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

Author: Jenny Kane Page 1 of 104

Opening Lines: Christmas at the Castle

It’s time for the final instalment in the Opening Lines blogs for my Another Cup of…festive specials.

Today, I’m sharing the first 500 words from Christmas at the Castle.

Kit is off to Scotland!

BLURB

When hotshot businesswoman Alice Warren is asked to organise a literary festival at beautiful Crathes Castle in Scotland, her ‘work mode’ persona means she can’t say no – even though the person asking is her ex, Cameron Hunter.

Alice broke Cameron’s heart and feels she owes him one – but her best friend Charlie isn’t going to like it. Charlie – aka famous author Erin Spence – is happy to help Alice with the festival…until she finds out that Cameron’s involved! Charlie suffered a bad case of unrequited love for Cameron, and she can’t bear the thought of seeing him again.

Caught between her own insecurities and loyalty to her friend, Charlie gets fellow author Kit Lambert to take her place. Agreeing to leave her London comfort zone – and her favourite corner in Pickwicks Café – Kit steps in. She quickly finds herself not just helping out, but hosting a major literary event, while also trying to play fairy godmother – a task which quickly gets very complicated indeed…

Readers love Jenny Kane:
‘A wonderful short story to fill your heart with warmth and really put you in the mood for Christmas

‘A feel good festive read, with Jenny Kane’s trademark coffee, friendship and gentle humour’

‘This is the perfect book for curling up on the sofa with on a winter’s afternoon. Light-hearted and feel good fun’

FIRST 500 WORDS

Chapter One

Friday November 13th

Poking her head around the door of the Gift Shop Café, Charlie gave a sigh of relief. She’d managed to arrive before Alice for once.

Selecting their usual table by the window, Charlie smiled. Just for once it was nice not to have Alice, already comfortably settled and looking perfect, watching serenely as she battled her scarf, which always managed to knot itself clumsily, and her hair, blown every which way by the wind.

Hoping this was a good omen for the discussion to come, Charlie waved a greeting to the waitress, Mel.

‘Hi, Erin, Alice isn’t here yet.’ Mel put down a large coffee on Charlie’s table, ‘I’ll bring that weird latte concoction she likes over when she arrives.’

About half of the people in Banchory knew Charlie as Erin. Ever since she’d had her first book published under the name of Erin Spencer five years ago, the local papers had made a feature of her work, and Charlie lived happily with her dual personality.

As she watched the world go by through the window, Charlie’s usual habit of filtering future plotlines through the back of her mind was replaced with wondering how to persuade Alice that they needed more people to help organise Crathes Castle’s first ever literary festival. So far it was just the two of them, and they were drowning in the number of tasks involved with making it a success rather than an embarrassing flop.

Charlie hadn’t finished rehearsing her pleas for more helpers in her head, when Alice arrived.

Waving to Mel that she needed a drink fast (the concoction that Charlie always thought of as pseudo-coffee, which consisted of a decaf coffee, soya milk, and low-sugar caramel latte syrup), Alice sat down regally and swung her long, slim, tight black denim-covered legs elegantly under the table, before pushing her designer glasses off her eyes and up into her hair, neatly pinning it away from her face. If Charlie had tried to do that without the aid of a mirror she knew there would have been tufts of her long bouncy red ringlets sticking out at all angles.

A businesswoman through and through, Alice got straight to the point. ‘Charlie, sweetie, I know you don’t like working with other people much, but if we don’t get some more help soon this festival is going to be the biggest disaster of my career.’ Without giving her stunned friend time to comment, Alice went on, ‘It’s November 13th already. Our Christmas in the Castle Literary Festival is in exactly three weeks and we need another person to help us.’

Charlie was taken aback. Even when they’d been at university together Alice had been an expert at eliciting assistance from people without them even realising that she was getting them to do what she wanted. Never before had Charlie heard her admit she needed help. Studying her friend more carefully, Charlie noticed that there were dark shadows under Alice’s eyes, hinting that…

If you’d like to see what happens next, then you can buy Christmas at the Castle from all good e-retailers or you can find it in the Jenny Kane’s Christmas Collection.

mybook.to/ChristmasinCastle

mybook.to/JKChrisCollection

Happy reading everyone.

Jenny xx

 

Opening Lines: Christmas in the Cotswolds

I’m continuing my Opening Lines series, with a peep at the first pages of Christmas in the Cotswolds – the second festive special in the Another Cup of… series.

