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

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Medieval Christmas Thinking

As I’m laid up and not able to write much at the moment, I thought I’d cheat with this year’s Christmas blog, and share one I’ve done before…

Medieval festive traditions.

I’ve been a lover of all things medieval from the first time I clapped eyes on an episode of Robin of Sherwood back in the 1980’s. Since then, I’ve had a fascination with the era- especially the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries- that has never waned. It was this interest that led me to write The Folville ChroniclesThe Outlaw’s Ransom, The Winter Outlaw, Edward’s Outlaw and Outlaw Justice.

The Winter Outlaw, Edward’s Outlaw and Outlaw Justice are all set at Christmas time – so I got to thinking about how many of the festive traditions we have today hail from those medieval days.

Did you know…?

… that the practice of carol singers going from door to door was the result of carollers being banned from the churches.

During the medieval period the word “carol” didn’t refer to just a song, but to singing and dancing in a circle. This was frowned upon by the churchmen of the age as it detracted from the seriousness of the occasion. Carol singers were ordered out onto the streets, and often sang in market places, or in front of rows of houses.

Another church related tradition that had its origins in medieval times is the Christmas crib or Nativity scene. In medieval Italy, in1223, Saint Francis of Assisi used a crib as a teaching tool to explain the Christmas story to the local population. Historians believe that this was the first time animals, such as the sheep and the donkey, were added to the Christmas story, even though the Bible does not mention them.

What about Christmas food? Christmas puddings date from medieval England, although they were rather different than those we eat today. Made from a spicy porridge known as frumenty, with currants and dried fruit stirred into it, along with egg yolks, cinnamon and nutmeg, it was a considerably runnier pudding than the one we’re used to.

The majority of Christmas dinners in the UK this year will feature a roast turkey. However, turkeys didn’t reach Britain until the late fifteenth century. In medieval times the rich ate goose, while the poorer families would roast a woodcock if they could get one. Those lord’s who had royal permission to eat venison, would have deer for their Christmas meal. Traditionally, the heart, liver, tongue, feet, ears and brains of the deer (a concoction known as the umbles), would be mixed together and made into a pie to give to the poor. This treat became known as humble pie.

And how about some entertainment? Whereas today we might go to see our children in a nativity play at Christmas, in the Middle Ages people could look forward to seeing the Mummers. These travelling actors performed plays and dances in villages, manors, and castles. During the winter, mystery plays were traditionally based on the story of Christ’s birth. The part of King Herod within these plays was the first role that can be seen as being the equivalent of a ‘baddie’ in a modern day pantomime, with the crowd often booing when he came on stage.

I hope these few Christmas blasts from the past have made you smile!

Happy reading everyone. 

Thank you for all your support this year. Have a very Happy Christmas.

Jenny xx

Opening Lines: Lock, Stock and Harold by Ebberly Finch

Today, I’m delighted to introduce you to author, Ebberley Finch, and the #openinglines of her #debutnovel:

Lock, Stock and Harold.

Over to you, Ebberly…

It’s hard to believe I have even reached this point – Ebberley Finch is a published author with a blog spot on the fabulous Jenny Kane’s site. If this is something you are working towards, my advice is ‘stick at it’ the reward of actually publishing your debut novel is a thrill like no other.

The fun bits for me have been the writing, the editing and yes, even the marketing. The nightmare bits have been navigating the IT proficiency required, but with a little help from my friends and narrowly avoiding a divorce from my IT competent dearly beloved I got there.

The support and encouragement from people I hardly know has been a revelation and almost makes up for the 4 million hours I have spent getting this far. This evening I received a hand-written letter through my front door from someone I hardly know congratulating me on my achievement – how amazing! It certainly brought a tear to my eye — it was refreshing to have a tear of joy after all those hours swearing at my computer J.

So, what’s the book all about you ask? Well writing blurb is a whole new mystic art I haven’t even touched on. Who knew there were so many untold skills to learn at my advanced age? Here’s the version which superseded a host of discarded ones. I hope it does the book justice.

