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Out Now – Love Through a Lens by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #romance #erorom #maytodecember

Love Through a LensBlurb:

Celine Patterson is a recent graduate eager to begin her career as a camerawoman—with the fashion world and all its glitz and glamour calling to her. Things aren’t that simple, however, and she’s forced to take a job making a documentary in the Peak District countryside with a mid-list British actor.

In spite of her initial disappointment—not only is the job not what she wanted, the pay is appalling, too—Celine warms to the project. The actor she’s working with, Edward Robson, is kind, considerate, funny and a consummate professional. She realizes she can learn a great deal from him, and resolves to do so.

As the days of the shoot pass by, Celine grows increasingly fond of Edward, and that fondness quickly goes beyond the platonic. Convinced her crush is completely one-sided—he’s over three decades her senior, for starters—she tries hard to ignore it, hoping the feelings will go away.

But then something happens to change Celine’s opinion, and flip her world upside-down. How will she react? And can she emerge from this project with both her career and her heart intact?

Note: Love Through a Lens has been previously released as part of the Sweet Sensations boxed set.

Buy links:

Amazon: http://viewbook.at/lovethroughalens

All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-lovethroughalens-1989937-153.html?referrer=6bdb1f9160564c0525b41f36e51861a0

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-through-a-lens-lucy-felthouse/1123478459?ean=2940152888836

iBooks UK: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/love-through-a-lens/id1088005149?mt=11

iBooks US: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/love-through-a-lens/id1088005149?mt=11

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/love-through-a-lens

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/617874?ref=cw1985

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29339082-love-through-a-lens

*****

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Excerpt:

Celine gritted her teeth and hung tightly onto the straps of her backpack as she forced one foot in front of the other up the steep incline. Her heart felt like it was going to explode from her chest, and her lungs screamed with the effort of providing her oxygen supply. Really, she needed to stop, to catch her breath, regain some equilibrium. But Edward was already way ahead of her, striding powerfully along as though their chosen path were perfectly flat. He had a huge backpack of his own, too, which didn’t seem to be slowing him down a jot.

But then, this was the difference between the two of them—or one of the differences, anyway. Edward Robson, mid-list British actor, was also a very keen outdoorsman, and probably did these kinds of walks all the time—with or without a camera being pointed at him.

Celine Patterson, however, was a different story altogether. Newly graduated from university, she’d struggled to find filming work in her preferred field—fashion—and so she’d had to cast her net wider. Incredibly wide, as it happened.

With hindsight, it was easy to see why she’d gotten the job with Edward—nobody else had wanted it. Not a damn soul. Traipsing around the Peak District wasn’t so bad, but add in heavy camera equipment, camping gear, food, clothing, maps, plans, GPS unit, satellite phone and makeup—for Edward, not for her—and a nice walk suddenly became a grueling trek. The money was poor, too, especially considering she was the only member of Edward’s crew. Could a single person even be called a crew? Or was she just a dogsbody?

She’d had no choice. It was this job or nothing. Crap money or no money. And, most importantly, this credit on her CV or no credit at all. She knew she had to start racking the credits and references up soon, if she wanted to get ahead in the highly competitive field.

So here she was, dragging herself up a heart attack inducing hill in the wake of an actor-cum-presenter. At least the project was interesting; they were checking out sites of myths, legends and ghost stories, that kind of thing. Edward was nice, too—kind, polite and pretty funny. Even better, it wasn’t raining. Overall, things could be a damn sight worse. She could be working with animals or children—or even both. And she’d heard many times over that they were the absolute worst.

She was still convincing herself that things weren’t that bad after all, when she glanced up and came to an abrupt halt as she realized there was a crotch practically in her face. Snapping her head up so fast it made her neck hurt, she made eye contact with Edward, who was standing a couple of paces farther up the slope, hence the awkward face-to-crotch angle. Her already hot face blazed with embarrassment. For once, she hoped the fact she was overheated would hide her mortification. The slight breeze that blew was doing nothing to lower her temperature.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller) and Eyes Wide Open (an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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NEW STORY! The Psychology of Dreams 101

I’m certainly empty nesting now that In The Flesh has come to an end. I had planned a few weeks off Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_bwith just stories and snippets from the archives posted before I began anything major, but my Muse clearly had other ideas.

