Reading is something I have always enjoyed doing, be it curled up with a book on a raining day or reading a chapter before going to bed. Like most people I have authors I enjoy and read all their books but over the last two years I have started looking for new authors to read. Some of those authors have now become firm favorites. An author I discovered over the Summer was Phillipa Ashley. Within a few pages I knew I wanted to read more of her books.
However I would have to wait until October for a new book to be released that was unless I was happy to read a kindle book. For me I prefer paperbacks or hardbacks for I would just have to wait for the release date to read another of Phillipa Ashley’s books. But then a couple of weeks ago an email dropped into my inbox asking if I would like to be part of a blog tour for Phillipa Ashley’s new book, Christmas on the Little Cornish Isles: The Driftwood Inn, of course I jumped at the chance.
Along with twenty nine other bloggers I am bringing you an exclusive extract of Phillipa’s new book. My extract is from chapter Nine:
Sharp raps on the door made her jump.
Winter was coming and she needed every penny of revenue, didn’t she? She could open ten minutes early. She drew the bolts on the top and bottom as carefully as she could, then turned the key and lifted the latch.
‘Jesus Christ!’
‘Sorry to startle you.’ A handsome man about her own age, with blond, almost white hair, stood in the porch. He must have been waiting right in front of the door and Maisie had almost knocked him flying.
‘Hugo? What do you want?’
Hugo Scorrier held his laptop bag protectively in front of his privates. ‘Apologies for the early visit but I wanted a quick word before the inn opened. Basil! Bad dog! Stop that!’
At Hugo’s shout, Basil pulled his snout out of a patch of weeds topped by the remains of a rotting seagull. The Labrador’s coat glistened like wet coal and there was a green strand of weed stuck to his tail.
Hugo flashed an apologetic smile at Maisie. ‘Sorry, he may whiff a bit. He goes his own way, never listens to a word I tell him. I’ve been chasing the devil up and down the beach for ages.’
Clever Basil, thought Maisie, but answered Hugo as civilly as she could. ‘We open in ten minutes and I’m afraid I’m rather busy.’
‘I would have been here at ten,’ he said as Basil sniffed around the tables on the terrace, ‘if Basil hadn’t had other ideas involving seagulls and going AWOL.’
‘You should have phoned me to make an appointment.’
‘Well, I hadn’t planned on calling as such,’ said Hugo. ‘Not on you specifically, but I’ve been to the morning service at the chapel and had a coffee with a few of your neighbours afterwards. I thought I’d drop in on my way back to my boat.’
Maisie shivered in the cool morning air. Hugo wore olive cords, a waxed jacket and shiny brogues on his feet. He was like an apparition from another era. A very unwelcome one at that.
‘Can you spare five minutes?’ he asked.
‘Who’s that, love?’ Hazel shouted from the bar.
‘It’s Hugo Scorrier, Mum. We’re just having a very quick chat.’
‘Oh, shit.’
The extract has certainly got me wanting to read more, if it has for you too why not visit the other bloggers joining in the blog tour and read their extracts.
Thanks for hosting the tour stop and sharing the extract, Rebecca. 🙂