Blurb

Izzie Spencer-Harris, owner of the Cotswold Art and Craft Centre, is due to host the prestigious Cotswold Choir’s annual Christmas carol concert in her beautiful converted church. Or at least she was, until a storm smashed a hole right through the chancel roof!

Days from Christmas, Izzie suddenly finds herself up to her neck in DIY, with her last dodgy workman having walked off the job. She does the only thing she can… calls in her best friend Megan to help.

Leaving Peggy and Scott to run Pickwicks Café in her absence, Megan heads to the Cotswolds for Christmas. Within minutes of her arrival, she finds herself hunting down anyone willing to take on extra work so close to Christmas. It seems the only person available to help is Joseph Parker – a carpenter who, while admittedly gorgeous, seems to have ulterior motives for everything he does…

With Izzie’s bossy mother, Lady Spencer-Harris, causing her problems at every turn, an accident at work causing yet more delays, and the date for the concert drawing ever nearer, it’s going to take a lot more than Mrs Vickers’ powerful mulled wine to make sure everything is all right on the night…

Readers love Jenny Kane:
‘This is a delightful short story with that lovely Christmas feel good feeling

‘An easy festive read that will make you smile

‘Very festive short story with lovely characters. . . Cosy, ideal reading for Christmas time’

‘Perfect for the Christmas season. Heartwarming, emotional and so true for today’s hectic, manic life. One to have, keep, and enjoy!!

FIRST 500 WORDS

Prologue

December 12th

Izzie closed her eyes and counted to ten as the door of the Cotswold Arts Centre slammed shut.

There was no point in panicking. She simply didn’t have time for such luxuries if her converted church was going to be ready to host a Christmas carol concert by the renowned Cotswold Choir in nine days’ time.

Bored of being propositioned by men who weren’t remotely interested in her until they discovered she was a daughter of the gentry, Izzie had ejected the carpenter through her front door before he’d quite had time to work out just how insulting her rejection of his latest lurid suggestion was.

Now, her hasty tongue having deprived her of a desperately needed pair of tradesman’s hands, Izzie sat with a heavy thump onto the nearest pew. She knew she had to find fresh help, and fast. A task that wouldn’t be easy so close to Christmas.

‘Although,’ Izzie addressed the image of Noah, who smiled benevolently at her from his stained-glass window, as if grateful he hadn’t been smashed to pieces by the tree branch that had come through the top of the chancel and caused so much seasonal inconvenience, ‘I’m damn sure I’m not asking my mother to help out ever again!’

Reaching for the offending package of invitations that had arrived by courier first thing that morning, Izzie emptied it onto the table. The invitations were supposed to have been posted by now. As soon as she’d seen them, Izzie understood why her mother had left them to the last minute.

Unfussy, cost-effective, and with a medieval Christmas flavour in keeping with the spirit of the converted fourteenth-century church where the concert was to be held. That’s what she’d asked for. What she’d got was decadent Victorian-style gold-edged invitations which weighed so much, Izzie was sure that posting them alone would break the bank. And if that wasn’t bad enough, her mother had done the one thing that she had expressively forbidden. She’d put Izzie’s full name on the invitations.

Lady Perdita Spencer-Harris had been unable to comprehend why her daughter didn’t want to use the family name to help sales. She simply didn’t understand that Izzie wanted people to come to hear the choir for its own sake, or because they wanted to see what she’d done in her art centre; not because she was a young and single female member of the landed gentry.

Miss Isadora Spencer-Harris

cordially invites you to a magical festive evening at

The Cotswold Arts Centre, Chipping Swinton

to hear the renowned Cotswold Choir’s Christmas Carol Concert

Saturday 21st December

7 p.m. for 7.30 p.m. start

£25 per ticket

Refreshments provided

RSVP by 18th December to Harris Park

Wrapping her stripy woollen scarf more tightly around her neck, Izzie breathed warm air over her cold fingers. Deciding it wasn’t cost effective to heat the church this late at night just for her, she gathered up the invitations, and with one last check that the…

If you’d like to find out what happens next, then Christmas in the Cotswolds is available from all good e-retailers as well as in the Jenny Kane Christmas Collection on Amazon.

mybook.to/ChristmasinCotswolds

mybook.to/JKChrisCollection

Many thanks for popping by today,

See you next time for 500 words from Christmas at the Castle.

Happy reading, 

Jenny xx

Opening Lines: Another Cup of Christmas

It’s that time again!