No, I didn’t dream it, but it bubbled up from somewhere last night about an hour before bedtime, so today I have the first episode of a new serial, literally just finished minutes ago. The Psychology of Dreams 101, is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Chapter 1

 

You look beautiful when you dream.

 

That was the first sentence; that was how it all started. Leah thought it might be some sort of lucid dreaming when she saw the words scrawled across the page of her open journal on the nightstand. She’d had every intention of asking her instructor about it, but then she couldn’t really tell him the dream that had brought it on, could she? It sounded like the sort of thing the unconscious of a pathetically shy introvert would write to herself from the dream world because no one in the waking world would and, while that might be true – the pathetic introvert part, she didn’t want to make it more obvious to her instructor than it probably already was – especially when she had half a crush on him. Besides, it also sounded like the sort of thing a sex-crazed slut might write to herself when her vibe batteries ran down. That made her sound even more pathetic – the vibe and the batteries part, not the slut part.

Dreams image 2IMG_0351She had just started a course on the psychology of dreams. She tried to take advantage of the adult education classes whenever possible. It got her out of the house and forced her to interact with other people – real flesh and blood people. With her job, online shopping, online banking, direct debit, grocery delivery, she never had to leave the house really, and that suited her just fine, but she knew it shouldn’t. She knew it wasn’t healthy. Sometimes going to the classes was more of an ordeal than a pleasure, but that was not the case for the psychology of dreams class.

She had to admit, she’d taken that course because she’d overheard several women giggling and talking about how hot the instructor was and how their dreams had become very sexy since they’d started his class. A part of the class work was to keep a dream journal. The women had been sitting at the table next to her in the coffee shop pouring over their journals together and laughing about how they thought Al — Al Foster was the instructor – would respond when he read their dreams. She’d been taking a photography course then, and it had been one of the few times Leah had actually forced herself to initiate conversation, asking the women about the class. They were only too happy to share, and soon she was laughing and blushing and joking right along with them as they told her all about the psychology of dreams course and how it had truly stimulated their dream life. The next term, she signed right up.

A dream journal — that had sounded simple enough when Al – he’d insisted they all call him Al – had explained what it was. All she had to do was write down her dreams every morning when she woke up. But by the time she sat down at the breakfast table with her bowl of cereal and her coffee, dream journal and pen at the ready, she could remember nothing but bits of broken images — nothing dramatic, nothing with hidden psychological meaning – certainly nothing sexy. After a week of drawing blanks from the dream world, Al had helpfully suggested that she keep the journal open by her bed, and that she set an alarm for every two hours. When the alarm went off, she was then to write, just in a few key words of what she remembered, words that would jog her memory in the morning.

The first time the alarm went off, she woke disoriented and confused. By the time she remembered why she’d set the alarm, she also remembered she’d forgot to set the trash out for pick-up. She remembered that she needed to order some more vitamins online. She remembered that she needed to put the clothes in the dryer, but what she didn’t remember was her dreams. The second alarm, she must have unconsciously shut off before she got fully awake, but on the third, she managed a little dream snippet about chasing a big dog through the local McDonalds, a dog who had shamelessly stolen her Big Mac right out of her hand. She hated Big Macs, and big dogs made her nervous. Well that was at least something to analyze, wasn’t it? Though Freud had insisted that sometimes a cigar was just a cigar, surely that didn’t hold true for Big Macs, which she didn’t like, and big dogs, which she didn’t trust. Al would be pleased.

The second night there was a dream about a leather jacket with a huge snake for a collar, a snake that 7401867966b49d9e25e799def0c09daetalked — kind of like a parrot. There was a dream in which she’d gone to the supermarket and ended up in a maze unable to find her way out. There was a dream of planting begonias in front of the convenience store around the corner. For the rest of the week, she was excited to see that the setting of the alarms was working. Her key words helped her to remember details, and the rest was easy.

