Today the Chic Boutique blog tour stops by and I have a small extract from the book to tease you with ;-)
The perfect escape to the country…
Recently single and tired of the London rat race Amanda is determined to make her dreams of setting up an idyllic countryside boutique come true, and the picturesque village of West¬field is the perfect place to
make a fresh start.
Local vet Ben is the golden boy of West¬field, especially to resident gossip Agatha Mayweather, who is determined to help Ben get his life back together after his wife left.
When a chance encounter outside the ‘chic boutique’ sets sparks flying between Amanda and Ben, Agatha is itching to set them up. But are Amanda and Ben really ready for romance?
The Chic Boutique on Baker Street is the debut novel from Rachel Dove, winner of The Prima Flirty Fiction Competition. You won’t be able to resist this heart-warming romantic story set in an idyllic Yorkshire village, full of lovable characters and laugh-out-loud moments…as Amanda finds her way to a second chance at life and love. This is the reading escape you’ve been looking for!
About the Author
Rachel Dove is the proud winner of the 2015 Flirty Fiction Competition with Prima Magazine and Mills & Boon. Ecstatic to have her novel chosen out of 300 others, Rachel is now a full-time writer and looks forward to writing her next book. When she is not writing, she can be found raising her sons or curled up under a blanket with a book.
Extract
Amanda stared up at the dark wood beam, pondering whether a strip of pale yellow taffeta ribbon would be robust enough as a makeshift noose.
She shook her head, banishing the futile thoughts, and started to clear off the workspace of her new venture when she heard the shutter from next door’s shop go up. The metallic clang reminded her that next door had left their advertising boards out the night before. She picked it up on her way to the shop front. New Lease of Life had only been open for a week or so, and her next-door neighbour, ‘Shampooched’, had not been the ideal business colleague. The twenty-something pink-haired rock enthusiast who worked there was not the friendliest person Amanda had ever encountered, but Amanda didn’t want to make waves, being new to town and living above the shop and all. She took a deep breath and walked backwards into the shop, clasping the heavy A-board, a blackboard detailing their opening times.
‘Hey, Tracy, you seem to have left this out . . . er again . . . so . . .’
Amanda was blocked from walking any further by a wall. Squeaking in surprise, she promptly dropped the A-board onto her own foot, this morning clad in soft green ballet pumps, of all things.
‘Owww, son of a b—’
She was tumbling towards the concrete tiled floor, and a bruised bum to boot, when the wall moved and caught her in its grasp. Her words caught in her throat as she gazed up into a pair of steely grey eyes. She found herself smiling despite her embarrassment.
‘I am so sorry, are you OK?’
The man was staring at her with a mixture of concern and amusement. Amanda’s eyes flitted from his chiselled jaw to his full bow lips, and travelled down to his tanned, muscular neck, and his chest, which was encased in a simple black T-shirt. She loved watching the lips move. The movements stopped and Amanda frowned, disappointed. It was then she realised that the lips were attached to an actual person, a person who was waiting for an answer to whatever question these lips had formed.
What is wrong with you?
A voice, soft and cracking with what Amanda thought might be suppressed laughter, broke through the awkward silence.
‘I said, did you hit your head?’ he asked.
Amanda shook her head. ‘Er . . . no, no, just banged it a little. Sorry!’
Looking down at her right shoe, she saw crimson staining the mint green canvas of her pump. He followed her gaze, frowning.
‘I’m Ben. Just stay sat there a sec, I’ll get a chair and the first aid kit.’
Amanda nodded mutely, feeling a little cheated that the moment had passed, and more than a little embarrassed of her own behaviour. Seriously, woman, you used to command the attention of courtrooms, a bloke in a shop trips you up, and you lose it!