#spotlight A Cornish Daisy’s Kiss by Laura Briggs

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#Spotlight A Cornish Daisy’s Kiss by Laura Briggs
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A Cornish Daisy’s Kiss
A Little Hotel in Cornwall Book 6
by Laura Briggs



Weeks after boarding a train to Paris in pursuit of her writing dreams, aspiring novelist Maisie Clark is right back where she started: on the idyllic shores of Port Hewer in Cornwall, luggage in hand and heart filled with anticipation for what lies ahead. Except that nothing seems the same as Maisie left it, from her place among the staff at the hotel Penmarrow to her budding romance with groundskeeper Sidney Daniels, who isn’t quite ready to overlook the painful consequences of her sudden departure.

Losing Sidney would be unbearable, but Maisie can’t help fearing it might be true if the rift between them proves too deep to heal. She knows her feelings for him are unchanged, but whether he feels the same remains to be seen—particularly since she stopped him from expressing them in the first place. And to make matters worse, her position at the Penmarrow has been filled by another, there’s nowhere for her to live in the village, and her savings are finally dwindling to a pathetic number – with her book still unpublished after her startling discovery about the author helping guide her towards success.

But one thing which hasn’t changed is the drama and excitement at the hotel Penmarrow, where the staff is awaiting inspection from the dreaded owner Ms. Claypool. Stirring up trouble in the meantime is the owner’s special guest ‘Mad Ludwig’, an eccentric architect whose demands are definitely driving everyone on the staff a little crazy. And then there’s the hotel’s mysterious new desk manager, whose behavior ignites Maisie’s suspicions and causes her to become entangled in yet another form of intrigue—one that could unwittingly jeopardize the future of the Penmarrow and everyone who works there, unless Maisie can find a way to undo the harm.

With everything that matters to her most at stake this time, Maisie faces her biggest challenges yet…and her deepest question of the heart as she confronts the reason she returned to Cornwall and the Penmarrow in the first place.

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I am delighted to have an extract from this book to share with you guys:

“Sit down, dearie,” said Mrs. Graves, as she replaced the lid on her pot and dusted off her apron. “It feels an age since you’ve been a guest here. Off to Paris, wasn’t it?”

“Paris and London,” I said, perching on one of the tall stools beside the old cook’s table, where Mrs. Graves’s plum pitter was surrounded by messy heaps of reddish-purple pulp and fruit stone. “I brought you a souvenir.” For the housekeeper, I had purchased one of the delicate little soaps from the gift shop at Versailles.

“Isn’t that lovely?” she said, examining it with a smile. “Lovely lavender scent.”

“Sorry I couldn’t bring you any of the queen’s jewels,” I joked.

“I’ve always wanted to see the big church and that fancy palace of Louis the Sun King,” reflected Mrs. Graves, as she pocketed the soap carefully in her apron after a final sniff of its fragrance, then returned to her plum pile. “I had a chance to see Windsor once, but I’ve never been to any other proper palace or any of the grand estates like Blenheim or Highclere. But I did have a lovely tourist tea at the castle, and the Queen was at home, which was quite exciting to think about. You could see her television antenna from one of the windows. Is there a television antenna at the one in Paris, I wonder?”

“Not that I noticed,” I answered. I smiled, inhaling deeply the scent of overcooked fruit and watery juices which seemed as welcome as French perfume after so many weeks away. I had been homesick for even her shortbread worthy of hard tack status, just as a reminder of the many afternoons I spent here in Sidney’s company.

“Sidney said you’d gone to meet with a famous writer who was helping you finish your book, which nearly bowled me over when I heard of it,” said Mrs. Graves, scraping her newly-pitted plums into a bowl. “I hadn’t any idea that you were a writer — you never breathed a word about it, you sly one.” She hastened to rescue the frothing contents of her pot, which clattered loudly for attention just now.

At the mention of Sidney’s name, I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. “Did he have much to say while I was gone?” I asked.

“Sidney? He was his usual self,” she answered. “He was gone for a bit, off to see some friends, I expect. Or traveling. He’s such a wanderer, that boy. I expect he’ll be off one day without warning, and I’ll wake to an untended garden and shingles in need of replacing on the shed, and no one to do it.”

“Which friends?” I asked, trying to steer away from the subject of Sidney leaving, even if it went into the subject of Sidney’s possibly-dubious friends outside the village. His leaving was a reality which I had managed to keep in the back of my mind until I became the first to leave, thus opening a Pandora’s box of emotion that I couldn’t now close.

“I don’t recall. Someone from his old university days, maybe. I hope they’re not a bad lot, because he’s been a good boy in the village, even if people do talk. But who am I telling? You know it as well as I do.”

Then again, maybe his old friends was not a topic I wanted to explore. Were any of them Sidney’s lost loves? The women whose hearts he broke during his brief stint at Oxford, according to local rumor?

“I’m sure he must have spent a lot of time with Dean,” I ventured. “And the dogs.” Sidney’s pack of adopted strays wouldn’t have been left to Mrs. