Month: March 2018

To celebrate Easter Summer Moved On, the first book of my South Devon Duo is on special offer from Friday to Monday.

For each of the four days this offer is posted I will be including an extract from different parts of the book as a taster…

 

After a long-buried secret tears her family apart, Jess Hayden moves to the South Devon village of Lynbrook to live with her uncle.   Rufus owns the village pub, The Black Bull, and having visited before, Jess knows the villagers well…especially one of them.

Talún Hansen has a reputation, making him the kind of man no decent girl should get involved with.  Jess, however, has been under his spell from the moment they first met.  Although they always seem to bring out the worst in each other, there is no denying the attraction that simmers between them – an attraction Jess knows she needs to keep under control after repeated warnings from her uncle.

As she settles into village life she begins to learn more about this wild, dark-haired gypsy with the compelling eyes, and realises their lives hold many similarities.  Despite her uncle’s warnings, she begins to spend time with him.  For Jess, the coming summer holds passion; for Talún the hope that he has at last found someone who truly cares for him.

But as autumn approaches, a dark shadow from Jess’s past returns, bringing far-reaching and unwanted changes for both of them.

BUY LINKS:

 ️http://amzn.eu/fClL0V7 ️ http://a.co/6iMotg7

EXTRACT

Standing at the bar with George, Talún nodded a greeting to Adrian as he arrived. Pulling a handful of coins from his pocket, the Hall’s head gardener ordered a pint of best bitter.

‘Heard from Jess lately?’ he asked, watching Rufus as he replaced a bottle of brandy in the row of optics behind the bar.

‘Yes, she’s fine; she called earlier this afternoon.’ The publican turned to face him as he finished securing the bottle. ‘She’s out with her boyfriend this evening. I’ve invited him along to the restaurant opening. Seems like a nice lad.’

Talún absorbed all this information, watching as Sally placed Adrian’s beer in front of him and took his money. Nice lad. Not exactly his description of the muscle-bound blond who had been in the car with Jess back in February. Arrogant bastard seemed more appropriate, especially after his prejudiced remarks.

As Adrian wandered off to chat to a couple of locals, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small square card, placing it on the bar where he studied it for a few moments. If Zac Rayner was going to be at the restaurant opening then he sure as hell wanted to stay away.

‘Where did you get that from?’ George’s eyes widened with surprise as he lowered his pint and gazed at the invitation with a certain amount of longing.

‘Oh, it’s Adrian’s. Remember, he won it at the Pub Quiz? He won’t be able to make it so he gave it to me.’

‘And now you’re looking at it as if you’re having second thoughts about going.’ George smiled and ran his tongue slowly over his bottom lip, with the kind of expression that said he was keen to get his hands on it.

‘Well.’ Talún screwed up his face thoughtfully. ‘Yes, I had thought about going but…’ he picked it up, ‘now I don’t know whether I want to. Maybe,’ he swivelled around, leaning his back against the bar to look at the other occupants of the room, ‘I could offer it to someone else.’

George raised covetous eyes towards the invitation. He lifted his hand and was about to snatch it from Talún’s grasp when a voice from behind stopped him.

‘George, have you got a minute?’ Laurence Godwin, one of his farming neighbours, joined him, leaving Talún alone to peruse his ticket.

‘I’ve just been watching you. Not having second thoughts are you?’ Adrian materialised out of nowhere, his eyes on the invitation.

‘Do you want it back then?’ Talún waved it at him.

‘No, I wanted you to have a good night out, enjoy yourself.’

‘What, in a room full of stuffed shirts?’ He laughed as he placed the invitation back on the bar.

‘Ah, but Jess will be there too, won’t she?’ Adrian grinned and took a mouthful of beer.

‘Yeah. So?’

‘Just saying.’

‘Saying what, exactly?’

‘Saw you looking at her.’

‘Yeah, like everyone else in here does.’

‘You’re touchy tonight, laddie.’

‘I’m not touchy, so stop grinning like a moron. If I’m having second thoughts it’s because her boyfriend Zac will be there. Remember what he called me? If I see him again I just might be tempted to punch him.’

‘I still think you should go,’ Adrian insisted, ‘if not for the good food and wine then for the company of my three friends over there.’ He indicated the trio of gardeners in the corner then picked the invitation off the bar and handed it back to him. ‘Don’t ruin a good evening on account of one ignorant shite.’

George, having finished his conversation with Lawrence, turned his attention back to the question of the ticket. ‘Now about that ticket. How much do you want for it then, lad?’ he asked, rummaging in his trouser pocket and pulling out a note. ‘It’s worth a fiver of anyone’s money.’

‘A fiver?’ Adrian echoed, rolling his eyes. ‘You’re all heart, George.’