BLURB:

When you decide to change your life, expect the unexpected.  

After a crushing break-up, Noah Wood ends up with no home, no job and no direction. With a wish-list in mind, he moves to the beautiful North Devon coast, hoping to rebuild his shattered confidence.

Inspired by his uncle, he buys an abandoned pet shop ‘Lock, Stock and Barrel’, only to find an unexpected item in the bagging area – a parrot called Harold.

Beginning to recognise how his past has shaped him, when the chance to find love and overcome his anxiety presents itself, Noah grasps the opportunity. But just as he dares to relax, disaster strikes.

Noah must salvage a life that’s been turned upside down if he is to have any chance of finding lasting happiness.

First 500 words of Lock, Stock and Harold:

Noah peered up and down the street searching for a landmark he recognised. The rest of the world were striding confidently towards their destinations. If they could do this, why couldn’t he? He reached for his phone and the security of Google maps, a tight band squeezing his chest. Perhaps everything would become clear at the corner? He slipped the phone back into his pocket and continued walking, but without conviction.

A small well-worn backpack contained the reason he had come to this part of town. Fresh lemongrass and curry leaves, galangal and rice paper wraps. When Daisy found out he was cooking spring rolls and kari ayam curry on Saturday, her face was sure to light up. Something he didn’t see very often these days.

He had been to this part of Slough a couple of times before and on reaching the corner, he scanned all directions for something to spark a memory. A rush hour street full of ethnic supermarkets, tattoo parlours and barber shops met his searching gaze. Buses and vans squeezed past cars parked on either side of the road, adding to the chaos of the scene. He had no idea which direction to take. Defeated, he pulled out his phone, keyed in the address of his flat and sloped back down the street he had just walked up. A cloud of inadequacy tailing him all the way home.

He climbed the stairwell of his apartment block, all towering magnolia and musty odour. Reaching the fourth floor, he glanced out over Slough’s urban sprawl, where heaving traffic emitted a steady rumble. How different would life feel if he lived somewhere with open space and the sound of the sea? Surely he wasn’t the only person unhappy to be sitting like a battery hen at his computer, laying golden eggs with the press of an ‘enter’ key and receiving crumbs of salary in return?

Giving himself a shake, Noah unlocked the door to his flat, pausing on the threshold. Thursday was Daisy’s tennis club evening and he didn’t expect her to be at home, but the place felt so bleak and hollow he couldn’t help calling out.

‘Hello, are you there?’ His words echoed into an empty space.

The living room could have been photographed for a magazine. This was Daisy’s preferred look, even though it was his flat. Swinging the backpack off his shoulder, he poked his head into the kitchen. Every surface gleamed. Not so much as a crumb on the toaster. It hadn’t been like this when he left for work in the morning.

Had his girlfriend been in one of her ‘I’m spring cleaning because you’ve done something wrong’ moods? A chill ran down his spine and he slowed his steps. A piece of lined paper torn roughly out of a pad lay next to the kettle. It was out of keeping in the pristine kitchen. Daisy’s looping script filled the page. He prodded it with a finger. As it moved the words…

You can buy Lock, Stock and Harold from Amazon via this link: Lock, Stock and Harold: When you decide to change your life, expect the unexpected : Finch, Ebberley: Amazon.co.uk: Books

Bio

Ebberley Finch, worked in the corporate world for many years, both in the UK and abroad. Leaping into a radical career change, she relocated to Devon to run a B&B and holiday cottage business six years ago. Once that new business was up and running Ebberley finally had the time to write.

Having started anew several times herself, she enjoys exploring new beginnings and the friendships, rewards and challenges that come with them. This theme runs through all her novels so far. Lock, Stock and Harold is her debut novel. Her second novel will be published in Spring 2025.

LINKS:

Website:  www.ebberleyfinch.com

Facebook: @ebberleyfinch

Instagram: @ebberleyfinchauthor

It’s always an honour to share some opening lines with you. Today. however, it’s a particularly special treat as Ebberly is a former member of my #novelinayear, group. Right now, I’m an extremely proud tutor! 

