Author Archives: Jane Cable

SUNDAY SCENE: KATE G SMITH ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM THE LOVE NOTE

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I grew up in Norfolk, so setting The Love Note here felt natural to me. It’s a beautiful county with rural villages and easy access to the vast stretches of glorious coastline.

Based in a fictional Norfolk village, The Love Note follows my main character, Maggie, as she sets about sorting the family home after her mother’s death. There, Maggie finds her mother’s wedding dress—which she’d been told was missing—and hidden inside are love letters written in French.

Maggie enlists the help of Nick, an old school crush, to help her decipher the letters and hopefully find her missing father. And one of my favourite scenes is where Nick asks for a favour in return.

He picks Maggie up in a battered old Volvo

‘So,’ I say, clicking my belt on, ‘where are we heading and what’s the big secret?’

Nick laughs and throws his arm over my seat to reverse back out onto the quiet country lane.

‘No secret,’ he says, his tongue between his teeth as he concentrates, ‘If there’s one thing you need to know about me, Maggie, it’s that I’m not a massive social communicator. No social media, very few texts.’

Nick winds down his window and I do the same. It’s the first week of September and the air is thick with the dust left behind from the combine harvesters. It whips through the car, sending my hair flapping all over the place.

As they drive on, Nick explains to Maggie that it’s his mum’s birthday, he needs help with the preparations, and they’re off to check out the venue.

He shifts gears and indicates to turn into an even smaller country lane where the grass verges seep onto the road and attack from both sides with long spindly fingers of soft wild wheat.

We park in front of an old barn with traditional Norfolk flint and red bricks which are somehow managing to hold themselves up despite their jaunty angle. A modern addition of floor-to-ceiling windows down one side give a view of the rustic interior.

When they head inside, Maggie gets carried away with ideas.

‘I can just imagine it lit up with a million fairy lights along the back wall, reflected in the window; tables with freshly picked wildflower bunches and candles in jars. I can picture your mum in a flower headdress like a giant daisy chain or a . . .’

I stop talking because in all my excitement of picturing the barn how I would love to see it, I realise I have no idea if Nick’s mum even likes flowers or if she gets bouts of hay fever that would mean she’d look like she was crying through her whole party if I cover the place in floral displays. Nick is staring at me, his face giving nothing away.

‘Sorry,’ I say, digging the toe of my ballet flat into a worn dip in the brick.

‘No, no that’s perfect. That’s exactly why you’re here.’ He is still watching me, and for a beat I watch him back.

He reaches into his pockets and hands me a small bag of pistachios.

He remembers.

I take them and thank him warily, remembering how I used to always have a bag of these with me at school to pick on throughout the day.

 

I love this scene, not only because I can lose myself in the Norfolk countryside, but also for the glimpse into the blossoming friendship between Nick and Maggie.

 

Find me in my Facebook group for writers https://www.facebook.com/groups/writingittoday

SUNDAY SCENE: LYNDA EDWARDS ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM FRIENDSHIP ESTATE

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My latest book, Friendship Estate, is set on the island of Jamaica, where I was born and raised.  In the late 1700s and early 1800s, the Caribbean Islands were at a crossroads.  The abolition of slavery was on the horizon.  In the colonies, the white and black races had been mixing for generations.  They had formed a new society with a culture born of oppression, harboring a deep desire to mix freely while charting a new course for themselves.  In Friendship Estate, we witness the intricate romances and elegant customs of a bygone age while meeting a captivating array of characters.

The story is very personal because eight generations of my family are buried on the island.  The story is based on one of many passed down through the generations.  But this one has always intrigued me, causing my imagination to take flight.

I loved writing this scene because I saw the scene unfolding in my mind’s eye.  I envisioned Sabine’s anger and felt her pain as she looked out at the beautiful scene unfolding in front of her, marred by the hatred she felt.  Sabine’s father is dying.  She is hurting and comes across her nemesis Brixton as he is swimming in the sea.