Saturday night she’d stayed up late watching a romcom marathon. She’d had popcorn, polished off the best part of a bottle of wine and there had been plenty of chocolate while she watched The Ugly Truth, Sabrina, Friends with Benefits, and When Harry Met Sally. She loved romcoms. They made her feel like there was someone for everyone, and though she wasn’t unhappy being alone, she liked the thought that somewhere out there, her counterpart was thinking the same thing.

She fell asleep halfway through Sleepless in Seattle, and when she woke up and stumbled off to bed, she’d forgot to set her dream alarms, though in truth she was beginning to remember her dreams more easily now, just as Al had said she would.

Perhaps it was OD-ing on romcoms that caused her to have sexy dream about Al. In truth they were mostly just images, disjointed, arousing, sometimes shameful images – images of walking into his office and finding him masturbating, images of somehow ending up in the men’s locker room at the gym and finding him in the shower, steamy water pulsing over strong arms and a tight ass as he hunched over himself paying particular attention to the soaping of his junk. There was one dream, however, that she remembered vividly. Al sat behind his desk in the empty classroom, clad in his usual polo shirt and jeans. He had asked her to stay after. “I’m not happy with your dream journal, Leah,” he said, looking her up and down. She suddenly felt naked, embarrassed, and dreams being what they were, well she had good reason. She wore only red lace underwear that was nearly transparent; certainly they did nothing to disguise her heavy nipples. “When are you going to learn that all you have to do is just relax and let it happen?”

“I try, Al, really I do, but I just can’t seem to dream about you.”

“Then perhaps you need a little encouragement.” He stood and pulled his belt from its loops around his waist all the while raking her with a critical gaze. “If I lay a few bright pink welts across your nice round ass, do you think maybe when you lie down in bed tonight, when your poor tender bottom touches those clean rough sheets, you might manage to remember me in your dreams?”

“Yes. Yes, I think that might help,” she said. Fuck! What was she thinking? How could she agree to such a thing? And yet, she did, most heartily she did.

Before she could say more, or rethink the arrangement, he yanked her around the desk, dropped back into the chair and pulled her over his knees. He all but tore her panties off her and she woke screaming and begging just as the first lash fell. For a moment she lay in the darkness gasping for breath, struggling with the strange mix of emotions that came from wanting the man to spank her and yet not, but certainly wishing she could go back to sleep and finish the dream. She was wet with sweat and, was she imagining it, or did her bottom actually hurt? She was definitely not imaging her state of arousal. There would be no returning to the dream world until she could make herself a little more comfortable, and that meant fantasizing about just what Al would do after he’d finished spanking her. It didn’t take her long to bring herself over the edge, and then she fell almost instantly back to sleep.

It was the morning sun streaming through the curtains she forgot to close that woke her, disappointed that Al Foster had not returned to her dreamscape, though he had, nonetheless, provided her with a good orgasm. Certainly she couldn’t’ write any of those dreams in her journal. She might have to start a private journal just for sexy dreams – assuming this wasn’t a one-off. God, she hoped this wasn’t a one-off.

As she sat up on the edge of her bed and stretched, she noticed the dream journal open with the pen america-artist-art-paintings-prints-note-cards-by-howard-chandler-christy-nude-women-reading-approximate-original-size-18x16lying across the page, which read:

You look beautiful when you dream. It was a good dream, the kind you don’t want to wake up from. At last, Leah, you’re doing it right! You can always tell when you do it right by the way your nipples bead beneath the sheet, by the way your lips turned up at the corners, slightly parted as though waiting to be kissed. And, take a sniff, Leah. Your scent is the scent of dreams well dreamed, luscious and ripe. Well done, Leah! Well done!

There was no doubt the writing was her own, though way neater than most of the scrawl she’d written at speed. The thing was, she had no memory of writing it.

 

Out Now – Moondancing by Celia J Anderson (@celiaanderson1) #romance #contemporary #ebook

MoondancingBlurb:

Together since their teens, Molly and Jake have four children, a house in a sleepy village and jobs that bore them to distraction. Their marriage is an accident waiting to happen. When Nick arrives in Mayfield, young, disturbed and in desperate need of mother-love, Molly doesn’t realise that he will be the catalyst that blows everything apart. Add a headmaster whose wife doesn’t understand him and Molly’s unpredictable, frustrated best friend to the mix, and the blue touch paper has been well and truly lit.

