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

Category: Contemporary Romantic Fiction Page 1 of 59

Happy Birthday: Summer at Sea Glass Cove

Summer at Sea Glass Cove is two today!

Where on earth has the time gone!! I loved writing this novel. As I knew it was to be my last romcom/feelgood read for a while, I wanted to combine all of the traits my readers have come to expect from a ‘Jenny Kane book’.

There are solid friendships, (I promise you will love the relationship between Lauren and Arthur), a love of history – shown via a fabulous little museum and a shipwreck – a gorgeous seaside setting – the mythical, Lymeton Cove, near Lyme Regis, – and a cup of coffee or three.

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….

I’ve always been an exploring type, and when I go to the seaside I like to collect shells, driftwood, and anything that catches my eye. In this case – sea glass. In my fictious location, Lymeton Cove (nicknamed Sea Glass Cove by the locals), sea glass flecks can be found twinkling in the sand. Consequently, the village of Lymeton plays host to a fabulous shop called All at Sea, where local craftsman, Jules, makes and sells sea-glass jewellery and all manner of things from driftwood that has washed into Lymeton and Lyne Regis’s shore lines.

As you will have seen, if you read the opening lines from Summer at Sea Glass Cove in an earlier blog, the novel opens when Lauren visits Jules’s shop for the very first time. Not only does she fall in love with his amazing craftsmanship, she also notices one or two things that really ought to be in a museum – the shelving units made out of old ship planks for a start…

You can buy your copy of Summer at Sea Glass Cove from all good retailers (ebook, audio, and paperback) from today, including:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Kobo

WHSmith

Waterstones

Happy birthday, Summer at Sea Glass Cove, you were a joy to write!

Jenny xx

 

 

Opening Lines: Midsummer Dreams at Mill Grange

It’s been a while since I’ve shared some of my Opening Lines. I’m putting that right today by sharing the first 500 words from… 

Midsummer Dreams at Mill Grange

This is the first novel in my #bestselling #MillGrange #series

Midsummer Dreams at Mill Grange

This story begins a set of four novels, introducing you to Thea, Tina, Shaun, Sam, as well as the unstoppably adorable pensioners, Bert and Mabel. (Well, Bert is adorable…)

Welcome to the beautiful Exmoor countryside, on the Somerset/Devon border! Adventures await, once the doors to Mill Grange are opened…

Blurb

A warm-hearted, feel-good romance from Jenny Kane, a Kindle #1 bestselling author.

Thea Thomas needs to get away from her old life… and the interfering ex who won’t leave her alone. When she lands a job heading up the restoration of Mill Grange, a stunning Victorian manor in Somerset, it feels like the perfect opportunity to start afresh.

What Thea didn’t anticipate was how hostile the volunteer team, led by the formidable Mabel Hastings, would be about accepting new leadership. And with the deadline looming before the grand opening, Thea is in desperate need of more volunteers.

A broadcast appeal on the local news attracts the interest of arrogant but undeniably attractive celebrity historian Shaun Cowlson, who wants to make a TV programme about the restoration. It’s hard enough adding one more big personality to the mix – but then her ex turns up as one of the volunteers! What seemed like a dream come true is fast becoming a total disaster! Can Thea find a way to save the manor?

FIRST 500 WORDS

Thea Thomas checked her mobile. EMERGENCY CALLS ONLY was written in bold type across the top of the screen.

She tried connecting to her Wi-Fi.

Nothing happened.

Relief made her shoulders sag, as a wide smile knocked away some of the nervousness she felt about starting a new job in an unfamiliar part of England.

Here, she could avoid the constant barrage of social media alerts and unwanted texts, calls and emails. Here, she could start over.

***

Positioned at the top of a high rise of land, not far from the southern border of Exmoor, the Victorian manor house called Mill Grange rose from the centre of a gravelled drive, taking command of the surrounding scenery. Three tiers of a once-loved terraced garden fell away from the house in tatty overgrown rows. At the foot of these gardens ran a semi-encircling band of encroaching woodland, which the Ordnance Survey map Thea was clutching declared to stretch down to the River Barle on one side and the meandering River Exe on the other.

