catch up on her own work in the evenings, after helping out with whichever good cause she’d been emotionally blackmailed into supporting this time. Not that Abi was against supporting a good cause, but this was different. These women didn’t raise funds for whichever charity was flavour of the month out of the goodness of their hearts. They did it because it was what they should be seen to be doing. It went hand in bespoke glove with being the wife of a successful man…

Available as a paperback or in eBook format, you can buy your copy of The Cornish Escape from all good book retailers, including

Amazon UK 

Amazon.com 

If you enjoy A Cornish Escape, Abi’s adventures continue in A Cornish Wedding.

Happy reading,

Jenny xx

Dreaming of outlaw justice…

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On August 27, 2024

In adventure, crime, Historical fiction, history, Jennifer Ash, medieval, The Folville Chronicles, thriller

Continuing the story of potter’s daughter, Mathilda of Twyford, Outlaw Justice, opens in winter 1331 – and a storm is coming in the shape of Sir Richard de Willoughby.

Outlaw Justice

Blurb

England, 1331: Corrupt official, Sir Richard de Willoughby, has been appointed Justice of the Peace, with powers to hunt – and kill – those who oppose him. First on his list? The notorious Coterel brothers and their associates – the Folvilles…

The Folvilles must decide whether to flee into outlawry or take the law into their own hands – but is killing de Willoughby really the answer?

Robert de Folville is keen to dispose of the justice, but Robert’s ingenious wife, Mathilda, has a plan… one that could potentially rid them of Willoughby and yet see them escape the hangman’s noose. But these are tumultuous times and Mathilda must first put herself at great personal risk. Could the tale of a missing noblewoman, overheard by chance, be the key to solving a problem of life or death?

A gripping tale of real-life Robin Hoods, Outlaw Justice is the latest in the critically acclaimed ‘The Folville Chronicles’ series by Jennifer Ash.

Outlaw Justice

Ever since she first came to the attention of the Folville family – as a kidnap victim – Mathilda of Twyford – has been learning that justice for the people of England comes at a high price. Often, it is those who purport to uphold the law, that break it the most…

Prologue

30th November 1331

‘Lady Isabel is safe, my Lord?’

‘I’ve seen her escorted to her mother in Lincolnshire by trusted friends. Her ravings these past few months have become intolerable. It’s not good for the children. I increasingly fear for her sanity.’

Keeping his countenance neutral, Bennett removed his master’s cloak. ‘May I be of assistance, my Lord? A drink after your journey perhaps?’

‘You may be of assistance by saying nothing of this to anyone. If King Edward were to hear of my wife’s shameful state, he might deem me unworthy of the office he so recently bestowed upon me.’

Bennett dipped his head respectfully and withdrew into the kitchen. He’d worked for Sir Richard de Willoughby long enough to know when to keep his mouth shut.

Damping down the kitchen fire for the night, absorbed in thought, the steward headed towards Lady Willoughby’s chamber. He’d seen no signs of mental instability. He’d heard no ravings. He had, however, heard a row between her and her husband earlier that day. The one and only time in her whole miserable marriage she’d stood up to her lord.

Pushing his mistress’s door open, Bennett surveyed the scene. Lady Isabel’s travelling cloak hung over the back of a chair by the window. Her hairbrush sat on her side table, and her riding boots waited patiently by the door.

A furrow formed on the steward’s forehead as he closed the chamber door, locking it securely behind him.

If you’d like to find out what happens next, Outlaw Justice it is available as both an ebook and paperback. It can be read as a standalone novel, or as part of #TheFolvilleChronicles

The Outlaw’s Ransom – mybook.to/theoutlawsransom

The Winter Outlaw- mybook.to/thewinteroutlaw

Edward’s Outlaw – mybook.to/EdwardsOutlaw

Outlaw Justice – mybook.to/OutlawJustice

Happy reading everyone,

Jennifer x

The Reluctant Investigator: Edward’s Outlaw

By

On August 20, 2024

In adventure, Blog, crime, Historical fiction, history, Jennifer Ash, medieval, The Folville Chronicles

In the first two novels of the series, The Outlaw’s Ransom and The Winter Outlaw, Mathilda of Twyford, found herself thrust into situations where she had to get to the bottom of a crime simply to stay alive. However, in book three, Edward’s Outlaw, Mathilda’s reputation for solving mysteries sees her being asked to solve a murder by the sheriff…and she is in no position to say no…

Blurb

January 1330: England is awash with corruption. King Edward III has finally claimed the crown from his scheming mother, Queen Isabella, and is determined to clean up his kingdom.

Encouraged by his new wife, Philippa of Hainault, and her special advisor ‑ a man who knows the noble felons of England very well ‑ King Edward sends word to Roger Wennesley of Leicestershire, with orders to arrest the notorious Folville brothers… including the newly married Robert de Folville.

