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Title: The Girl Who Came Home to Cornwall
Series: Tremarnock, Book 5
Author: Emma Burnstall
Genre: Contemporary Fiction
Pub. Date: December 5, 2019
Published & Hosted by: Head of Zeus
Add to #Goodreads TBR ↓
#BuyLinks ↓
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2YynbFx
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/32DVfAK
Kobo: https://bit.ly/2NVeqCg
Google Play: https://bit.ly/2ZSUWV4
iBooks: https://apple.co/32KO7D5
Blurb ↓
Escape to the Cornish coast with a new heartwarming Tremarnock novel, perfect for fans of Jill Mansell and Philippa Ashley.
In the quaint Cornish village of Tremarnock, Chabela Penhallow arrives for a holiday and to discover more about her Cornish ancestors. But, as always with newcomers to the small seaside town, rumours start to fly about this beautiful stranger. Is there more to her than meets the eye?
Meanwhile, Rob and Liz Hart's marriage is on the rocks, but only one of them knows the real reason. Once the secret is out, will they be able to handle the repercussions or will it destroy their life together?
For the residents of Tremarnock, the revelations will either bond or break them – forever.
'A charming, warm-hearted read ... Pure escapism' ALICE PETERSON.
'The literary equivalent of a gin and tonic on a hot summer's day ... A delicious, delightful and decadent tale' BOOKISH JOTTINGS.
EXTRACT ↓
Rick adjusted the postcard display outside his gift shop, wondering idly if customers would mind about the odd dog-eared corner and dirty smudge. He hoped not. Some of his cards had certainly seen better days but there was nothing wrong with the photos on the front of the stunning Cornish coastline, whitewashed fishermen’s cottages and quaint cobbled streets.
Trouble was, folk didn’t seem to send so many cards these days; they stuck their pictures on Facebook and the like instead. Shame.
He could still remember how his mother, long since gone, had given pride of place on her mantelpiece to the cards she’d received; she’d read them over and over, sometimes out loud with an annoying running commentary thrown in: ‘Uncle Graham and Auntie Maeve have gone to Mallorca this year. Fancy that! It was the Costa Brava last year, and the year before. I expect they wanted a change of scenery…’; and, ‘The hotel looks nice. I hope that pool’s heated, otherwise if I know Maeve, she won’t be setting foot in it!’
A sudden gust sent the multicoloured windmills in a bucket by Rick’s feet swirling around and light caught the shiny foil, making him blink. It was the first Saturday in June, sunny and bright, but the air was still cool, especially at night when you needed a sweater.
A few postcards fluttered off the rotating display stand that he carried from his shop, Treasure Trove, every morning, and placed on the uneven cobbles. As he knelt down to gather them together, something made him turn to look over his shoulder up narrow, winding South Street past the rows of shops and cottages that led to Humble Hill.
At first all he could make out was a moving mass of colour – canary yellow with splashes of emerald, pillar-box red and royal blue. He narrowed his eyes and as the image came into focus, he started, nearly knocking the display stand flying, and had to steady himself against the wall. ‘What the…?’
Sashaying towards him, in a swishing yellow skirt with a bright green pattern, was the most attractive woman that he thought he’d ever seen. From his squatting position he scanned quickly upwards, taking in her strappy red espadrilles, shapely calves, slim waist and generous bust, encased in a tight blue cardigan. He had to pinch himself to make sure that he wasn’t daydreaming.
She paused for a moment, bending down to retie the laces on her shoes. She was flesh and blood, for sure, no figment of his imagination. When she stood up again, his gaze settled on her face, but from this distance all he could really see was red lipstick, a creamy-brown complexion, dark eyebrows and thick, wavy, shoulder-length black hair.
He whistled under his breath. She was getting nearer now, just a few metres away. There was no one else in the street and fearing that she might notice him bent double and gawping, he looked away quickly and stood upright, pretending to rearrange his postcards. Every now and then, however, he couldn’t help darting furtive glances in her direction and the closer she came, the more his heart pitter-pattered. He didn’t know what had come over him.
Emma Burstall was a newspaper journalist in Devon and Cornwall before becoming a full time author. Tremarnock, the first novel in her series set in a delightful Cornish village, was published in 2015 and became a top-10 bestseller.
Author Links ↓
Twitter: @EmmaBurstall
Facebook: @EmmaBurstallAuthor
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