Jenny Kane & Jennifer Ash

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

Category: Romance Page 1 of 39

Happy Birthday: Summer at Sea Glass Cove

By

On May 26, 2026

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

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

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On May 15, 2026

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

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

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On April 30, 2026

In Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, Jenny Kane, Romance, 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…

By

On April 20, 2026

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

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

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On April 18, 2026

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

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

Opening Lines with Jan Baynham: The Stolen Sister

By

On March 5, 2026

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

I’m welcoming the super lovely, and ultra-talented, Jan Baynham to my place today to share the #openinglines from her brand new novel: THE STOLEN SISTER

Thank you for inviting be back to your lovely blog, Jenny.

Introduction

The Stolen Sister is my sixth novel. It has all the features which readers are coming to expect of my books – a dual timeline, contrasting locations, family secrets and two love stories. In this novel, there is also the theme of grief, resilience, sibling relationships, romantic love, a search for identity and reconciliation. It’s set in beautiful Crete in 1963 and again twenty years later, as well as rural mid-Wales. The Stolen Sister is the story of Greta, a young Welsh painter who arrives in the fictional town of Fáros Limáni to join an art commune. In 1984, her daughter Zoë travels to Crete to carry out her mother’s dying wish to have her ashes scattered into the sea there even though she knows nothing of her mother’s connection with the island. Through my words, I hope I’ve been able to take the reader on a virtual trip to this stunning island, as seen through Zoë’s eyes as she returns to the place of her birth for the first time.

Matala caves

Blurb

Lost letters. A secret Greek love affair. A daughter’s search for the truth.

Crete, 1963. Young artist Greta Ellis arrives at the sun-soaked port of Fáros Limáni, ready to paint and explore the beautiful Greek island.

There she meets passionate local, Andreas Papadakis, and Greta is swept up in a world of colour, freedom and forbidden love. But when tragedy strikes, Greta is forced to make an impossible choice that will change the course of her life — and her heart — forever.

Wales, 1984. After the death of her beloved mother Greta, silversmith Zoë Carter receives a sealed letter that upends everything she thought she knew. Greta’s dying wish is for her ashes to be scattered in Crete, a place precious to her . . . but somewhere she had never spoken of.

Searching through her mother’s belongings, Zoë uncovers a series of letters. Written in Greek and dated the year before she was born, they reveal a passionate love affair. And a tragedy that tore it apart.

Determined to know the truth, Zoë travels to Crete to follow the trail left behind in her mother’s letters. Through the olive groves and whitewashed villages of Crete, she begins to piece together a story of love, betrayal and loss — and discovers that her family was never what it seemed.

Perfect for fans of Lucinda Riley, Kate Morton, Dinah Jefferies, Santa Montefiore, Fiona Valpy, Barbara Davis, Angela Petch, Karen Swan or Anita Chapman.

First 500 Words

Prologue

North West Crete, 1967

Greta forced herself to smile as she watched her handsome new husband join in with the traditional Greek dancers, his blue eyes sparkling as he swayed his hips and dipped in time with the others as they circled the dance floor. The haunting sound of the bouzouki music filled the busy taverna above the noise of the fun and laughter of the diners. Since arriving in Crete four years before as a naive art student, she’d heard the instrument played many times but tonight there was something unnerving about the music. It seemed dissonant to her. Something wasn’t right.

She quickly dismissed the feeling when her three-year-old daughter wriggled down from her lap.

‘Me dance, too.’ Even though she could hardly keep her eyes open, the little girl ran towards the dancers who stopped and clapped, welcoming a laughing Greta and her daughter to join John in the circle. They all sidestepped and dipped, then kicked each leg in time to the music.

The meal at the taverna, situated a few miles out of Fáros Limáni, was to celebrate John joining his wife and daughter to make a new life together and to thank their American friends, Bill and Nancy, who’d helped them settle. John had left his temporary teaching job in Heraklion for a permanent post close to where they were going to live.

Returning to sit down at the table, Greta pulled the little girl onto her lap, loving how she snuggled into her and fell asleep, safe in her mother’s arms. She always looks so like her father as she sleeps. The same long dark lashes, the same beautiful face.

She looked at a smiling John, sitting next to her. How she loved her new husband! She couldn’t believe how lucky she was that life was good again . . . so why did she have a niggle of foreboding?