Buy links: http://celiajanderson.co.uk/books/moondancing/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27841152-moondancing

 

Excerpt:

‘But who’s going to do our lunch if Mum’s staying in bed?’ asks Max.

‘If people need things putting in boxes, they’ll have to find them and put them in themselves for once,’ says Jake through gritted teeth, as he tries to make toast, unload the dishwasher, find clean socks for Hattie’s netball match and avoid the small pile of cat-sick by the table leg. He sighs and mops up the squelchy mess on the floor before Theo spreads it around the kitchen with her big boots.

It’s only the third day of term so the foolproof system for school mornings hasn’t kicked in yet. Even the two kittens look offended, meowing around Theo’s feet as she rifles through her schoolbag for her lost homework.

Jake feels as if he’s dropped into some alien, much less relaxing world. His early morning routine usually involves sitting at the kitchen table drinking strong coffee and keeping some kind of order while Molly dashes around serving up milky tea, bacon sandwiches, and muesli. As she cling-films sandwiches, throws yogurts and chocolate biscuits into plastic bags and sorts out last-minute crises, she talks him through the day ahead. She likes him to know what’s going on.

Theo still hasn’t found her homework. Jake and Molly’s eldest daughter is reasonably chilled, as a rule, but today she’s in a filthy mood. Her form tutor has given a final warning that if anyone else comes to school with purple streaks in their hair, he’ll make them wear his grey woolly hat to lessons. Theo’s managed to cover the offending bit of her fringe with black poster paint, having run out of dye, but she knows if it rains things could go badly wrong.

Jake can hear Theo muttering as she abandons the homework search and opens a tin of food for the yowling kittens, gashing her finger in the process, and bleeding all over Sam’s newly-made tuna sandwiches. She spits out all the rudest words she knows, and so does Sam, which makes Hattie run round the table screaming, ‘He said the “F” word, Dad, and she said “bugger”.’

Jake’s patience, never his strong point, runs out. ‘At your age,’ he thunders, ‘me and my little brother did all the chores for our mum before breakfast, went to school without moaning, and then came back and did our paper rounds. We weren’t spoiled like you lot – you’re all an absolute disgrace.’

Theo pulls herself up to her full five feet four inches. She hasn’t been allowed to have a paper round due to Molly’s fear of possible rapists and muggers on the loose. It’s a peaceful village normally, but there’s a first for everything.

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Author Bio:

Celia J Anderson loves cake, champagne and her family, although not in that order. Moondancing is the first book she ever completed but it needed a couple of years relaxing in the cupboard before it was ready to be revamped to follow Sweet Proposal, Little Boxes and Living the Dream out into the world.

One eighth of the Romaniacs, to be found at  https://theromaniacgroup.wordpress.com, Celia regularly blogs with this sparkling group of writers who support each other through the journey to publishing and beyond. Her ultimate aims are to spend less time on Facebook, have a few less chins and to walk five miles a day – she feels the three may be connected…

http://celiajanderson.co.uk

https://www.facebook.com/CeliaJAndersonAuthor

http://www.twitter.com/celiaanderson1

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Out Now – Sweet Sensations: A Boxed Set of Sensual Contemporary Romances #romance #erotica #ku #kindleunlimited

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EIGHT AWESOME CONTEMPORARY ROMANCES BY AWARD-WINNING, Bestselling Authors

Available to buy exclusively from Amazon, or to read as part of the Kindle Unlimited programme: http://getbook.at/sweetsensations

In the Cards, by Lynn LaFleur

Catherine found her fantasy man stepping out of a greeting card…Can love break a curse put on Kane centuries ago, and bring him to her forever, this time?

Love Me Forever, by USA TODAY bestseller, Ari Thatcher

Lovers for one idyllic summer, he said he’d call but never did…

When the laid-back billionaire and the new divorcee meet again by chance, can they rekindle a summer love to last forever?