Sabine Holborn stood alone on the hill overlooking the white sand below her.  She watched as the sea turned from turquoise to dark blue.  The wind picked up the waves and crashed them against the shore, matching the anguish in her heart.  Her father was dying.  It was no longer if but when, and the unshed tears made the scene in front of her shimmer.  The loud sobs that racked her body had subsided as she rode to her favorite spot overlooking the endless expanse of the Caribbean Sea.  She loved Mount Sion, but it belonged to that hateful Brixton Dunbarton.

She had known Brixton Dunbarton all her life.  A few years older than she was, she watched as he flirted his way through all the eligible girls on the island.  All except her.  She had listened as her friends prattled on about how handsome he was, his blond hair kissed by the sun, they romanticized.  He was lean with long legs, hardened by years of riding and working his estate.  No one seemed to care that his clothes were last year’s fashions, slightly frayed and worn, or that his shoes were scuffed, and his dress stockings all had runs in them.  He was so beautiful; everyone overlooked his financial shortcomings.  As they grew older, a few girls had whispered of their romantic escapades with him.  He was always polite but never flirted with her and had proposed no romantic assignations.  It hadn’t taken long for her friends to notice.  They did not comment to her face, but she knew her standing with some of them had fallen, all because Brixton Dunbarton did not think she was important enough to flirt with her.  She hated him for it.

She watched as Brixton frolicked in the waves, not a care in the world.  He swam and splashed around, secure in his place in this world.  She did not have that luxury now, and it shook her natural confidence to its core.  She watched Brixton, and her resentment grew.  Why was his hateful father still enjoying his life while hers clung to his? 

Lynda Edwards is a Jamaican writer. To date, she has written two novels, Redemption Songs and her latest release, Friendship Estate.

Find out more about Lynda and her other books at www.lyndaredwards.com

SUNDAY SCENE: DANIELLE OWEN-JONES ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM STONE BROKE HEIRESS

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It was as I walked along the tree-lined Princes Boulevard, a leafy avenue in the heart of Toxteth, while the warm sunshine dappled the emerald leaves, that I admitted defeat – I was seeing the area with new, sober eyes and I was ashamed of how fast I was to judge it at first.

The boulevard was a hive of activity on such a beautiful day. Cyclists pulled over from the designated cycle lanes and gulped from fluorescent sports bottles. Visitors stopped to marvel at the art installations and read the plaques that revealed the history of the area. I stood alongside the groups and pored over the amazing heritage. Each plaque explored a different topic – the religious buildings reflecting its multi-faith community, its once thriving nightlife, the history of activism and the legacy of Liverpool’s role as a major port city.

Through my ignorance, all I’d associated Toxteth with was the riots, but here it was, resplendent in its regeneration and the proud community basking in its glory.

An installation at one end of the boulevard – just before the inviting, gold adorned gates of leafy Princes Park – was especially eye-catching, with striking golden text and gilded patterns inscribed in the stone stating: ‘Our Home, Our Life, Our Future’. Would it be my home, my life and my future too?

The freshly laid, pastel grey pavement was decorated with the occasional mosaic showcasing inspirational quotes. I stood above the one featuring words once spoken by Nelson Mandela: ‘The greatest glory in living is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.’

I had my answer; Toxteth had given it to me. I turned and headed back to my flat – back home.

My debut novel, Stone Broke Heiress, was originally set in London. It was my agent’s brilliant idea during pre-submission edits to change the location to Liverpool, Toxteth specifically. It sounds like a total cliché, but that really was a lightbulb moment. The new, Northern setting that I knew so well transformed the book in every way. From a pitch perspective, it gave the book an interesting angle for publishers when Clare took it out on sub (it was picked up by Bookouture in a two-book deal). But the setting also affected every aspect of the book and the more I wrote about the city I loved, the more the ideas flowed and the story grew stronger.