Robert takes his wife, Mathilda, to Rockingham Castle for her own safety, but no sooner has he left than a maid is found murdered. The dead girl looks a lot like Mathilda. Was the maid really the target ‑ or is Mathilda’s life in danger?

Asked to investigate by the county sheriff in exchange for him slowing the hunt for her husband, Mathilda soon uncovers far more than murder… including a web of deception which trails from London, to Derbyshire, and beyond…

The third thrilling instalment in Jennifer Ash’s The Folville Chronicles series.

***

Mathilda has only been married to Robert de Folville for three days, and already trouble has coming knocking at door of their home; Ashby Folville manor, Leicestershire. A warrant for the brother’s arrest sends Mathilda alone into Rockingham Castle for her own safety. Under the protection of its constable, Robert de Vere, she shelters within the castle while her husband and his brothers are on the run.

Mathilda doesn’t have time to worry about Robert for long, for within only a few days a young girl is dead and the sheriff thrusts the role of detective upon her.

Why would anyone here believe her, even if she did find the killer? The word of a woman, even one who has married into one of the most notorious households in England, is not worth much without substantial evidence. And what if she gets it wrong and accuses the wrong person? Mathilda’s terrified that she might send the wrong person to the gallows.

The pressure on Mathilda to succeed becomes even greater when she begins to wonder if Agnes, the murdered maid, was the intended victim after all. The more Mathilda thinks about it, the more she sees how easy it would have been for the killer to mistake the dead girl for her…Was Mathilda the intended target after all?

 

Extract

… Blood hammered in Mathilda’s ears. She had tracked down killers in the past, but never by appointment. The first time had been unintentional, a task she’d stumbled upon to save her father’s honour and her freedom. The second had come with an even higher price tag. The cost of failure would have been her life.

Now, these previous successes had earned her a third attempt, and Mathilda doubted she was up to the task. In Ashby Folville she had Sarah and Adam to back her up, not to mention Robert and his brothers. Here, she was alone but for Daniel, who’d already had a myriad of household duties heaped upon him.

Would her desire to find justice for Agnes, and her equally strong curiosity to uncover what was going on in the castle, be enough to solve the crime. Or crimes?

Whatever her misgivings, Mathilda’s starting point was clear. The sheriff and his associates had not yet left the castle. She wanted to talk to each of them privately. The constable had promised her the freedom of the castle while he’d had little choice but to agree, but would he continue to extend that offer once Wennesley and his comrades had gone to recommence the search for her husband.

Not sure if she was heartened or worried by Sheriff Ingram’s claim that she was unstoppable in her pursuit of felons, Mathilda wiped away the perspiration from her palms.

As she walked towards de Vere’s rooms, Mathilda forced herself to focus. Even if the arresting party remained with the constable, that didn’t mean they would be willing to answer her questions. After all, they hadn’t been there when Agnes had died, yet Mathilda couldn’t shift the uneasy feeling that it was all connected somehow. She had no logical reason for that suspicion beyond the coincidence of Isabella’s abrupt reappearance and the night-time movements of a tall, short-haired man who could have been either of the younger men on the warrant party… or someone else entirely….

***

Edwards’ Outlaw can be read as a standalone book, or as part of The Folville Chronicles.

If you’d like to read Edward’s Outlaw, – or any of The Folville Chronicles, they are available in eBook format and paperback from all good reatilers, including…

The Outlaw’s Ransom – mybook.to/theoutlawsransom

The Winter Outlaw- mybook.to/thewinteroutlaw

Edward’s Outlaw – mybook.to/EdwardsOutlaw

Outlaw Justice – mybook.to/OutlawJustice

Happy reading,

Jennifer xx

Meet The Winter Outlaw

By

On August 13, 2024

In Blog, crime, Fiction, Historical fiction, Jennifer Ash, medieval, News, Romance

This week, I thought I’d share a little something  from one of my #medieval #crime novels:

The Folville Chronicles, Book Two –  The Winter Outlaw .

Blurb

1329:  It is the dead of winter. The notorious Folville brothers are on edge. There are rumours of an unknown outlaw terrorising the Leicestershire countryside—a man who has designs on the Folville family’s criminal connections.

Determined to stop this usurper in his tracks, Robert Folville unearths a man hiding in one of Ashby-Folville’s sheep shelters. A steward from far-off West Markham in Nottinghamshire, the cold, hungry Adam Calvin claims he knows nothing of any threat to the Folville family. He has troubles of his own, for he is being pursued by vengeful sheriff, Edmund de Cressy, for a crime he did not commit.

Mathilda of Twyford, newly betrothed to Robert de Folville, believes Adam’s story, but with rumours about a vendetta against the family growing, the Folville brothers are suspicious of every stranger.

***

Here’s the prologue to whet your appetite…

Prologue: Winter 1329

Adam Calvin’s vision blurred as his eyes streamed in the cold. His breath came in wheezing puffs. He needed to rest, but he daren’t. Not yet.