A Patchwork Romance, by Ann Jacobs

A self-made billionaire, Jared has come home to the Smoky Mountains, looking for an elusive something that’s missing from his life…Will he find it in the arms of Althea, a simple country quiltmaker?

Major Pleasure, by Denise A. Agnew

Jemma has always wanted Blayne, but his army career makes her afraid to give her heart…

Will love let her overcome her fear, and commit to forever with the hot Special Forces officer?

Escaping the Past, by L. M. Connolly

His shady past, her present danger, and an international plot bring Jade and GARY together…

Can love thrive as they dodge bullets from New York to Naples and beyond?

A riveting tale of romantic suspense, never before published.

Love Through a Lens, by Lucy Felthouse

On location shooting film together, new graduate, Celine, is drawn to Edward, a British actor 30 years her senior…

Can the inevitable romance between them blossom into love?

A heartwarming original novella, never before published.

Loving a Go-Go, by Anh Leod

Lexie, an heiress, finds her match in fellow boot fetishist, Adrian, who sells shoes in her family’s store…

Can a sexy romp during the holidays lead to a lasting relationship between these two?

Cat’s Play, by Marilu Mann

In this sexy game of cat’s play, a thief and a billionaire make some interesting discoveries about each other…Will they learn things aren’t always exactly as they seem?

Available to buy exclusively from Amazon, or to read as part of the Kindle Unlimited programme: http://getbook.at/sweetsensations

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An excerpt from Love Through a Lens by Lucy Felthouse:

Celine gritted her teeth and hung tightly onto the straps of her backpack as she forced one foot in front of the other up the steep incline. Her heart felt like it was going to explode from her chest, and her lungs screamed with the effort of providing her oxygen supply. Really, she needed to stop, to catch her breath, regain some equilibrium. But Edward was already way ahead of her, striding powerfully along as though their chosen path were perfectly flat. He had a huge backpack of his own, too, which didn’t seem to be slowing him down a jot.

But then, this was the difference between the two of them—or one of the differences, anyway. Edward Robson, mid-list British actor, was also a very keen outdoorsman, and probably did these kinds of walks all the time—with or without a camera being pointed at him.

Celine Paterson, however, was a different story altogether. Newly graduated from university, she’d struggled to find filming work in her preferred field—fashion—and so she’d had to cast her net wider. Incredibly wide, as it happened.

With hindsight, it was easy to see why she’d gotten the job with Edward—nobody else had wanted it. Not a damn soul. Traipsing around the Peak District wasn’t so bad, but add in heavy camera equipment, camping gear, food, clothing, maps, plans, GPS unit, satellite phone and makeup—for Edward, not for her—and a nice walk suddenly became a grueling trek. The money was poor, too, especially considering she was the only member of Edward’s crew. Could a single person even be called a crew? Or was she just a dogsbody?

She’d had no choice. It was this job or nothing. Crap money or no money. And, most importantly, this credit on her resumé or no credit at all. She knew she had to start racking the credits and references up soon, if she wanted to get ahead in the highly competitive field.

So here she was, dragging herself up a heart attack inducing hill in the wake of an actor-cum-presenter. At least the project was interesting; they were checking out sites of myths, legends and ghost stories, that kind of thing. Edward was nice, too—kind, polite and pretty funny. Even better, it wasn’t raining. Overall, things could be a damn sight worse. She could be working with animals or children—or even both. And she’d heard many times over that they were the absolute worst.

She was still convincing herself that things weren’t that bad after all, when she glanced up and came to an abrupt halt as she realized there was a crotch practically in her face. Snapping her head up so fast it made her neck hurt, she made eye contact with Edward, who was standing a couple of paces farther up the slope, hence the awkward face-to-crotch angle. Her already hot face blazed with embarrassment. For once, she hoped the fact she was overheated would hide her mortification. The slight breeze that blew was doing nothing to lower her temperature.

SweetSensations_2D“Are you all right?” he asked, his blue-green eyes soft with concern. “I’m so sorry, you must think me incredibly rude. I honestly thought you were right behind me—you being a young thing and all that. It was only when you didn’t reply to me or answer any of my questions that I realized I’d inadvertently left you behind.”