Huddled beneath her thick jumper against the sharp March wind, Thea was enfolded in a sensation of freedom and peace. The very stillness of the air, the lack of any visible overhead wires or street lighting, made her feel as if she’d driven into a Victorian time capsule. A Roman historian and archaeologist to the bone, she felt daunted by the prospect of taking on the restoration of a manor centuries removed from her field of expertise. With its fourteen bedrooms, seven bathrooms, numerous associated rooms, outhouses, and the mill after which it was named, a quarter of a mile away on the edge of Upwich village, it was not a task for the faint-hearted. However, the early spring sunshine, which caused the house’s granite walls to glitter with welcoming promise, seemed to be telling her it was going to be alright.

Alongside her Roman studies at university, Thea had trained in industrial archaeology and museum management, and was well-qualified for the job in hand. But this challenge, to turn Mill Grange into a heritage centre, was vastly different from her last posting at the Roman Baths in Bath. She could feel herself prodding the outer edges of her comfort zone.

At least she wouldn’t have to face the unknown alone. Her best friend, Tina, had been associated with the project for some time. Then there was the team of volunteers who’d been working on restoring Mill Grange, on a casual basis, for the last five years. A tingle of anxiety dotted Thea’s palms as she wondered how they’d take to being guided in their endeavours after pleasing themselves for so long.

Flicking an unruly stray brown hair from her eyes, she circuited the outside of the manor house. Thea’s boots made satisfying crunching sounds against the gravel as she attempted to banish her nerves, peering through each window as she went. The eclectic mix of original Victorian and reproduction furniture and artwork she saw within took…

If you’d like to read on, then Midsummer Dreams at Mill Grange is now available as an eBook or paperback from all good retailers, including…

Amazon UK 

Amazon.com 

Kobo 

Nook

Midsummer Dreams is the first in the #MillGrange #series. It’s followed by Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange, Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange and Winter Fires at Mill Grange.

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny xx

Happy 3rd Birthday: Bluebell Season at The Potting Shed

Bluebell Season at The Potting Shed is three years old!

Blurb

Maddie and her sister Sabi are back at The Potting Shed, but are their troubles over?

Bluebell Season at The Potting Shed is the sequel of Frost Falls at The Potting Shed, part of a new series by #1 Kindle bestselling author, Jenny Kane, that revolves around a family-run garden centre.

Spring has arrived at The Potting Shed and things seem to finally be going Maddie’s way. Her relationship with lovable lawyer Ed is going well and the business is thriving with the help of her new friend Jo and his bright orange coffee van.

But troubles are just around the corner… The upgrade of The Potting Shed from a nursery to a garden centre is at a critical point – turning part of Maddie’s business into a building site, and just as she has to temporarily move out of her home, a major garden centre announces its grand opening only twenty miles away.

With money running out Maddie and her sister Sabi must think fast – they only have until the end of bluebell season to save The Potting Shed…

Here are the novel’s opening lines…

MARCH – Chapter One

Maddie’s breath caught in her throat as she saw the glass panel fall towards the gravel path. A vision of half of The Potting Shed’s new greenhouse roof being reduced to smithereens flashed through her mind as a workman dived forward and caught it a split second before it hit the ground.

‘I can’t watch this anymore.’ Maddie turned her sister. ‘It took us so long to decide whether we should splash out on a greenhouse for my herbs or not, I don’t want to look again until it’s up. It’s too stressful.’

Sabi gave the two men the full force of the haughty glare she reserved especially for tradesmen. ‘Let’s go inside. We’re supposed to be talking battle plans for the nursery’s expansion, and I for one could murder for a cup of tea.’

*

‘You know the greenhouse’s roof wouldn’t have smashed, don’t you?’

‘Logically, yes.’ Maddie placed the biscuit tin in the middle of the kitchen table. ‘No point in paying for reinforced glass if it’s not going to do its job, but instinct still told me it was going to break.’

‘Have you worked out which herbs you’re going to grow yet?’