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x

 

Happy 2nd Birthday: Winter Fires at Mill Grange

Winter Fires at Mill Grange

is 2 year’s old !!

Following the seasonal pattern set by the first three novels in the series – Midsummer Dreams at Mill Grange, Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange and Spring Blossoms at Mill GrangeWinter Fires takes the Victorian manor house regulars, Thea, Shaun, Tina, Shaun, Tom, Helen, Bert and Mabel, through December, and on to the run up to Christmas.

Winter Fires at Mill Grange

Blurb

Mill Grange is putting on a show this holiday season!

When young Dylan Harris’s former babysitter, Harriet, needs a last minute venue for her acting troupe’s outdoor production of Shakespeare’s A Winter’s Tale, the staff at Mill Grange throw its doors open…but they may get more drama than they’d bargained for!

With a play to arrange, an unexpected arrival adds to the drama. It soon looks as if a miracle will be needed to make sure this Christmas is one that Thea, Tina, Sam, Shaun, Helen and Tom – along with retirees Bert and Mabel Hastings,– won’t forget…

Prologue – Tuesday November 30th

‘You are joking – aren’t you?’

Harriet wasn’t sure why she asked the question. Jason wasn’t known for his sense of humour.

As their leading man slammed his mobile phone against the table, she glanced around the assembled members of The Outdoor Players. Only moments ago they’d been happily nursing their pints of beer or glasses of wine, chatting excitedly about the opening night of their winter show. Now the temperature in the room, despite the blazing log fire, plummeted to an almost arctic freeze.

Peeping at Rob through her curtain of hair, Harriet watched him suck at his bottom lip, hiding all but one of his brilliant white teeth.

‘But the show is…’

‘I know perfectly well when the show is, thank you, Rob!’ Jason snapped. ‘What do you expect me to do? Magic the flood away?’

Disappointment gripped Harriet. This was to have been her professional debut; an acting role beyond school or university productions. The first step towards her coveted Equity card. She had practised her lines three times a day for weeks. Now it looked as if she might not get to say them anytime soon – if at all.

Harriet was relieved when Matt, manager, director and producer of The Outdoor Players, knocked the base of his pint glass against the table, restoring order before panic took hold of the entire cast of The Winter’s Tale.

‘Let’s start from the beginning. The phone call you just took, Jason – I assume it was from your parents? Can you give us the full story please?’

Every member of the cast stared at Jason.

‘In a nutshell, the performance is off.’

Chapter One – Wednesday December 1st

‘So, you see, we need somewhere new to perform. I know it’s a cheek to ask seeing as you don’t know me, and I was going to call Tom because I do know him, but I didn’t want to compromise him. I got the impression you’re all good friends at Mill Grange, but as Tom is just an employee really, I thought maybe it should come straight from me, but…’

‘Take a breath, Harriet.’ Thea cut through the young woman’s embarrassment. ‘Let’s start again. Are you asking me if I think Sam and Tina will let you use Mill Grange for some outdoor theatre?’

‘Yes.’

‘Right.’ Thea grabbed a piece of scrap paper and picked up her pen. ‘Now, tell me a little more about what you’d need, when you’d need it by, and how many people are involved.’

***

If you would find out what happens when outdoor theatre comes to Mill Grange, you can buy Winter Fires at Mill Grange, from all good book shops including –

Amazon – http://mybook.to/MillGrangeFour 

Waterstones – Winter Fires at Mill Grange by Jenny Kane | Waterstones

Nook – Winter Fires at Mill Grange: The perfect cosy heartwarming read this Christmas by Jenny Kane | NOOK Book (eBook) | Barnes & Noble® (barnesandnoble.com)

Kobo- Winter Fires at Mill Grange eBook by Jenny Kane – 9781801101974 | Rakuten Kobo United Kingdom 

For a short time, you an also buy Winter Fires from all large garden centres. (UK based)

Happy reading – and happy birthday Winter Fires!

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

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 

A Tiny Taster: A Cornish Escape

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

The Reluctant Investigator: Edward’s Outlaw

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

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