There was something else important to consider too. Unfortunately, the first thought that springs to a lot of minds when people hear ‘Toxteth’ is the 1981 riots. When I was researching the area for my book, I knew I had to include a reference to the riots forty years ago, together with the challenging years the area experienced afterwards. However, Toxteth has undergone an exciting period of transformation over recent years and I made a conscious effort to highlight the positive changes when writing those scenes.

A significant development in the area is the £4million, newly renovated Princes Boulevard – a leafy, tree-lined avenue that runs through the centre of Toxteth. The history of the area, both good and bad, is told through installations and information plaques dotted along the stunning boulevard. This example of regeneration is a vital part of Toxteth – combining both its history and its future. That’s why I chose the boulevard as the backdrop to a key scene in my book, when the protagonist, Bella, sees the area through new eyes and regrets how fast she was to judge it based on first impressions.

 

www.danielleowenjones.com

 

 

TWO EVOCATIVE AND INNOVATIVE DUAL TIMELINE ROMANCES FROM ONE MORE CHAPTER

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Dual timeline romances based around the First and Second World Wars are tremendously popular, but these two new summer releases from One More Chapter break the mould: Deborah Carr’s moved between WW1 and WW2, and Eva Glyn’s is set in the former Yugoslavia, a theatre of war in the 1940s that is barely mentioned in modern fiction.

 

The Beekeeper’s War by Deborah Carr, reviewed by Eva Glyn

An unusual dual timeline in that it is set during the First and Second World Wars, but I enjoyed The Beekeeper’s War all the most because of it.

I have read Deborah Carr books before and she is so skilled at recreating believable and accurate historical settings and characters, without ever beating you over the head with it. The history just flows as the natural backdrop for her story, which is of course how it should be but is nonetheless not easy to achieve.

The novel opens in 1916 when two friends from Jersey, Pru and Jean, are nursing wounded soldiers. Despite herself, Pru begins to fall for a handsome airman Jack who visits Ashbury Manor and is a close friend of the son of the house, Monty, who is a patient there. Jack is still very much on active service and the book opens with a scene of him escaping his German captors a year later, so we know this affair is not going to run smoothly.

In 1940 Pru’s daughter Emma finds herself at Ashbury to stay with her mother’s friends, determined to unlock some secrets from the past. To say more would spoil this story and that I don’t want to do, because it is such an enjoyable read I’d like you to find out for yourself.

 

An Island of Secrets by Eva Glyn, reviewed by Kitty Wilson

I raced through this novel over the course of two days and was thoroughly swept into the story of Guy and Ivka, as well as that of Leo and Andrej. The only drawback being that it ended too quickly and I should have savoured it.

It is written as a dual timeline and is seamlessly woven together as Leo goes in search of answers to outstanding questions her elderly grandfather has about his time in Yugoslavia (as it was) in the Second World War. I found the story of Guy as an SOE operative on the isle of Vis truly compelling and Eva Glyn writes with a sensitivity and insight that comes across on every single page. She truly bought home the scenes where Guy witnessed the horrors of war and I was totally pulled into the story as he battled with the choices he had to make.

From the very start of his first meeting with Ivka I was so invested in their relationship, they seemed like a natural good fit and I couldn’t help but respect the courage both of them showed on a daily basis. In fact, all the characters were written in a way that had you aware of their flaws but thoroughly rooting for their success.

But for me the most outstanding element of this fabulous novel was Eva Glyn’s way of conjuring the isle of Vis in the reader’s mind, she had me there seeing and smelling and feeling the scenery and made me feel that I could truly inhabit her characters’ world.

Overall, I found this novel to expertly crafted and cannot recommend it highly enough, it is a deeply impactful and emotionally powerful read and the story of Guy and Ivka in particular will stay with me for a very long time.

 

 

 

 

CARIADS’ CHOICE: MAY 2022 BOOK REVIEWS

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K T Dady’s Lemon Drop Cottage reviewed by Carol Thomas

This is the first book by K T Dady that I have read and, therefore, my first visit to Pepper Bay. As each book in the series is standalone, this didn’t spoil my understanding of the story.