“I’m all right,” Celine replied, her chest heaving as she fought to regulate her breathing and slow down her heart rate while she had the chance. “Just not used to this sort of thing. A walk for me is a stroll by a riverbank, or hitting the shops. I’m sure my fitness level will improve as we continue with the project. Go ahead, if you like. I’ll catch up with you… eventually.”

Edward shook his head. “No, let’s have a rest. I could do with a drink and a snack.” Turning, he looked around, then pointed. “Let’s head there. It looks as though there’s a patch of flattish ground big enough for us both to sit down.”

“Okay.” She followed him again, but this time only for a few seconds. Edward helped her remove her rucksack—which was almost as big as she was—and then immediately opened it and began removing things. It was only when she saw he’d long since taken out the drinks and snacks that she queried what he was doing.

“I’m taking some of the heavier items out of your bag. If I re-jig things, we’ll still fit everything in, but you’ll have a lighter load. Would you mind making some tea for us both while I do this?” He indicated the miniature camping stove, metal cups and other tea-making paraphernalia.

“No, of course not,” she said. “But there’s no need for you to do that. I’m perfectly okay with carrying my share of the weight.”

“I know you are. But I’m not. You’ve enough to put up with on this crazy project. I don’t want you getting injured or ill on me—I need you. Not to mention my conscience wouldn’t take it.” He sat beside her, looked at the large pile he’d made, and began sorting it into their respective rucksacks.

Shaking her head, Celine lit the stove and set about making the hot drinks. “Sugar?”

“Yes, please. Three.”

She shot him a look. “Three?”

His eyes glinted with amusement. “Yes, three. What can I say, I like my tea sweet. And while we’re on this project I’ve got a good excuse—I need the energy. You should try it, it’s delicious.”

Wrinkling her nose, Celine nevertheless added three sugars to each of the mugs of tea. “Here you go.” She handed Edward his, then cradled hers, blowing on the liquid until it was cool enough to drink. “So, what did you mean when you said I’ve enough to put up with?”

Frowning, Edward took a gulp of his tea before replying. “I know this project isn’t ideal, Celine, not for you. For me, it’s wonderful—the melding together of several of my passions. But for you, it’s trekking through often unforgiving countryside with a shed load of gear and filming an old fart going on about big black cats, the ghosts of Roman soldiers and mysterious lights in the sky. And I know your wages aren’t very good, either. Believe me, if I could have offered you more, I would have.”

Gazing intently at the surface of the tea, she mumbled, “You’re not an old fart.”

Edward threw his head back and laughed loudly. The joyous sound rang across the lonely hillside for several long moments. Then he said, “But you’re not denying any of the rest of it!”

Lucy Felthouse Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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Out Now! Christmas at the Castle by Jenny Kane (@jennykaneauthor) #contemporary #romance #christmas #ku #kindleunlimited

Christmas at the CastleBlurb

Christmas at the Castle is a seasonal treat from Jenny Kane, featuring much-loved characters from her bestselling novel Another Cup of Coffee.

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…

Available to buy from Amazon, and to read as part of the Kindle Unlimited Programme: http://mybook.to/christmasatthecastle

 

Extract

Charlie pushed open the door of The Deeside Bookshop.

Instead of being greeted by John, she was surprised to see a much younger man behind the counter. Having never known the shop without John in it, Charlie was immediately concerned. ‘Um, hello, I wondered if I could speak to John, is he OK?’

‘He’s very OK, thank you. Soaking up the sun in New Zealand in fact.’

‘Oh.’ Not sure what to do, Charlie decided she’d dive straight in anyway. If John trusted this man to run the shop in his absence, then he must be alright. ‘Could I have a quick chat about the literary festival at Crathes? I know Ms Warren has already approached the shop, but I…’

The man, who Charlie guessed must be in his late thirties, ran an exasperated hand through his short hair. ‘I already told your colleague I can’t help. What Ms Warren is asking of me is not cost-effective. Although I wish you luck with the festival, the tactic of sending her prettier colleague to get me to change my mind is not going to work!’