With the festive season almost upon us, let’s take a dip into my ‘Another Cup of….’ festive novellas.

I’m starting with the first 500 words from Another Cup of Christmas.

Blurb

Five years ago the staff of Pickwicks Cafe in Richmond were thrown into turmoil when their cook and part-owner, Scott, had a terrible accident. With help from his friends, his wife Peggy, and the staff at the local hospital, he made an amazing recovery. Now Pickwicks is preparing to host a special Christmas fundraiser for the hospital department that looked after Scott.

Pickwicks’ waitress Megan has been liaising with the ward’s administrator, Nick, as all the staff who helped Scott’s recovery are invited. As the problems of organising the fundraiser take up more and more of their busy lives, Megan and Nick contact each other more frequently, and their emails and phone calls start to develop from the practical into the flirty.

But can you actually fall for someone you’ve never met?

As the fundraiser draws closer, Megan is beginning to think that she had imagined all the virtual flirting between herself and Nick – he promised to arrange to meet her for real, but he hasn’t done so. Now he’s bringing someone with him to the fundraiser, and they’re just bound to be everything Megan feels she isn’t …

Join the characters of Jenny Kane’s wonderful debut Another Cup of Coffee once again for a heart-warming festive read!

Readers love Jenny Kane:
‘A lovely heart-warming tale set at Christmas and a perfect short read for in front of a blazing fire and a cup of coffee (or hot chocolate!)’

‘A great read in the run up to Christmas, highly recommended

FIRST 500 WORDS

Chapter One

December 4th 2012

Having politely escaped her third ‘So what are you doing for Christmas?’ conversation of the day, Megan Johnson was retreating back to the counter when she spotted Pickwicks’ most regular customer sit up from her work and brush a stray red hair from her eyes.

    Knowing it had been at least half an hour since Kit’s caffeine addiction had been attended to, the waitress swiped up the percolator jug and headed in her direction.

    Without bothering to ask if it was required, Megan poured the steaming liquid with practised care, before taking advantage of the lull in Christmas shopping trade, and sitting down opposite her friend. ‘Going OK?’

    Swivelling the laptop round to face Megan, Kit rubbed the back of her neck, ‘I’m sure I’ve missed something. What do you think?’

Pickwicks Festive Fundraiser!

Spoil Yourself With An Afternoon of Pickwicks’ Finest Festive Fare.

In Aid of the Royal Free Hospital’s Spinal Ward.

Saturday 22nd December from 2pm.

Deluxe Buffet And Fundraising Fun!

Tickets are ONLY £25 per person

Don’t miss out!

Book your place at Pickwicks Coffee Shop, Richmond – NOW!!

    Megan scanned the poster. ‘Oh, that’s fabulous! I thought you were writing your latest novel.’

    ‘To tell you the truth, that’s exactly what I should be doing, but Peggy asked me to do some publicity for the fundraiser and I thought I’d better get on with it. Time seems to be dissolving. It’ll be the 22nd before we know it.’

    ‘I know what you mean.’ Megan started to collect the dishes left by a couple who’d just vacated a nearby table.  ‘The next three weeks are going to fly by.’

    ‘Two and a half weeks!’

    ‘Oh, hell! Really?’

    ‘That’s why I want to get these done; otherwise everyone will be too booked up with their own celebrations to have time to come.’ Gesturing towards the kitchen, Kit asked, ‘How’s Scott doing out there, or shouldn’t I ask?’

    Megan’s permanent smile widened further across her lightly freckled face. ‘He’s amazing. I have no idea how he does it. The temperature in that kitchen is tropical, and yet Scott’s still beaming that massive toothy grin of his. I’m seriously beginning to think he is physically unable to stop cooking! Surely he must have pre-prepared as much as he can for the fundraiser by now?’

     Kit nodded. ‘He probably has, but Peggy is getting paranoid there won’t be enough food.’ Glancing around, checking that Megan wasn’t needed by a customer for a moment, Kit pointed to a fresh pile of abandoned cups. ‘If I clear those, will you have a proper read of the poster? I’m sure I’ve missed something obvious but I can’t put my finger on it?’

    Kit was already standing up and taking a tray from Megan’s hands before the waitress said, ‘On one condition.’

    ‘Which is?’