‘Almost.’ Maddie glanced down as Florrie’s wet nose nudged at her hand. ‘Yes, I know you want a biscuit, but you’ve already had one, and they aren’t good for you.’ She ruffled the puppy’s black and white fur, before returning to the point. ‘I’ll start by increasing production of the herbs I already grow. All the favourites: thyme, mint, chives, parsley, and such. But I also want to produce some less common varieties too. See if I can tempt people to be braver in their tastes. Borage definitely – it’s good in a jug of Pimm’s; maybe some caraway and chervil.’

‘Not coriander and dill? I use all of those – and basil of course.’

Maddie’s eyebrows rose. ‘You mean Henry uses all of those.’

‘Yes, well, it’s hardly my fault if my husband loves to cook.’

‘You’re a lucky woman, Sabs.’ Patting her sister’s arm, Maddie selected another biscuit. ‘But I’ll leave out those particular herbs for now. They tend to bolt if you don’t keep on top of them, and as we can’t afford to employ any more staff, I want to keep things low maintenance.’

Sabi delved a hand into her massive handbag, pulled out a state-of-the-art tablet, and opened it at a list of jobs that needed doing. ‘Maybe we should have ordered a bigger greenhouse.’

‘Anything bigger wouldn’t have fitted between the first polytunnel and the path to the car park.’

‘I still can’t see why it couldn’t have been built on the scrap of land at the far side of the nursery.’

‘Light.’ Maddie bit back the temptation to ask Sabi how many times they needed to have this conversation. ‘While the rear of The Potting Shed does enjoy the sunshine, overall, it’s lighter at the front of the nursery for longer each day.’

Sabi grunted reluctant acceptance of the situation as she pulled a cookie from the tin, brushing a crumb away as it hit her tablet’s screen…

If that extract has whetted your appetite, you can order your copy of Bluebell today from all good retailers, including:

 Amazon UK, Amazon US, Kobo, and Waterstones

Bluebell Season at The Potting Shed follows Frost Falls at The Potting Shed, and precedes Misty Mornings at The Potting Shed. 

Happy Reading,

Jenny x

Everyone loves a Cornish read…

I’ve been a regular visitor to Cornwall all my life. It’s not surprising then, that I’ve written five novels based in the county: A Cornish Escape and its sequel, A Cornish Wedding, as well as my recent cosy crime novels, The Fish and Chip Shop Detectives, The Fish and Chips Shop Detectives and the Campervan Murder, and a third, as yet unannounced, chip shop mystery.

While all of these stories fall neatly into the #feelgood fiction range, the first two lean towards #romance and #friendship – without being in anyway twee! A Cornish Escape and A Cornish Wedding follow the adventures of Abi Carter, who is about to start a #newlife by the sea.

Blurb- A Cornish Escape

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

 

Opening Lines with Hannah Claire: The Book Lover’s Bucket List

I’m delighted to welcome Hannah Claire to my blog today with the #openinglines of her debut novel: The Book Lover’s Bucket List.

This a particular pleasure for me, not because this is such a fun read, but because Hannah is a former #novelinayear student, turned friend. I could not be more thrilled to be hosting her today.

Publication is scheduled for 24th April, which is National Bucket List Day. How perfect is that!!

Blurb

A bucket list to change her life.

Gabriella Brookes has spent years quietly loving Zach Osborne, knowing he only sees her as his best friend’s bookish little sister. He’s charming, successful, and only back in their Derbyshire village for the summer before his next big move.

When Gabby stumbles across her long-forgotten teenage bucket list, Zach proposes a deal: together, they’ll tick off her book-inspired challenges, if she helps him complete a few fun tasks of his own.

What starts as a perfectly sensible plan quickly turns into something far more complicated, when real life refuses to stay neatly tucked between the pages.

But as Zach’s past resurfaces and his future pulls him away, Gabby is forced to face a harder truth: dreams don’t come true if you only ever read about them.

Ticking off the challenges was meant to be easy.
Admitting what your heart wants is the real risk.

A cosy, small-town romantic comedy about courage, love, and rewriting your own ending.

