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

Tag: festive

Christmas in the Cotswolds: Coffee, Art and Choirs

With this years festive story, Christmas at the Castle, still looking new and shiny on the eBook shelves, I have been looking back at its predecessors this week. On Saturday I treated you to a free read from Another Cup of Christmas. Today I’m looking back at last year’s festive offering, Christmas in the Cotswolds.

Christmas in the Cotswolds is the festive (short novella) sequel to Another Cup of Christmas – which in itself follows the novel, Another Cup of Coffee. Rather than being set in the Pickwicks cafe in Richmond however, for this adventure, I took Megan, Pickwicks regular waitress, away from her day job, and sent her on a mercy mission…

CITC- New cover 2015

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 …

***

I’ve always loved the Cotswolds, and was lucky enough to grow up not too far from their villages filled with yellow stoned picturesque cottages and stunning churches. For me, once I’d decided to take Megan away from Pickwicks for a while, the Cotswolds was the obvious choice of location. It is precisely the type of area I can imagine Izzie setting up an arts and craft centre, which- were it real- I have no doubt would flourish! I’d go there for sure. It has a cafe after all!

Extract

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 polythene sheeting would keep the rest of her chancel roof in place overnight, Izzie headed home.

Izzie scooped up three Christmas cards from her doormat. A smile replaced her frown as she opened the first envelope to see a cartoon robin wishing her a Merry Christmas. Inside, beneath the seasonal greeting, her friend Megan had written Must meet up SOON! I’d love to see your new art centre.

‘Should I?’ Izzie was sure her dearest friend from college would help. Megan always helped. Izzie addressed the picture of the robin, ‘But won’t she be hugely busy at Pickwicks café this close to Christmas?’

Switching on her laptop, Izzie started to hunt for a replacement tradesman to help repair her church roof. Half an hour of searching later, and her quest was looking increasingly hopeless by the minute.

It was no good, if she wasn’t going to be forced to ask her parents to bail her out – which was an ‘over her dead body’ situation as far as Izzie was concerned – she needed alternative assistance. Izzie picked up her mobile before guilt at disturbing her friend’s life at Christmas overtook her.

‘Megan, thank goodness you’re there! How can I put this … help!’

***

Church roof

Although Christmas in the Cotswolds is a sequel, it can also be read as a standalone story.

If you’d like to have a read, you can buy my latest novella from all good e-retailers including-

Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Christmas-Cotswolds-seasonal-short-story-ebook/dp/B00PK2MA3I/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1415899501&sr=8-1&keywords=Christmas+in+the+Cotswolds+jenny+kane

Amazon.com – http://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Cotswolds-seasonal-short-story-ebook/dp/B00PK2MA3I/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1415899535&sr=8-1&keywords=Christmas+in+the+Cotswolds+Jenny+Kane

***

Happy reading,

Jenny x

A Little Sip from Another Cup of Christmas

With Christmas at the Castle, the third festive sequel to follow on from my novel, Another Cup of Coffee just out, I thought it would be fun to return to my first Christmas special today, Another Cup of Christmas, and treat you to a tasty sip from its eBook pages.

This was my second outing as Jenny Kane, and, like its predecessor, Another Cup of Christmas, was set in and around Pickwicks Coffee House in Richmond (on the outskirts of London). Five years have elapsed since the close of Another Cup of Coffee, and there are a few new faces to be spotted amongst the old.

ACOChristmas- New 2015

Here’s the Blurb-

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

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

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

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

***

A novella rather than a novel, Another Cup of Christmas can be easily consumed in one delicious cinnamon flavoured mouthful! I would recommend a quiet afternoon curled up on the sofa with a mince pie and a hot drink to hand (a cup of coffee perhaps??), and an hour’s escape into the adventures of Peggy, Scott, Kit, Phil, Nick and Megan…

Coffee blog- Full Bean Cafe Somerton- Hot Choc

Here’s how Another Cup of Christmas begins…

Chapter One

December 4th 2012

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

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

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

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

Pickwicks Festive Fundraiser!

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

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

Saturday 22nd December from 2pm.

Deluxe Buffet And Festive Fundraising Fun!

Tickets are ONLY £25 per person

Don’t miss out!

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

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

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

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

‘Two and a half weeks!’

‘Oh, hell! Really?’

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

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

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

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

‘Which is?’

‘I can check my emails? I’m supposed to be liaising with the hospital about this for Peggy, but we’ve been so busy over the last few days I haven’t had time to see if Nick has got back to me about how many of the ward staff are coming.’

‘Nick?’