I enjoyed meeting Scott and Dolly and spending time in this close, friendly community as their feelings developed. Dolly’s son, Dexter, is a great character who shone through; it was nice to see a teenage boy represented in a positive, caring way. There is an interesting sub-plot with the local retirement home being under threat and a good cast of secondary characters – I liked Giles, who has a close link to Scott and his secretive past. Having visited the Isle of Wight, I enjoyed the setting. Overall, this is a warm-hearted novel full of kind, caring characters who will make you smile.

 

Vicki Beeby’s A New Start for the Wrens reviewed by Morton S Gray

Loved this book! I binge read it as I wanted to know what would happen. The three main female characters Iris, Mary and Sally are all so easy to relate to and care about, as is Rob. Love the glimpses of Orkney and the poignant history. Cottoned on to the baddie early on and kept shouting warnings at my Kindle lol. Loved Vicki Beeby’s Ops Room Girls series and was worried this might not be as good but it is! Can’t wait for the next instalment in this series.

 

Rosemary Noble’s Sadie’s Wars reviewed by Jessie Cahalin

I have been idle for two days and it is Rosemary Noble’s fault. I travelled from innocence to experience with her character, Sadie.  She had my ear as soon as I walked into this thrilling family saga.  This hard-hitting, realistic document of challenging times deals with: propaganda, inequality, domestic violence and loss. Insight into Australia and England placed me in the centre of the historical periods.

Strategic juxtaposition of Sadie’s life during World War One Australia and World War Two Grimsby is brilliant.  Noble explores how our experiences make us react in the future thus providing depth to Sadie’s character.  Wounded by past troubles, Sadie makes decisions that made me want to sit her down and give her advice.  Tempting questions hang artfully in each chapter of this novel. Noble shows the inequalities between men and woman at the turn of the century and contrasts it with changing attitudes in post Second World War Britain.  Historical events, attitudes and politics are artfully woven into the narrative fabric of the novel. Noble explores love so beautifully in the novel.

An intelligent, powerful and deeply moving novel from Rosemary Noble.

 

Caroline James’s The Spa Break reviewed by Jane Cable

How marvellous to have a book about four women in their sixties going away on a girls’ weekend. It happens in real life quite a lot (some young people would be amazed to hear), but rarely between the pages of a book, and frankly I’d like more of it.

Caroline James’ characters are brilliant; fully rounded, far from perfect and never, ever, falling into the trap of being stereotyped. Each of the four women has their own story to tell, their own future to grab hold of and change, and it seems that a spa break is the best place to do it.

This is a gorgeously warm, witty book and I would totally recommend it as a feelgood weekend or holiday read.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: CATHERINE KULLMANN ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM PERCEPTION & ILLUSION

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Burlington House, London, 1 July 1814

 We are guests at that famous masquerade given by the members of Watier’s club to the cream of the English nobility and demi-monde in honour of peace between Great Britain and France.

This is a favourite scene of mine for two reasons. First, it is a pivotal scene in my Perception & Illusion. Lallie’s and Hugo’s marriage is in difficulties. Here, they dance together, although he does not know who she is.

 

Lallie hastily inspected the surrounding gentlemen. There was Luke Fitzmaurice, dressed as Hamlet with a skull-mask on a stick—poor Yorick, she assumed. He would be a good choice, but before she could gather her courage and beckon him to her, a sister Muse called imperiously, “Prince Hamlet,” and he immediately obeyed the summons.

Others had also chosen their partners and, panicking a little, Lallie sought Hugo’s eye. She did not know whether to be pleased or annoyed when a coquettish glance paired with a seductive curve of her finger brought him to her side.

“Clio,” he bowed. “I am honoured.”

It was different dancing with him when she didn’t have to conceal her reactions. The Grecian gown permitted only the lightest of stays and she shivered when his hands clasped her waist and she had to mirror the position for the jetées of the valse sauteuse. She felt his every movement beneath her fingers and had to resist the temptation to pull him closer to her. To her relief the music slowed and they could move again into more open attitudes, revolving about one another in seductive harmony.