‘Someone’s exhausted. Shall we go?’ John stood and held out his arms to take the little one from Greta. Bill and Nancy stood to go with them.

They took the coastal road back to the port. Relieved John was driving slowly round such sharp bends and that the road was deserted, Greta relaxed into the seat behind him.

‘Not far now, sweetheart.’ John glanced in the rear mirror at the little girl fast asleep between Greta and Nancy.

A wall of rock loomed in the headlights.

Greta screamed. ‘John!’

John yanked the steering wheel in order to try to take the hairpin bend he’d been distracted from. ‘Holy shit! Hold on!’ Searing pain shot through the whole of Greta’s body as the car crashed into the cliff. She heard the thud of John’s head slamming down onto the centre of the steering wheel. Unable to move, deafening noise engulfing her — screams, the horn blaring continuously, her daughter wailing, panic in voices.

‘Oh, God.’ Bill shook his friend. John didn’t respond even as Bill shook him harder. Choked, he said, ‘I’ll get Greta out first. You lift the…

Here are some of the amazing reviews for Jan’s incredible work.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ‘The most compelling, evocative, heart-wrenching book I have ever read.’

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ‘Captivating and emotional . . . A top, top, must-read.’

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ‘One of the best sagas I’ve read in a very long time.’

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ‘A novel that will transport you to Greece, with its sensory delights of sights, sounds and flavours.’

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ‘The vivid imagery used to paint Greece is stunning and made me feel as if I was there. If you enjoy a multi-layered novel brimming with secrets, you’ll adore this story.’

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ‘Historical fiction at its best.’

You can buy The Stolen Sister from all good retailers, including:

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Stolen-Sister-powerful-emotional-historical-ebook/dp/B0GN9Z34YH/ref

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/Stolen-Sister-powerful-emotional-historical-ebook/dp/B0GN9Z34YH/ref 

BIO

Originally from mid-Wales, Jan lives in Radyr, on the outskirts of Cardiff. After retiring from a career in teaching and advisory education, she now writes historical fiction and sagas. Fascinated by family secrets and ‘skeletons lurking in cupboards’, Jan writes dual narrative, dual timeline historical novels that explore how decisions and actions made by family members from one generation impact on the lives of the next. Setting and a sense of place play an important part in all of Jan’s stories and as well as her native mid-Wales, there is always a contrasting location in sunnier climes. She is published by Joffe Books/Choc Lit. She enjoys meeting up with other writers, especially members of her local Cariad RNA Chapter as well as when attending talks and workshops.

X- @JanBaynham https://twitter.com/JanBaynham

Facebook – Jan Baynham Writer https://www.facebook.com/JanBayLit/?locale=en_GB

Instagram – janbaynham https://www.instagram.com/janbaynham/?hl=en-gb

Threads – https://www.threads.com/@janbaynham

Blog – Jan’s Journey into Writing https://janbaynham.blogspot.com

Amazon Page – Jan Baynham https://www.amazon.co.uk/stores/Jan-Baynham/author/B085DC6BKR?ref 

Many thanks for sharing your work with us today, Jan,

Happy reading,

Jenny xx

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

By

On February 10, 2026

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Fiction, Historical fiction, Jennifer Ash, Jenny Kane, medieval, Romance

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

 

Historical Seasonal Read: The Winter Outlaw

By

On December 11, 2025

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

All of The Folville Chronicles novels are set in the winter months.

Book Two: The Winter Outlaw, is a race against time over the festive season.

Will everyone survive to enjoy the Yule celebrations?

Blurb

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

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

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

***

Here’s the prologue to whet your appetite…

Prologue: Winter 1329

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Had given him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the meantime, where was he going to go?

***

Ever since I did my PhD (on medieval crime and its portrayal in the ballad literature of the fourteenth century), I have wanted to use what I learnt to tell a series of stories. Although I’ve written all sorts of things between 1999, when my PhD finished, and now – I still wasn’t sure it would ever happen. – but here it is!

 

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

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

Happy reading,

Jen xx

Happy 4th Birthday: Winter Fires at Mill Grange

By

On December 5, 2025

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

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 Grange – Winter 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

By

On December 4, 2025

In Another Cup of..., Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, Jenny Kane, Opening Lines Blog, Romance

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

 

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