Megan silently cursed her inability to prevent the involuntary warm pink blush that hit her pale cheeks, ‘Yeah, he’s the admin guy for the ward that cared for Scott after his accident.’

‘Nice, is he?’ Kit gently teased the petite blonde waitress, wondering, not for the first time, why someone as kind and pretty as Megan hadn’t been snapped up years ago.

‘I’ve never met him, but he seems friendly. Well, he does via email and over the phone at least.’

‘You’ve spoken to him then?’

‘There are loads of things to sort out.’ Megan, knowing that the crush she’d developed on Nick’s Irish accent was utterly ridiculous, turned her full attention to the poster on the screen before her…

****

I hope that’s whetted your appetite for this feel good festive romance!

Another Cup of Coffee - New cover 2015

Although Another Cup of Christmas follows on from Another Cup of Coffee, it can also be read as a standalone piece.

If you’d like to buy Another Cup of Christmas it is available as a downloads from all good eBook suppliers including-

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Another-Cup-Christmas-Jenny-Kane-ebook/dp/B00GMO4ZIQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1384329366&sr=1-1&keywords=another+cup+of+christmas+jenny+kane

http://www.amazon.com/Another-Cup-Christmas-Jenny-Kane-ebook/dp/B00GMO4ZIQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1384329400&sr=8-1&keywords=another+cup+of+Christmas

***

Happy reading,

Jenny x

Feet up time- Christmas in the Cotswolds

A little while ago I shared a festive snippet with you from the sequel to my first novel, Another Cup of Coffee, – Another Cup of Christmas! Today I thought I’d share a little from this years festive story, Christmas in the Cotswolds!

Another Cup of Christmas is set in and around Pickwicks Coffee House in Richmond (on the outskirts of London), and five years have elapsed since the close of Another Cup of Coffee, and there are a few new faces to be spotted amongst the old, including Megan, the cafe’s new waitress. This year, my Christmas novella, Christmas in the Cotswolds, carries on Megan’s story exactly a year later- and this time, she is on her travels.

Christmas in the Cotswolds

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 …

****

Got your feet up? Cup of tea, hot chocolate- or more appropriately perhaps, coffee, to hand? Right then…

Extract

Megan turned off the engine of the battered old car she’d borrowed from her boyfriend with a sigh of relief. Despite checking and double-checking her directions, she’d still managed to take a couple of wrong turns once she’d left the motorway and started to wind her way through the Cotswolds. Megan knew that if she’d been with Nick, every road she’d driven down in error would have added to the adventure, but on her own, after such a long drive, she’d begun to feel a little panicky and lost.

Now, outside the converted St Peter’s church, Megan climbed from the car, and was just taking in the frosty beauty of the picture-postcard sandy-coloured cottages, when she found herself the target of a beaming Izzie, who had enveloped her in a bear hug within seconds.

‘I’m so glad you came! Thank you so much, you’re a total lifesaver!’ Izzie, wearing torn and worn dungarees covered in plaster dust, with a bright red bandana covering her short cropped brown hair, took her friend by the hand and dragged her inside the church, ‘Come and see!’

Her fatigue evaporating in the face of her friend’s infectious enthusiasm, Megan allowed herself to be led through the arched doorway of the church into the porch, and drew in a surprised breath.

Megan had forgotten how cold churches could be, and immediately wished she’d put her coat on over her thick jumper and jeans. Wrapping her arms around her

chest she stopped in the medieval archway. ‘It’s stunning!’

What had once been the south aisle was now full of repositioned church pews and tables, which obviously formed the café part of the attraction. With a stained glass window reflecting coloured light across the space from both the right and left of the aisle, it felt both welcoming and peaceful at the same time.

The original font was still in position to the left of the doorway, and Megan could picture generations of babies being baptised there. Beyond the font was a rack which had presumably once held hymn books but now housed a collection of paperback books, newspapers, and magazines for the café’s visitors to read while they sipped their drinks.

‘Oh, Izzie, it’s fantastic! Where do you do all the cooking and sort the coffee and stuff?’

Izzie indicated to the right, where a wide door led into a separate room. ‘In the old vestry. It’s lucky for us really, nearly every other church has the vestry attached to the north aisle, but it’s on the south aisle here, nice and handy by the main door. There’s a little oven, serving hatch, and a baking area, although Mrs V does most of the baking at home.’

‘Mrs V?’

‘An angel in the flesh! Her name’s Mrs Vickers really, although everyone calls her Mrs V. She lives just around the corner, and is my chief cook and bottle washer. You’ll love her. She’s like the best grandmother ever.’