    ‘I can check my emails? I’m supposed to be liaising with the hospital about this for Peggy, but we’ve been so busy over the last few days I…’

If you’d like to read on, Another Cup of Christmas, is available from all good e-book retailers, and as part of the Jenny Kane’s Christmas Collection.

mybook.to/AnotherCupofChristmas

mybook.to/JKChrisCollection

(You don’t need to have read Another Cup of Coffee to enjoy my festive stories.)

You can her me read a little from Another Cup of Christmas here- https://www.facebook.com/coffeetimesessions/videos/381433993174274

Come back next week, for the first 500 words from Christmas in the Cotswolds.

Happy reading,

Jenny xx

Opening Lines: Summer at Sea Glass Cove

With summer fast becoming a distant memory, I thought I’d try and warm everyone up a bit with a reminder of the #openinglines of my most recent novel:

Summer at Sea Glass Cove

Blurb

Welcome to Sea Glass Cove!

Marine archaeologist Lauren Sunshine is used to life on the go. Her suitcase is always packed ready to explore the country’s underwater heritage so when a shipwreck is found off the Dorset coast, she is thrilled to be leading the excavation team.

Philippa Silver, ‘Phil’ to the folk of Sea Glass Cove, has devoted her life to the Museum by the Sea. But funding is tight, and despite subletting half of the museum to her best friend Jules’s sea glass shop, she fears for the museum’s future.

Phil hopes the wreck discovery could bring more visitors, but there’s a problem – the museum’s too small to house its treasures. Thankfully, new friend Lauren seems as determined as she is to save the museum.

But, when Phil’s brother Ollie catches Lauren’s eye, she begins to wonder if she has more than one reason to be interested in life at Sea Glass Cove….

FIRST 500 WORDS:

As Lauren stepped through the low stone-framed doorway, the instant dip in temperature after the relentless heat of the midday June sun felt like balm against her tanned skin. Sliding her sunglasses up, so they secured her sea-soaked hair away from her eyes, she gave a small sigh of pleasure.

The shop was beautifully laid out. Shelves of various shapes and sizes lined the walls, each one carved out of driftwood. Upon these were displayed unique items of jewellery, all made out of sea glass. Every polished shard radiated its own aura of light which, as Lauren meandered between the shelves, she noticed changed colour depending on where she was standing.

Drawn to a large, teardrop-shaped pendant in the window, Lauren marvelled at its vivid sapphire glow. As she stepped closer the light changed, and it became an emerald green. Catching her breath, caught between the desire to discover if the glass was as smooth as she suspected, and knowing she ought not touch, she became conscious of a voice nagging at her.

Ships’ planks.

A frown puckered her forehead as her attention shifted from the pendant to a distinctive groove in the shelf upon which it was being displayed.

Tudor?

Instead of reaching out to feel the cool glass beneath her fingertips, Lauren gently caressed the bowed wood.

A nail once sat there – a long one – iron. It would have secured this plank to the next and…

Lauren focused her attention onto the eclectic shelf collection rather than the exquisite jewellery. That one’s more modern – from a warship – twentieth century. I wonder which…

‘It’s from the HMS Formidable – at least, that’s where I’ve always assumed it washed in from.’

As Lauren spun around, she found herself face to chest with a faded blue shirt. Stepping back so she could see the wearer properly, she saw a welcoming grin and a multi-coloured bandana that neatly trapped his shoulder-length greying hair.

‘You know these are ships’ planks then?’

‘From local wrecks to be exact.’ He put out a hand for her to shake. ‘I’m Jules. Not often someone looks more closely at my shelving than my jewellery.’

‘I don’t often see ships’ planks used like this.’ The urge to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing using historical artefacts in this manner was stifled by the strength of his smile.

‘If I hadn’t picked them up, they’d only have been washed out again, or worse – someone would have used them for firewood. Anyway, they’re in keeping with the theme of the shop.’

‘Jewellery?’ Lauren’s eyes strayed back to the pendant. It had developed a lighter, more peppermint sheen.

‘More using nature’s bounty – well, the sea’s bounty to be specific. These are all made from sea glass. And over there—’ Jules gestured to the back of the shop ‘—I have a few sculptures made from driftwood, along with some more useful stuff – coasters, doorstops, door handles and such like – all carved from driftwood.’

Turning to follow his…

If that has tickled your reading tastebuds, then you can buy your copy of Summer at Sea Glass Cove from all good retailers, including:

Amazon UK and Amazon US.

Happy reading!

Jenny x

Tiny Taster: Frost Falls at 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

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!!

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

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 NookKobo, 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

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

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 

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