Who was she? Although the fast waltz did not permit much conversation, her voice was tantalisingly familiar but Hugo could not match it to any woman of that height. She danced very lightly and followed his lead so exquisitely that he conjectured she had come from the ballet. If only he could waltz like this with Lallie. Then he felt guilty for thinking of his wife with another woman in his arms. He didn’t know what impulse had made him obey the unspoken invitation. Perhaps it was because the Muses’ entrance had provided a welcome distraction from his cheerless thoughts. He was sick of London, sick and tired of the Season, but dreading the return to Tamm. How would he and Lallie fare once back in its cold halls? If it were not for that cursed duel, he might have had some hope, but she still held herself aloof. He had never thought he would miss that little sigh of hers.

“Ah, Clio,” he said as they took a turn about the room afterwards, “how fortunate we would be if you only recorded our victories, but sadly our defeats and lack of judgement must also be noted in your scrolls.”

“If I were to remember only his victories, man would look continuously to the past, seeking to repeat it. But he may learn from his mistakes, sir, and perhaps even earn forgiveness or, at least, a second chance.”

“To err is human?” he asked seriously.

“Indeed, sir and are we not all called upon to forgive? But see, my sister comes for me.” As she spoke, another Muse took her hand and pulled her from him to disappear into the crowd.

“The carriage is outside if you still wish to leave early,” Thalia whispered.

“I do. And you?”

“I think I’ll stay awhile.”

 

This brief exchange between Lallie and Thalia is the other reason I love this scene. I simply had to know what happened when Thalia returned to the party. This led to The Murmur of Masks. Although written after Perception & Illusion, it was published first as my debut novel.

 

www.catherinekullmann.com

SUNDAY SCENE: VICTORIA SPRINGFIELD ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM THE ITALIAN HOLIDAY

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Choosing a favourite scene from my debut novel The Italian Holiday was rather like choosing a favourite pasta sauce or flavour of Italian gelati – impossible not to keep changing my mind!  My unlucky-in-love heroine, Bluebell has always wanted to visit Italy but taking her granny’s place on Loving and Knitting magazine’s trip isn’t quite what she had in mind.  When she realises she has picked up the wrong suitcase at Naples airport, Bluebell is horrified – until she discovers the colourful, confidence boosting dresses inside fit like a glove.

Bluebell and her unlikely new pals stay at the fictional Hotel Sea Breeze in Minori, a charming seaside town just along the coast from Amalfi.  I first visited Minori in 2015, and my then-boyfriend and I loved it so much we ‘eloped’ there to get married two years later.  Exploring the area whilst on honeymoon, I knew that it would make the perfect setting for a story of unusual friendships, finding love when you least expect it – and how the right dress can change your life.

My protagonists explore the gardens in Ravello, take a boat trip to Positano and visit unforgettable Capri but I have chosen a day trip to Sorrento, in the first part of the book, as my favourite scene.  The women are up early ‘despite their late night dancing on the seafront’ and assemble ‘by the reception desk, chatting away, clutching a mixture of sun hats and cardigans just in case the fine June day turned out to be too hot or too cold.’  Bluebell and her new friend, 72-year-old Miriam, holidaying abroad for the first time since her husband’s death, swap stories at the back of the coach whilst little Evie is busy with her ‘top-secret knitting project.’

When the guide they are due to meet in Sorrento is taken ill, down-to-earth Brenda comes to the rescue and leads the others on her own tour, exploring the via San Cesareo where ‘boxes of soft peaches and oversized knobbly lemons were piled up beneath canopies hung with waxy red chillies…Italian mothers bargained with stall holders and remonstrated with recalcitrant children.  Overhead, strings of colourful flags criss-crossed the narrow street.’  Down in the marina, they feast on ‘bruschette fragrant with oil and garlic, topped by the brightest chopped tomatoes with shredded basil…peppers and aubergines cooked until they were soft and velvety.’