Wondering why Izzie needed her if she had the incredible Mrs V on side, but sensing there was more she had to say but wasn’t quite ready to, Megan asked, ‘Why isn’t it a church anymore?’

Flopping down onto the nearest pew, Izzie looked about her with pride. ‘The diocese couldn’t afford to run

all four of its Cotswold village churches so that, along with dwindling congregations, meant one of the local churches had to be given up. Criminal really, it’s so beautiful. Despite the ravages of the Reformation, a good deal of it dates from the fourteenth century. I could just sit here and admire the brickwork and stained glass all day.’

The more Megan looked, the more she could see what Izzie meant. There were still traces of the original wall paintings discernible on the walls, and the carving of the stonework in the nearest column was an artist’s dream. ‘Where will the choir be performing?’

Izzie’s smile faded, ‘I have a confession to make.’

Megan regarded her friend carefully; it wasn’t like her to hide anything. ‘Go on.’

‘Well, you know I said I had to do a bit of DIY on the roof before the concert on the twenty-first?’

‘Yes …’

‘I think it’s best I show you.’ Izzie led Megan out of the shelter of the south aisle and through the nave, before turning right and taking a few steps towards the chancel.

‘Oh my God!’ Megan’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘That is going to take more than a little bit of DIY.’

The floor was littered with a fine stone dust. A series of tools and brooms were propped up against the wall, and as the temperature dropped further Megan saw clearly exactly why the church felt even colder than she’d expected. A hole about half a metre square was thoroughly ventilating the old building, despite being covered with a sheet of see-through polythene. The presence of a very long ladder told Megan that someone had been shoring up the damage, but there wasn’t a workman in sight.

‘You haven’t been up there all on your own, have you?’

Izzie shook her head, ‘No. I’ve been doing what I

can, but a carpenter or roofer I’m not. There was a storm last week. A branch from the trees in the old graveyard decided it would like to crash through the roof. There was a carpenter here, but well … anyway, tomorrow there will be scaffolding going up outside so that a roofer can replace the tiles – if I can find one who’ll work this close to Christmas, but …’

Megan held up her hand, ‘Hold on a minute, Izzie. What do you mean there was a carpenter?’

‘His wishful thinking got a bit out of control.’ Izzie picked at her work-blunted fingernails. ‘Some idiot told him I was the local heiress and he decided to try his luck. He didn’t take kindly to my rebuff.’

‘You mean he got huffy when you told him he stood no chance?’

‘You got it.’ Izzie kept her eyes fixed on the space in the roof as she spoke, ‘It’s bad enough that my parents give me non-stop grief about being still single at twenty-six, without being hit on by every passing bloke the moment they overhear one of the locals ask after my mother. One mention of “Lady Spencer-Harris” and the carpenter became all airs and graces. Then, when he saw I wasn’t into all that stuff, he chanced his arm saying, and I quote, “Do you fancy a bunk-up in the vestry?”’

Megan rolled her eyes, ‘I imagine your response was short and to the point.’

‘Let’s just say my mother would approve of the language I used even less than she approves of me “playing at being a business woman”.’

Having met Lady Spencer-Harris on a couple of occasions when she’d visited Izzie during their college holidays, Megan had no problem imagining that she wouldn’t approve of her only daughter doing any sort of manual work, even if it was preserving part of the nation’s heritage at the same time.

‘So,’ Megan turned her back on the mess in the

chancel and examined the rest of the church, taking in the collection of craft equipment stacked up on a thin bench that ran the length of the north aisle, a collection of child-sized craft tables and seats lined up ready for use, and the tower, which looked mercifully intact from where she stood, ‘level with me. You have Mrs V in the kitchen, and there is no way, crisis or no crisis, you are getting me up a ladder, so what do you need me to do?’

‘Moral support!’ Izzie enveloped Megan in another hug. ‘It’s getting late. You must be starving and cold. Let’s lock up and go have dinner with my folks over with. I have a three-line whip order to bring you to the high table tonight.’

‘Oh God, really?’ Megan grimaced, ‘But I didn’t bring anything suitable to wear to one of your parents’ dinners.’

‘Don’t worry, I have loads of “please the parents” outfits; you can borrow one.’

Knowing she should have guessed she’d never have got away without a summons from Izzie’s parents, Megan nodded. ‘All right, you have a deal, but on one condition.’

‘Which is?’

‘You tell me what you really want me to do while I’m here…’

***

Buy Links- ONLY $1.21 or 77p

Happy reading,
Jenny x

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