Today I am super excited to be bringing you an extract from ‘Sea Holly and Mistletoe Kisses’. This is the third book in its series and I hope you all find it as interesting as I have!
Christmas is coming to Port Hewer and the hotel Penmarrow, where Maisie is suffering a case of the holiday blues far from home this year — until Gavin, a young American businessman staying at the hotel through Christmas, talks her into joining him as his partner in the hotel’s ice sculpting competition in a mutual pact to enjoy the holidays to the fullest.
Meanwhile, Maisie experiences the village Christmas season vicariously through Sidney, and continues writing her Poe-inspired story with only Sidney aware of her secret novel. She soon learns, however, that criticism and praise go hand in hand when he takes issue with her latest chapters, which puts pressure on their friendship, too.
But is that what’s really the issue between them? Because handsome Gavin has more than ice sculpting in mind when it comes to Maisie’s time, which comes as a surprise to no one who’s seen them together. As Maisie faces this sudden romantic dilemma, she realizes what she wants most in her life … and faces a question of what her heart wants most, too.
Purchase Link: https://smarturl.it/seahollyandmistletoe
I’m very happy to be sharing an extract from my newest romance release with the readers at FNM today! Book Three in my series ‘A Little Hotel in Cornwall’, it is a cosy Christmas read that finds the heroine Maisie caught up in an ice sculpting competition at the historic hotel where she works as a chambermaid. In the scene below, Maisie’s friend and fellow hotel maid, Molly, is being trained for a promotion to the role of desk clerk—only it isn’t going as well as anybody hoped for!
“When guests arrive, we smile and greet them, then we inquire if they have a reservation or need a room booked. Here’s the icon for reservations —” Brigette touched a square on the computer’s screen, “— and here’s the one showing all available and registered rooms.”
“What does this one do?” Molly pointed to another.
“No need to worry about it for the time being,” said Brigette, moving the pointing finger away from the program in question. “These are the ones you’re concerned with for the moment. Here we go – your first guest.” She ushered Molly forward as the hotel’s front entrance admitted someone new. A guest, if the luggage in the hands of the man clad in an old wool coat and knit hat was any indication, although he had the look of free-spirited backpackers in summertime … or, if one were perfectly honest, maybe resembling a little more the transients hitchhiking along American highways.
“Welcome to The Penmarrow Hotel,” said Molly, a trifle too brightly. “Are you new – that is, are you staying with us for the first time?”
“I am, actually.” The young man set down his luggage, which consisted of a heavy-looking knapsack, leather shoulder satchel, and an odd-looking hard shell case that looked like one for a trombone or some other large musical instrument. “George Varton.” He pulled off his hat and extended his hand to Molly, with a friendly smile for this unconventional approach to booking a hotel room. I noticed the intense blue of his eyes – a striking shade that was impossible to miss, since it illuminated his face’s narrow features, and seemed even more lively than his shock of light brown hair which rose and fell above his forehead with the unruly grace of river weeds.
“Molly,” she answered, shaking hands with him, shyly. A little reminder cough from Brigette wiped away the maid’s smile as she gave a jump of remembrance. “Yes, uh, would you – would you like a room?” She caught Brigette’s eye with an apologetic gaze.
“Do you have any available on the topmost floor, with a nice open view?”
“Um … I’ll look.” Molly clicked a button on the hotel’s computer – the wrong one. “Won’t be a moment,” she assured him, as she clicked a different one. An internet browser window opened.
“Oops,” she said. “Um – Brigette – how do I –?” She didn’t finish the question, since the former desk manager had swept in to close the extra programs and open the hotel’s room registry.
“The suite on the west end of the hotel is available,” said Brigette. “It’s one of our larger suites, somewhat more expensive than the single ones. Will it be satisfactory?”
The young man looked slightly disappointed at the words ‘large’ and ‘expensive,’ nevertheless he removed his wallet from his pocket and handed a charge card to Molly. “I’ll have the room,” he said.
“Certainly.” She swiped it, and an alarm went off from the charge machine. “I’m sorry – it’s not your card, it’s me,” she assured George hastily, as Brigette hit a series of computer keys which prompted silence again.
“You have to fill out the registry link first,” she reminded her. “Then link it to the charge card.”
“Right,” said Molly, putting her bright smile in place again. “If you’ll simply answer a few questions for our registry record,” she said, this time clicking the correct application. “Oh – and sign the book,” she added, shoving the open physical registry across the desk with more haste and less grace than usual. “Here’s a pen.” She dug one from a can of random ones beneath the desk, instead of using the ornamental one that was clipped to the book’s edge.
A pained look entered Brigette’s eyes momentarily, a little wince from the back of her throat as she shut them for a second to collect herself. In our newest guest’s glance, a look of gentle amusement as he signed his name on the blank line.
About the Author
Laura Briggs is the author of several feel-good romance reads, including the Top 100 Amazon UK seller ‘A Wedding in Cornwall’. She has a fondness for vintage style dresses (especially ones with polka dots), and reads everything from Jane Austen to modern day mysteries. When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with family and friends, caring for her pets, gardening, and seeing the occasional movie or play.
Social Media Links –
Author Facebook: http://on.fb.me/1JjeMoI