Prettier colleague? Charlie felt thrown. No one ever thought she was prettier than Alice.

‘I assure you no… tactics are in play. I’m only helping out today because I’m a friend of one of the other organisers, and I have a more sensible and, I think, more realistic proposition for you than Alice did. I will tell you about it if you would like to hear it; if not, I’ll leave you in peace to stare around your customer-free shop!’

Rather taken aback by the edge to her tone, the tension in Charlie’s shoulders unknotted a little as, to her amazement, the man began to laugh.

Placing the books he’d been holding on the counter he said, ‘I’m sorry, forgive me for being abrupt. My name is Gervase Potter; I bought John out a few weeks ago. This little empire is now mine.’

Tilting his head to one side, giving Charlie the impression he was enjoying the view, he added, ‘I would very much like to hear your proposal. How about we discuss it tonight over a drink at Scott Skinner’s? I haven’t made it there yet, and I hear it’s a nice pub.’

With her brain privately grappling with the concept of being asked out for a drink by a handsome man who liked books, Charlie replied, ‘It is nice. I often go to Skinner’s to write when I need a change of scene from my desk at home. Oh, I’m Charlie, by the way. Charlie Davies.’

‘I’m pleased to meet you, Charlie. So, you write?’

‘Yes.’ Charlie pointed to the bookshelves, ‘I’m over there somewhere.’

‘You are? Who are you, then? I mean, who else are you?’

‘Erin Spence.’

The Unbrave Heart Erin Spence?’

Charlie’s pulse started to beat faster. He didn’t immediately connect me with The Love-Blind Boy. ‘Yes. Yes that was my first novel.’

‘I love that book.’

‘You’ve read it?’ Charlie was shocked. ‘Forgive me, but you don’t look like you’d be into women’s fiction.’

‘I’m not as a rule, but my ex-girlfriend had the audiobook and we played it on a long journey once or twice. I enjoyed it. You have a very perceptive view of the male side of things.’

‘Really?’ Charlie could feel herself blushing, ‘Thanks. It’s kind of you to say so.’

‘Not at all. That drink tonight, then? Eight o’clock? With a meal as well, maybe?’

‘To talk about my idea for the festival?’

‘I’m making no promises, because I think I’d rather talk about you.’

Charlie’s head buzzed with contradictory thoughts. Had she been right to agree to go out with Gervase? Only this morning she’d been thinking about how she felt about Cameron being back, and now she was going on a date with someone else. A part of her knew she’d only said yes in the hope that Alice and Cameron might see them. But so what if they did? Cameron isn’t going to be jealous, and I don’t want him any more anyway. And Alice wouldn’t notice in her current mode if I walked around naked with a pineapple on my head.

A new thought entered Charlie’s head. Was there any point in going out with another man until Alice had gone home? Gervase would only have to see them standing next to each other, and it wouldn’t be her that he wanted to take for dinner anymore.

Suddenly, Charlie stopped moving. She knew she was being ridiculous, but somehow the thought of how Alice was always going to be there to eclipse her wouldn’t shift…

 

Bio

Jenny Kane is the author the contemporary romance Christmas at the Castle (Accent Press, 2015), the bestselling novel Abi’s House (Accent Press, 2015), the modern/medieval time slip novel Romancing Robin Hood (Accent Press, 2014), the bestselling novel Another Cup of Coffee (Accent Press, 2013), and its novella length sequels Another Cup of Christmas (Accent Press, 2013), and Christmas in the Cotswolds (Accent, 2014).

Jenny’s fourth full length romance novel, Another Glass of Champagne, will be published in 2016.

Jenny is also the author of quirky children’s picture books There’s a Cow in the Flat (Hushpuppy, 2014) and Ben’s Biscuit Tin (Coming soon from Hushpuppy)

Keep your eye on Jenny’s blog at www.jennykane.co.uk for more details.

Twitter- @JennyKaneAuthor

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/JennyKaneRomance

Jenny also writes erotica as Kay Jaybee.

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The Romance Reviews

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