It’s that time again! I’m very pleased to announce that the Naked Gardening Day Team are back. We had such fun working together last year that we decided to choose another day to write about this year and landed on World Letter Writing Day on 1st September.
Today I’ve got an excerpt for you below, and over the next few days I’ll be featuring posts from Holly Day, K. L. Noone and Nell Iris and I’ll also be visiting their blogs to talk about my own story, Reading it Wrong. This year we are very sorry to be missing Amy Spector, but we’re hoping her story will be released in time for the paperback anthology next year.
Without further ado…Reading it Wrong
A date turned down. A stolen letter. A reminder that nerds don’t just play board games. Reading it Wrong is a gentle MM romance set in the small town world of Theatr Fach.
Paul Cranford regrets asking Louise and Darcy Middleton to let the kids from his class have a look at the fifteenth century letter they’re selling at auction. If it hadn’t been for him, it would never have been in the theatre overnight to even get stolen in the first place.
Darcy isn’t keen on Paul Cranford. He’s never quite got over the way Paul knocked him back when Darcy tried to ask him out. But when the letter is stolen from the theatre and Darcy is hurt in the process, Paul steps up to help him and he starts to understand where he’s coming from.
Getting back the letter means they get to know each other better. Will that date Paul turned down happen after all?
A date turned down. A stolen letter. A reminder that nerds don’t just play board games. Reading it Wrong is a gentle MM romance set in the small town world of Theatr Fach.
Buy Links: Amazon US : Amazon UK : JMS Books : Everywhere Else : Goodreads
Reading it Wrong: Chapter 1: Darcy
“How can a town support not one, but two antiquarian book sellers? It’s bloody ridiculous!” Darcy fumed at his sister as she peered through her glasses at the laptop screen. He was so irritated he was pacing to-and-fro in front of the counter, waving his arms. Louise started to answer, “Well, Hay does…” and then glanced up and over his shoulder, frowning at him in passing. “Hello there, can I help you?” she asked the person he’d failed to notice coming up behind him. Darcy swung round as he stepped out of the way. Oh. No. That was just what he needed. Paul Cranford nodded to him politely but didn’t meet his eyes, instead smiling at Louise as he stepped up to the desk. “Er. Yes,” he said. “I’ve, er—” He glanced quickly and dismissively over at Darcy again, who’d folded his arms and was glaring at him. “Hi Louise, how are you?” “I’m good thanks, Paul. How are you? How’s David? Is he still at the boatyard?” Paul smiled at her. “Yes! They’re doing really well; they’ve got some big contracts in at the moment. I’m sure he’d send his best to you.” “It’s been ages since I’ve seen him,” Louise said. “A couple of years, at least. He’s not a reader.” She grinned at him. “He’s more outdoorsy than me,” Paul told her. “Always has been. I was a failure as a little brother.” He smiled as he said it, clearly joking. “I remember from school,” Louise said. “He did all sorts of sport. I remember him badgering you to join in and you being happier in the library. What are you looking for today? Can I help you with anything? That new release you’re waiting for hasn’t come in yet,” she said regretfully. He shook his head. “No, that’s not why I’ve come by,” he said. “It’s something different. I’m here for a favour actually.” Darcy didn’t bother to stifle his huff of irritation. “A favour,” he said, flatly, at the same time as Louise said, “Anything I can do to help! What sort of favour?” Paul glanced over at Darcy for a second time as he interjected and then looked back at Louise, ignoring him. That wound Darcy up even more, but Louise gave him a quelling look and said, “Be quiet please, baby brother!” and then turned back to Paul. “What sort of favour?” Darcy growled under his breath. She never let him forget he’d been an afterthought to their parents and was fifteen years younger than her. “Right, er. Well. You know I teach at St Baruc Primary. I… er. I heard about the letter that you’re selling.” Louise nodded. “The letter… we’re selling it at auction, in the middle of the week,” she said. “At the theatre. On Thursday.” “Yes,” he said.” “I. Er. I wonder if it would be possible for the children to see it before it’s sold?” he said. “Why?” said Darcy, sharply. It wasn’t any of his business really, but Paul put his back up simply by existing these days and this was his sister and the letter he’d found. Nothing to do with Mr Paul I’m too good to date you Cranford. Paul looked over at him again, polite enough to notice him this time. “Oh, hello, Darcy,” he said. He pushed his glasses up his nose and blushed. “Well,” he said. “It’s local history. It’s important.” Darcy opened his mouth and then closed it again. He couldn’t argue with that. “I mean…it’s not local, local. But from what I’ve read about it, it’s a very normal sort of letter, about family and Christmas and things like that. I think the kids would be able to identify with it. We’re doing a letter-writing project, you see.” Louise was making a thinking noise. “Hmm. Yes. I can see that. It’s not here though. It’s at the bank.” She pulled a face. “I wonder… I can probably get it out the day before the auction for them to see. Would that work?” Darcy made another muffled noise of dissent. It was a fifteenth century letter, for God’s sake. Letting a sticky-fingered bunch of pre-teens have at it the day before it went up for sale for thousands of quid seemed really unwise. But Louise was nodding and Paul was nodding and giving Louise his mobile number and everything seemed copacetic between them. Nothing to do with Darcy. Nothing at all. He turned round and busied himself shelving the Victorian fairy-tale collection Louise had bought last week. “Bye, Darcy,” Paul said, finally taking his leave. “See you on Wednesday.” “Yeah, see you,” Darcy said, mentally snarking Not if I can help it. They were both members of the Llanbaruc Boardgames Club that met in the theatre café on a Wednesday evening. Darcy ran the café, so he’d negotiated with his boss to let them meet there and have access to the bar. He didn’t know exactly when he’d taken against Paul. Oh. Yeah, he did. It was the evening Darcy had suggested they go out for a drink together one night and Paul had looked at him as if he was something that had come in on the bottom of his shoe and said “Er. No. No, I don’t think so, thanks. I don’t, er… I’m not… erm. No. Thanks,” and reversed away from him so quickly he’d knocked into the game of Risk going on behind him and caused South America to inadvertently invade Australasia via Finland. Buy Links: Amazon US : Amazon UK : JMS Books : Everywhere Else : Goodreads