Here are the first 500 words:

Chapter One

It was late afternoon at Millbrook Library, and the only sounds were the hushed murmuring of voices, the turning of pages and the occasional clank from the ancient heating pipes. Gabriella Brookes cast her eyes over the display she was working on and gave it a nod of approval. Every summer they had a table for recommended holiday reads and, this year, Gabby was determined to make it bigger and better than ever. She adjusted the bucket and spade, sprinkled a little more sand around and reached for the large stack of books she had selected.

As far as Gabby was concerned, one of the best bits of her job managing the library was helping people find the perfect book for their current need or mood. For the summer Read Yourself Happy display, she had chosen novels set in far-flung and exotic locations, as well as sweet English villages beset by murders; some laugh-out-loud comedies and twisty, turny thrillers and, of course, a handful of swoon-worthy love stories with gorgeous romantic heroes. All novels you could relax with, and enjoy a much-needed break from reality. Too much reality was definitely a bad thing, Gabby decided, appraising the display.

‘Looking good,’ her colleague Ange called out as she walked over and joined Gabby at the table. ‘Perfect for the weather.’

She nodded to the large arched windows, which gave a great view of the rain lashing down on the usually bustling marketplace of Millbrook. The chocolate-box-pretty village high in the Derbyshire Dales was beset with heavy grey clouds, the trees around the square bending in the wind. The market was devoid of locals and tourists alike, everyone seeking refuge from the storm instead of browsing the stalls. The traders were huddled inside their coats trying to stay dry, though Gabby could see some of them packing up early, giving up hope of more shoppers when the weather was so terrible.

‘I love that you chose today of all days to do the holiday reads table,’ Ange went on. ‘It’s the worst weather we’ve had in weeks. We should be displaying blankets and hot water bottles, not seashells and ice cream.’

Gabby took a cuddly seagull from her box of supplies and sat it next to a stack of romantic comedies.

‘It’s the middle of June. There should be a bit of sun, at least. That’s why the display was on the list for this week.’

‘And if it’s on Gabby’s list, it has to happen,’ Ange teased. ‘Shame the weather didn’t get the memo. Though you know that sand will get everywhere, right? We’ll be hoovering it up from now until Christmas.’

Laughing, Gabby tucked a stray dark-blonde curl that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear. She liked working with Ange. At thirty-nine, Ange was ten years older than Gabby, and while the two women were very different, they had bonded over their shared love of books. Ange was loud, confident, and liked to wear the brightest clothes she…

***

If that has whetted your appetite, then you can pre-order Book One in the Millbrook series (published by Dove Peak Press) now: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0GX33FZ34 

Bio

Hannah has always been a bookworm, loving nothing more than escaping into fictional worlds. She can’t walk past a bookshop without adding to her already-overflowing To Be Read shelves. She writes contemporary romantic novels set against the beautiful landscape of the Peak District in Derbyshire, close to where she lives.

A firm believer in the power of love stories to offer comfort and escape, Hannah writes books that celebrate connection, hope, and the magic of second chances — stories designed to bring a little joy into busy lives.

She lives with her husband, their three children, two cats, and one very bouncy dog who still hasn’t worked out that squirrels generally don’t want to be her friends.

Hannah loves long sunny days spent outdoors and rainy afternoons spent indoors — ideally under a cosy blanket with a good book. Her favourite things include sparkly nail varnish, candles, bubble baths, and chocolate, and she remains convinced that there is no such thing as too many notebooks.

Many thanks Hannah.

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x

Tiny Taster: Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange

With Spring making its presence felt, I thought I’d share a tiny taster from the third novel in the #MillGrange series:

Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange.

Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange

BLURB

Helen Rogers has been lying to herself over her feelings for Tom since the moment they met. And for good reason; not only are they colleagues, working together with the archaeology groups at Mill Grange, but her sabbatical is almost over and she’ll soon have to return to Bath.

Tom Harris knows he’s falling in love with Helen. How could he not? She’s smart, kind and great with his son Dylan. But with his ex-wife suddenly offering him a chance to spend more time with Dylan, and the staff of Mill Grange about to host a wedding, everything else has to be put to one side. Even his feelings for a certain archaeologist.

As Helen’s time at Mill Grange runs short, the two are forced to consider what matters most…

Set in the beautiful Exmoor countryside, on the border of Devon and Somerset, Spring Blossoms, continues the story of Thea, Shaun, Sam, Tina, Mable and Bert – as well as Helen and Tom, who were newcomers to the house in Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange.