Talún thought for a moment, running his fingers along the edge of the card. Adrian was right, he thought. Sod Zac, why let him spoil a free night out with the lads? ‘Sorry George, I’ve changed my mind,’ he said, giving him a friendly slap on the back. ‘I think I deserve an all-expenses paid night out. Tell you what, I’ll buy you a drink instead to make up for the disappointment.’

George eyed him suspiciously. ‘A drink you say? You never buy anyone drinks, Talún. You’re usually scrounging them off me.’

‘Ah well,’ Talún laughed, producing a handful of change from his pocket, ‘there’s a first time for everything.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To celebrate Easter Summer Moved On, the first book of my South Devon Duo is on special offer from Friday to Monday.

For each of the four days this offer is posted I will be including an extract from different parts of the book as a taster…

 

After a long-buried secret tears her family apart, Jess Hayden moves to the South Devon village of Lynbrook to live with her uncle.   Rufus owns the village pub, The Black Bull, and having visited before, Jess knows the villagers well…especially one of them.

Talún Hansen has a reputation, making him the kind of man no decent girl should get involved with.  Jess, however, has been under his spell from the moment they first met.  Although they always seem to bring out the worst in each other, there is no denying the attraction that simmers between them – an attraction Jess knows she needs to keep under control after repeated warnings from her uncle.

As she settles into village life she begins to learn more about this wild, dark-haired gypsy with the compelling eyes, and realises their lives hold many similarities.  Despite her uncle’s warnings, she begins to spend time with him.  For Jess, the coming summer holds passion; for Talún the hope that he has at last found someone who truly cares for him.

But as autumn approaches, a dark shadow from Jess’s past returns, bringing far-reaching and unwanted changes for both of them.

 

EXTRACT ONE – TAKEN FROM CHAPTER 1

Jess, her father Leo and boyfriend Zac are with her uncle Rufus who is showing them over the pub he has just bought in the South Devon village of Lynbrook

Jess followed the others towards the back of the lounge and through a half-glass door where a narrow passageway led to the bar. She stopped and stared at this very different world they had stepped into. The large square room had a flagstone floor and scrub-topped tables; a wall of assorted sepia photographs giving it the atmosphere of a time long gone. To her left there was a huge stone fireplace similar to the one in the lounge, where flames licked greedily over thick, fat logs. Rufus had been right; it would be a huge mistake to change any of this.

Behind the copper edged bar, warm light glowed off the optics and the place buzzed with cheerful conversation – raised voices with the occasional burst of laughter and clink of glasses. Yes, this had all the ingredients of a comfortable, rural, social cocoon occupied by a mixture of wellington or boot-clad locals, most sporting wax jackets or sheepskin coats. Heads turned, conversations halted and glasses hovered halfway to mouths as the four emerged into the bar. A few eyed them curiously; others gave an acknowledging nod or verbal greeting to Rufus as they passed through. Although he had not yet taken over the pub, it appeared many already knew him. He stopped at the end of the bar for more introductions and another quick chat. After a few moments he stepped towards the door indicating they were about to leave and they departed to a flurry of raised hands and goodbyes.

‘I’m thinking of having a welcoming party,’ Rufus said, stopping to hunt for his keys as they crossed the car park. ‘I’ve decided it would be a great way to break the ice properly and for them to get to know me. They seem a friendly lot but I know how apprehensive villagers can be about change. But I’ll be bringing good change and I think it’s something they’ll realise when I’ve had a chance to tell them my plans.’

‘You be careful they don’t see you as a soft touch,’ Leo warned, somewhat smugly. ‘These country types can be crafty bastards.’

Jess held her tongue, blowing out an angry breath instead. She waited while Zac opened the rear door of her uncle’s Volvo Estate and then eagerly slipped inside. As he joined her and slammed the door, a maroon Land Rover Defender swept into the car park and pulled up next to them. A solid, middle-aged, balding man emerged from the driver’s seat. Dressed in overalls, a battered wax jacket and with mud-splattered wellingtons on his feet, he levered a worn, tweed cap onto the top of his halo of brown hair before raising a hand in greeting.

As he slammed the door, another younger figure materialised from the passenger seat. Tall, with thick, black, wind-teased hair falling untidily over his collar, he made such a compelling sight that Jess felt unable to tear her eyes away. Pulling on a well-worn wax jacket, he stood for a moment appraising the small group. His penetrating gaze settled on her father and uncle, making her aware of arched brows over smoky brown eyes and a firm mouth that angled slightly upwards at each corner – something that told her he probably owned a killer smile. The swathe of shadowy stubble which graced his jaw put the finishing touches to his dark gypsy looks, giving him the brooding quality of a Bronte hero.

The older man smiled and began a conversation with Rufus, who indicated her father to his right. Nodding a greeting to Leo, he then beckoned to his young colleague to join them. Farmers, Jess decided, noticing his dress mirrored the older man’s, although from the condition of the jumper he wore – which seemed more darns than garment – he resembled a…

‘What’s that? The local scarecrow?’ Zac’s warm breath on her cheek interrupted her thoughts as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. ‘No, wait a minute, it’s a farm boy, isn’t it?’ He pressed his lips to her cheek and nuzzled her gently.

