Sunday, May 20

Excerpt from ONE SHORE THING

I just realized that I'd promised to post an excerpt on Friday, yet I completely forgot! I blame Flump hormones.

So here's an excerpt from "One Shore Thing", the novella of mine that comprises one half of A Taste of Summer. You can also read an excerpt from Nell's novella, "Making Waves", over on her website. I've also put up a permanent link to the buy the book over there to the right, on my sidebar.


At closing time Carrie went out to the back-room and collected the shopping bags she’d acquired at lunchtime. It was about time Carolyn-Ann Vaughan disappeared altogether and that required a few changes, the means for which were inside those bags. Noah set the alarm and locked the door, and they walked down Cove Street together toward the soft whisper of the surf.

“How did you find your first day? Think you’ll stay?”

Carrie looked up at Noah’s smiling face. As they exited the cobbled lane on to the main road sunlight struck them. It burnished Noah’s dark blond hair, making some strands appear lighter than others.

“I loved it and I’d definitely like to stay. That’s if you’ll have me, of course.”

He bumped his upper arm against her shoulder. “Yeah, I think you’ll do.”

She laughed and for a few moments they walked along to the simple soundtrack of the surf washing the sand below them and the cries of the seagulls that soared overhead. A strand of hair loosened from Carrie’s ponytail and drifted across her nose.

“Do you, uh, have any plans for dinner?” Noah’s hands were buried in the pockets of his cargo trousers and he gazed studiously at the sea as if to emphasize the breeziness of his question.

“Not particularly. The last couple of days I’ve just thrown together a salad.”

“Salad? That’s not a proper dinner! Tell you what, because you did such a fabulous job today, I’ll treat you to fish and chips. Atlantic Fresh, the bar down the promenade, only uses fish that has been caught that day and you cannot beat the taste. It’s nothing like what you would have had in London, believe me.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “All right, you’re on. That sounds miles better than lettuce and tomato. But I have to be somewhere in—” she glanced at her watch “—ten minutes and then I have a couple of things to do at home. Shall I meet you in Atlantic Fresh at, say, half-past seven?”

Noah nodded. “Perfect. See you then, Carrie.”

She waved as he left the promenade to walk up the hill.

In another five minutes’ walk along the seafront, Carrie reached her destination: Tresses on the Breeze hair salon. The door was open and delicious smells of coconutty cleanliness wafted out on to the pavement.

She gave her name at the desk and barely had time to open a magazine before someone sat down next to her.

“It’s Carrie, isn’t it?” A tanned young woman held out a hand, her wrist ringed with beaded bracelets.

A cautious jolt shot through Carrie. “Um, yes.” She shook the woman’s hand.

“I’m Vanya, your stylist. What can I do for you today?” She indicated that Carrie take her hair out of its ponytail.

Relief sighed through Carrie when she realized that she hadn’t been recognized. She released her hair and turned away slightly so Vanya could look at it. “Actually, I’m looking to make quite a change…”

Just finished reading: What's Cooking? by Sherryl Woods


liz fenwick said...

Well, you have me hooked.......why doesn't she want anyone to recognize her? Who is Noah to her?

Great stuff :-)

Phillipa said...

Yes ... I am hooked too!

Jessica Raymond said...

Thanks Liz and Pip!

Jess x