Here’s a tiny taster…

‘Do you honestly think I’ll need eighteen pairs of knickers? It’s the Cotswolds, not the Kalahari.’

Thea scooped the entire contents of her underwear drawer onto the bed as Shaun flung open a suitcase.

‘No, I think you’ll need thirty pairs or more, but as you only have eighteen, then pack them.’

‘Seriously?’ Thea eyed some of her older undies with suspicion. The greying fabric had been consigned to the back of the drawer to be used in emergencies only, although now she thought about it, she wasn’t sure what that emergency might be. An archaeological excavation in the middle of nowhere, perhaps?

‘You know what it’s like on a dig. Laundry facilities only happen to other people. A flushing toilet can be a luxury sometimes.’

‘Won’t the local village have a launderette?’

‘It’s the Cotswolds, Thea. The people who can afford to live there don’t need launderettes.’ Shaun winked. ‘I tend to wring out my smalls in the nearest public toilet sink or a bucket of cold water.’

Thea laughed. ‘I used to do that when I was a student on excavation.’ Stuffing every pair of socks she owned into the suitcase, she added, ‘Age has softened me!’

‘You’ve got used to manor house living, that’s what it is.’ As Shaun threw a pile of t-shirts onto the bed, he caught a glimpse of anxiety crossing Thea’s face. ‘I was…

***

You don’t have to have read Midsummer Dreams at Mill Grange or Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange, to enjoy Spring Blossoms, although you’d probably get more from the story if you have. The final book in the series, Winter Fires at Mill Grange, follows hot on  Spring Blossoms’ heels.

If you would like to buy an e-copy, paperback or audio version of Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange, you can purchase a copy from all good retailers, including…

Happy reading,

Jenny x

Guinea pigs, a Robin Hood fan and a forthcoming wedding…

Valentines

As this week brings St. Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d share a little of Romancing Robin Hood– my part romance/part medieval mystery novel- with you. In particular, I’m introducing you to Daisy and some of her many animals, just before her wedding day.

Romancing Robin Hood is a contemporary romance is based on the life of Dr Grace Harper, a medieval history lecturer with a major Robin Hood obsession. So much so, that instead of writing a textbook on medieval life, Grace is secretly writing a novella about a fourteenth century girl called Mathilda, who gets mixed up with a real outlaw family of the day, the Folvilles. As you read Grace’s story, you can read the medieval mystery she is writing alongside!

The problem is, Grace is so embroiled in her work and passion for outlaws, that real life is passing her by.

RH- E Flynn

Grace’s best friend Daisy is about to get married, and she can’t help wishing a similar happiness to her own for her Robin Hood loving friend…

Extract

…Daisy hadn’t grown up picturing herself floating down the aisle in an over-sequinned ivory frock, nor as a doting parent, looking after triplets and walking a black Labrador. So when, on an out-of-hours trip to the local vet’s surgery she’d met Marcus and discovered that love at first sight wasn’t a myth, it had knocked her for six.

She’d been on a late-night emergency dash to the surgery with an owl a neighbour had found injured in the road. Its wing had required a splint, and it was too big a job for only one pair of hands. Daisy had been more than a bit surprised when the locum vet had stirred some long-suppressed feeling of interest in her, and even more amazed when that feeling had been reciprocated.

It was all luck, sheer luck. Daisy had always believed that anyone meeting anybody was down to two people meeting at exactly the right place, at exactly the right time, while both feeling precisely the right amount of chemistry. The fact that any couples existed at all seemed to Daisy to be one of the greatest miracles of humanity.

She pictured Grace, tucked away in her mad little office only living in the twenty-first century on a part-time basis. Daisy had long since got used to the fact that her closest friend’s mind was more often than not placed firmly in the 1300s. Daisy wished Grace would finish her book. It had become such a part of her. Such an exclusive aim that nothing else seemed to matter very much. Even the job she used to love seemed to be a burden to her now, and Daisy sensed that Grace was beginning to resent the hours it took her away from her life’s work. Maybe if she could get her book over with – get it out of her system – then Grace would stop living in the wrong timeframe.