‘Scarecrow? Farm boy? That’s an appalling thing to say.’ She twisted her head to look at him.

‘Sorry,’ he said, in the kind of tone that indicated appeasement rather than apology, his lips briefly brushing hers.

Jess turned her face away from Zac and gazed out of the window only to find the subject of their conversation staring directly at them. For the briefest moment his eyes met hers, dark and expressionless. She attempted a smile but he simply drew a deep breath and turned away, a look of boredom on his face. No killer smile today then, she thought, feeling strangely disappointed as she watched him zip up his jacket. He said something to the older man before turning to make his way across the car park towards the pub. This seemed to draw Rufus’s conversation to a close and, with a friendly nod and a few parting words, the older man turned to follow his younger companion who now stood in the middle of the car park waiting for him.

‘Sorry for the delay,’ Rufus apologised, leaning back to look at Jess as he slipped behind the wheel and fastened his seat belt. ‘That’s George Selby; he farms on the edge of the village. Mostly dairy, some beef, and if you need a horse stabled he’s your man. His companion is Talún Hansen, he…’

‘A foreigner?’ Leo almost spat the words out as he climbed into the passenger seat. ‘Typical. Someone else here taking our jobs.’

‘Talún is English,’ came Rufus’s unusually sharp response. ‘He was born in this country. God, Leo, sometimes you are such a small minded bastard!’

Jess held her breath. Given the whole atmosphere of today’s outing, she guessed her normally easy-going uncle had at last run out of patience.

As Leo turned his head to respond, she noticed a slight pink stain had begun to creep into his cheeks. ‘Rufus…’ his tone, level and reprimanding held its normal condescending superiority, ‘…do you really think it’s appropriate to react quite so violently in front of Zac and Jess? Let’s not argue over such a trivial thing, eh?’

Rufus didn’t reply. Through the gap in the seat, Jess could see where his hands were gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white as he backed the car out of the parking space. Leo expelled a harsh breath and tilted his head back against the headrest. Jess felt Zac’s hand sneak over hers, his interlocking fingers giving hers a reassuring squeeze. She returned his gesture with an uneasy smile as they began moving forward.

As the car passed George Selby, she saw him raise a hand in farewell. Beside him, Talún stood watching them, his hands deep in the pockets of his wax jacket. Exiting the car park, she took one last opportunity to glance back at the pub, noticing both men had now disappeared into its interior, leaving her with the memory of dark windswept hair and a hard, measuring stare.

BUY LINKS:

 ️http://amzn.eu/fClL0V7 ️ http://a.co/6iMotg7

 

 

 

 

 

Just dropping in on this cold, snowy evening to confirm that book number nine is at last underway.  There’s been a lot going on at home at the moment which has to some extent delayed its start.  The biggest thing is my OH redecorating our bedroom which is right next door to the office where I write.  Usually he’s in the garage under the bonnet of his beloved MGB but the beginning of the New Year saw a plan to completely overhaul our room, redecorating and replacing furniture. In this case it’s short term inconvenience in exchange for a great new look.  The radio is on and he sings…badly.  As a consequence I’ve completely rescheduled my writing life.  During the time he’s got his decorating hat on, I sort out my social media, read, write reviews or take myself off to the kitchen to cook. Then in the evening when everything is quiet once more, I’m up here when hopefully the muse will be with me and the words will flow.

New books are always difficult.  By the time a novel is finished, characters are old friends.  Embarking on another project is like walking into a room full of strangers and not all of them are smiling at you.  As I think I mentioned before I’m setting the new book on the south coast of Cornwall.  Not saying too much at this stage but I’ve settled into the location quite well, now it’s all about getting my head around the characters.  I did have them sorted out, names, jobs, relationships, bios completed but as I began to write I could see there were some who weren’t going to be needed after all.  That’s the trouble with my writing, I have an idea and I begin.  I know the ending but everything else is, in parts, a bit of a journey of discovery. Names are changed and sometimes I even find myself modifying the role a certain character has in the story or even, as above, cutting them out altogether. There are probably writers who are holding up their hands in horror at the fact my planning is fairly loose, but hey! it works for me and I feel comfortable with it.

I soon began to realise that my starting point, those first few paragraphs which are so crucial when someone picks up a book and begins to read, weren’t working.  As is always the case, one of the best times of day for any positive creativity comes first thing each morning when I wake.  I think it’s all about the mind being clear then. Once you’re out of bed it’s all about what’s happening on that particular day and the things you need to do.  In those first quiet moments of each morning, writing is all I think about and for me it’s when the most inspirational stuff hits.  So now I’m 4,000 words in; a few steps forward in a new and exciting writing journey.  Wish me luck!