I am very excited to be part of the blog tour today for Coming home to Holly Close Farm by Julie Houston. The books was released in the UK on 5th February and you can click here to order your copy if you enjoy the extract below! Don't forget to visit the other stops on the tour for more exclusive content and reviews!
Here's what it's all about:
Charlie
Maddison loves
being an architect in London, but when she finds out her boyfriend, Dominic, is
actually married, she runs back to the beautiful countryside of Westenbury and
her parents.
Charlie’s
sister Daisy, a landscape gardener, is also back home in desperate need of
company and some fun. Their great-grandmother, Madge – now in her early
nineties - reveals she has a house, Holly Close Farm, mysteriously abandoned
over sixty years ago, and persuades the girls to project manage its renovation.
As work
gets underway, the sisters start uncovering their family’s history, and the
dark secrets that are hidden at the Farm.
A heart-breaking tale of wartime
romance, jealousy and betrayal slowly emerges, but with a moral at its end:
true love can withstand any obstacle, and, before long, Charlie dares to
believe in love again too…
Here's that extract you've been waiting for...
‘So, what happened to your career
as waitress in the sky?’ I hugged my younger sister before flopping down onto
her bed and, closing my eyes, tried to shut out the awful events of the day.
‘Cunnilingus finished me
off.’
‘Sorry?’ I opened one eye
and squinted at Daisy. ‘I can’t take you seriously with that purple stuff on
your hair and white stuff above your lips.’
‘I’ve no money to get my
hair done at the hairdresser so I’m touching up the roots myself – I borrowed
Vivienne’s toothbrush to do the job: she’s the only one without an electric one
round here – and for some reason I seem to be sprouting a moustache suddenly,
so I’m bleaching that as well. I blame all the fumes I’ve had to breathe in
while walking up and down that damned cabin.’
I looked at Daisy
doubtfully. ‘Fumes give you a moustache? Never heard that one before. You’re
just getting old. By the time you’re thirty you’ll probably have a beard
that’ll give Rip Van Winkle a run for his money.’
‘Shit, do you think so?’
Daisy felt her chin before scrutinising her face in the mirror. ‘My eyebrows
are sprouting as well. Raphael said to me the other week, “Eets like being in
bed wiz Denees Healey.”’
I tutted. ‘Cheeky sod. You
should have asked the little frog how he
knew what being in bed wiz Denees
Healey was like.’
We both cackled at that and
I felt a bit better that Daisy was having a few problems on the man front too.
No matter how much you might adore your sister, you don’t want her to be one up
on you, especially when she’s two years younger than you.
‘You do know you can’t call
the French Frogs any
more,’ Daisy tutted in turn. ‘I thought you’d have learned that, living in London.
Totally and utterly not PC. Anyway, the little frog’s on the way out, I reckon,
especially as I’ll no longer be meeting up with him at Charles De Gaulle:
Terminal 2D. He’ll have to concentrate on handling baggage rather than me in
future.’ Daisy lay down on the bed beside me, shoving me up towards the wall as
she did so. ‘Blimey, it’s jolly hard work keeping your face tilted upwards so
this vile-smelling stuff doesn’t slide down into your mouth.’
‘And the cunnilingus?’ I
closed my eyes again and snuggled under Daisy’s duvet. It felt warm and safe
and I wanted to hide there for ever, shutting out the events of the past few
hours.
Daisy laughed. ‘It was so
boring up there in the sky that, once we’d served the drinks, food, duty free
and slapped down the wandering drunks and gropers, we’d come up with ways to
entertain ourselves.’
‘Couldn’t you just strap
yourself in and have a snooze?’
Daisy tutted. ‘Having a kip
thirty-five thousand feet up is hardly professional.’
‘And indulging in a
mile-high sex act is? So, you entertained yourselves with a bit of covert oral
sex? With whom? Not the pilot, I hope?’
Daisy laughed. ‘Don’t be
ridiculous. Have you seen the size of a cockpit on a charter plane to Malaga?’
‘It wasn’t the cock pit I was imagining.’ I
opened one eye and raised its eyebrow in her direction.
Daisy laughed again. ‘If
living in London has given you such a vivid imagination, it’s probably time you
came back north. Anyway, in order to overcome the total monotony of trailing up
and down the aisle, we set ourselves little tasks. The task for the day was for
a crew member to get the word cunnilingus
into a sentence over the public-address system.’
‘Right.’ I yawned. It all
sounded terribly juvenile. ‘As in, please be aware that cunnilingus, like
smoking, is not permitted in the aircraft toilet?’
‘Do you want to hear how
clever I was, or not?’
‘Sorry, go on.’
‘So, over the speaker I said,
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. The seat belt sign is still illuminated
so please ensure you’re strapped in. There does appear to be some turbulence,
which may give a bit of a bumpy ride. It could be there for a while as it
appears to be the sort that kinda
lingers…’
About
the author
Julie Houston is the author of THE ONE SAVING GRACE,
GOODNESS, GRACE AND ME and LOOKING FOR LUCY, a Kindle top 100 general
bestseller and a Kindle #1 bestseller. She is married, with two teenage
children and a mad cockerpoo and, like her heroine, lives in a West Yorkshire
village. She is also a teacher and a magistrate.
Follow
Julie:
Twitter:
@juliehouston2
Facebook:
@JulieHoustonauthor
Buy
links:
Amazon:
http://amzn.eu/d/2Q4hjjW
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2SunhcY
iBooks: https://apple.co/2rmy9OL
Google
Play: http://bit.ly/2Ul2evq
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Aria
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