It was only as the vague outline of a cluster of homes and workshops came into view in the distance that he realised where his legs had been taking him. Slowing his pace, but not stopping, Adam risked a glance over his shoulder. He’d expected to see dogs, horses and men chasing him, but there was nothing. No one.

Scanning the scene ahead, making sure he wasn’t running into trouble as well as away from it, Adam exhaled heavily and aimed for a building he hoped was still standing.

The last time he’d visited the tiny village of Walesby there had been an old grain store on its outskirts. Built too close to the point where the frequently flooding Rivers Maun and Meden merged, the grain store had paid the price of a poor location. Long since abandoned in favour of a superior bake house, it was a perfect temporary hiding place for a man on the run.

Adam had no breath left with which to sigh for relief when he saw the neglected grain store. Uttering a prayer of thanks to Our Lady for the fact the building hadn’t been pulled down, he lifted the worn latch. He eased his way into the damp space, which was stuffed with rotting sacks containing all manner of rubbish.

Scrabbling awkwardly over the first few rows of musty sacks, Adam made himself a man-sized gap at the back of the room. Sinking down as far as he could, hoping both the sacks and the dark would shield him long enough for his cramped limbs to rest, he did his best to ignore the putrid stench and allowed his mind to catch up on events.

Only a few hours ago everything in Adam’s life had been as it should be.

He’d been fast asleep in his cot in the small private room his status as steward to Lord John de Markham gave him.

Had given him.

Adam wasn’t sure what time it had been when he’d been shaken to his senses from sleep by Ulric, the kitchen boy. He suspected it hadn’t been much more than an hour after he’d bedded down for the night.

Ulric, who’d frantically reported that a hue and cry had been called to capture Adam, had urged his master to move quickly. The sheriff had unexpectedly arrived and there had been a brief meeting between him, the Lord Markham and one other unknown man. An anxious Ulric had said that rumours were flying around like snowflakes in the wind.

Some of the household staff were saying Adam had stolen something, some that there had been a death; a murder.

Either way, for his own safety, Steward Calvin had to leave. Fast.

Confused, scared and angry that his good name was being questioned; without having time to find out what was going on or defend himself, Adam had grabbed his scrip. Pulling on his boots and cloak, with Ulric’s help he’d headed through the manor via the servants’ walkways.

The only item Adam hadn’t been able to find to take with him was his knife. Contenting himself with lifting one from Cook’s precious supplies as he ran through the kitchen, he’d left the manor that had been his home for the past twenty years.

With a fleeting nod of gratitude to his young helper, Adam had fled into the frosty night. Only minutes later he’d heard the calls of the hue and cry; echoes of the posse’s footfalls thudding against the hard, icy earth.

Now, wiping tears of exhaustion away with the back of his hand, Adam strained his ears through the winter air. All he could hear was the busy work of the mice or rats who were taking as much advantage of the building as he was.

Glad of the water pouch Ulric had stuffed in his scrip, Adam took a tiny sip. He didn’t know how long it would have to last him. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the sacks that boxed him in and tried to think.

Had he outstripped the hue and cry? If they were nearby, taking the chance to rest while waiting for him to run again, then Adam was sure he’d have heard something ‑ but there were no muttered voices, no horses panting and no hounds barking at his scent.

Adam managed to get his breathing under control. He’d been part of the hue and cry on occasions himself, and he knew such groups didn’t tend to chase their quarry far, or for long. Especially not on a cold winter’s night, when they could be tucked up in bed before the demands of the next working day.

With growing confidence that he’d chosen his bolthole well, Adam allowed himself to relax a fraction. Few people lived in Walesby since the most recent of many destructive floods, and its location meant he was only a few steps from the edge of Sherwood Forest. A desperate man could easily disappear into the woodland’s depths.

As the hours ticked on, Adam became convinced that the pursuit had stopped. However, he knew that by the morning the hue and cry would be replaced with soldiers if the sheriff barked the order. His bolthole wouldn’t stay safe for long.

Yet that wasn’t what concerned Adam the most. He wanted to know what he was supposed to have done that warranted his midnight flight. How could he even begin to go about clearing his name if he didn’t know what he was accused of?

In the meantime, where was he going to go?

***

Ever since I did my PhD (on medieval crime and its portrayal in the ballad literature of the fourteenth century), I have wanted to use what I learnt to tell a series of stories. Although I’ve written all sorts of things between 1999, when my PhD finished, and now – I still wasn’t sure it would ever happen.  Yet, here I am, with the complete series of The Folville Chronicles available for you to enjoy. They were so much fun to write.

 

You can buy The Winter Outlaw from Amazon and all good book retailers-

UK: http://ow.ly/RsKq30j0jev 
US: http://ow.ly/EvyF30j0jfk  

Happy reading,

Jen xx

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