Daisy knew Grace appreciated that she never advised her to find a bloke, settle down, and live ‘happily ever after,’ and she was equally grateful Grace had never once suggested anything similar to her. Now she had Marcus, however, Daisy had begun to want the same contentment for her friend, and had to bite her tongue whenever they spoke on the phone; something that happened less and less these days.

Grace’s emails were getting shorter too. The long paragraphs detailing the woes of teaching students with an ever-decreasing intelligence had blunted down to, ‘You ok? I’m good. Writing sparse. See you soon. Bye G x’

The book. That in itself was a problem. Grace’s publishers and colleagues, Daisy knew, were expecting an academic tome. A textbook for future medievalists to ponder over in the university libraries of the world. And, in time, that was exactly what they were going to get, but not yet, for Grace had confided to Daisy that this wasn’t the only thing she was working on, and her textbook was coming a poor third place to work and the other book she couldn’t seem to stop herself from writing.

‘Why,’ Grace had forcefully expounded on their last meeting, ‘should I slog my guts out writing a book only a handful of bored students and obsessive freaks like myself will ever pick up, let alone read?’

As a result, Grace was writing a novel, ‘A semi-factual novel,’ she’d said, ‘a story which will tell any student what they need to know about the Folville family and their criminal activities – which bear a tremendous resemblance to the stories of a certain famous literary outlaw! – and hopefully promote interest in the subject for those who aren’t that into history without boring them to death.’

It sounded like a good idea to Daisy, but she also knew, as Grace did, that it was precisely the sort of book academics frowned upon, and she was worried about Grace’s determination to finish it. Daisy thought it would be more sensible to concentrate on one manuscript at a time, and get the dry epic that everyone was expecting out of the way first. Perhaps it would have been completed by now if Grace could focus on one project at a time, rather than it currently being a year in the preparation without a final result in sight. Daisy suspected Grace’s boss had no idea what she was really up to. After all, she was using the same lifetime of research for both manuscripts. She also had an underlying suspicion that subconsciously Grace didn’t want to finish either the textbook or the novel; that her friend was afraid to finish them. After all, what would she fill her hours with once they were done?

Daisy’s mobile began to play a tinny version of Nellie the Elephant. She hastily plopped a small black guinea pig, which she’d temporarily called Charcoal, into a run with his numerous friends, and fished her phone from her dungarees pocket.

‘Hi, Marcus.’

‘Hi honey, you OK?’

‘Just delivering the tribe to their outside quarters, then I’m off to face the horror that is dress shopping.’

Her future husband laughed, ‘You’ll be fine. You’re just a bit rusty, that’s all.’

‘Rusty! I haven’t owned a dress since I went to parties as a small child. Thirty-odd years ago!’

‘I don’t understand why you don’t go with Grace at the weekend. It would be easier together wouldn’t it?’

Daisy sighed, ‘I’d love to go with her, but I’ll never get her away from her work more than once this month, and I’ve yet to arrange a date for her to buy a bridesmaid outfit.’

‘Well, good luck, babe. I’m off to rob some bulls of their manhood.’

Daisy giggled, ‘Have fun. Oh, why did you call by the way?’

‘Just wanted to hear your voice, nothing else.’

‘Oh cute – ta.’

‘Idiot! Enjoy shopping.’

As she clicked her battered blue mobile shut and slid it back into her working clothes, Daisy thought of Grace again. Perhaps she should accidentally invite loads of single men to the wedding to tempt her friend with. The trouble was, unless they wore Lincoln Green, and carried a bow and quiver of arrows, Daisy very much doubted whether Grace would even notice they were there…

If that extract has whetted your appetite for more, Romancing Robin Hood is available in paperback, and e-formats from all good retailers- including…

Kindle –
(Available via KDP for those who subscribe)
Paperback-

 

Happy Valentine’s Day,

Jenny x

 

Happy 4th Birthday: Winter Fires at Mill Grange

Winter Fires at Mill Grange is 4 !!

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 

Happy reading – and happy birthday Winter Fires!

Jenny x

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

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