The women, near strangers until now, begin to gel and the reader gets a hint of the adventures that lie ahead.  Spotting a wedding in the cloisters where the glamorous outfits are a far cry from ‘the sturdy pastel two-pieces worn at a typical English wedding for fear of upstaging the bride,’ Bluebell wonders if she is quite as cynical about love as she likes to think she is.  Meanwhile Miriam gets a ‘faraway look in her eyes’ perhaps thinking of handsome Tommaso who runs Minori’s Trattoria di Napoli where the women ate the previous night.

After their busy day in Sorrento, the ladies are looking forward to an early night except for Bluebell who has a date with ‘tight-trousered’ hotel waiter Andrea.  Bluebell plans to wear a special outfit from the mystery suitcase: ‘the prettiest dress of them all.’  Later that evening, the ‘orange, full-skirted number covered in big white poppies’ will attract the attention of an intriguing young man, sending Bluebell and Miriam on the trail of the mysterious girl in the poppy-print dress.

 

The Italian Holiday and A Farmhouse in Tuscany are published by Orion Dash.  Victoria’s new book, set in Lucca, The Italian Fiancé is out August 2022.

Twitter: @VictoriaSWrites

 

 

 

SUNDAY SCENE: MISA BUCKLEY ON HER FAVOURITE SCENE FROM ARCHANGEL

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I love writing romance. Throwing two people who are often poles apart and watching the sparks fly. In my novella ARCHANGEL, my leads are as different as you can get. Gabriel is an ex-criminal who used to deliver questionable packages, while Abigail is a sculptor selling her art in a L.A. shop. Gabe is practical, level-headed man who doesn’t believe in much. Abigail is a medium and believes in heaven and hell, and all that entails.

So how do two such opposing people even meet? Well, ARCHANGEL is a paranormal romance. The antagonist has sold his soul to the devil for power, sealing the deal with a series of grisly murders – that Abigail “sees” happen. Gabriel is the guy sent to protect her… though it ends up being a lot more.

In the following scene, Gabe has taken Abigail for dinner, then a stroll around the hotel they’re staying at. At the pool side, they’ve gotten talking about his sketchy past, and Abigail decides to move things along. Not only is this their first kiss, but here we see her absolute belief that Gabe can be a better man.

 

“I trust you, Gabriel,” she said, her voice soft but earnest. “I know you think I’ve every reason not to, and perhaps you’re right. But I didn’t ask for good. I didn’t ask for perfect. I asked for someone to protect me, and you have. You will.”

“You need more than that.”

“You are more than that. You just don’t give yourself enough credit.”

I told hold of her wrists and pulled her hands from my face. “With good reason. You’ve no idea what’s going on in my head.”

Her laugh shocked me. It bounced off the tiled walls of the pool room, rich and pure. Still laughing, she tugged her wrists free and then wrapped her arms around my neck. Her floral scent filled my senses. Her body against mine shut my brain down.

“It’s probably similar to what I’m thinking,” she murmured, then her lips were on mine, firm yet sweet.

 The temptation to taste her overwhelmed me, and I gave in with very little resistance, if any. Her lips were fruity from the wine we’d drunk. I licked them and they parted, giving me access to her mouth. I slid my tongue in and her groan vibrated against my teeth, sending shocks of desires though my bones.

 My determination to keep things professional evaporated like dew in the desert. I carded the fingers of my right hand into the thick silk of her hair. My left hand found her hip. I pulled her close, and she moulded against me, her arms tightening.

 Warning bells rang. I told them to go to hell. For once I just wanted to lose myself in someone who wasn’t being paid to make me feel good. In someone who believed in me, even when I couldn’t.

 

What I really love about this scene is Gabe’s shift from cynical disbeliever, opening up – even if it’s just a little – to someone else and the possibility of being loved. I think most people deserve that in their lives.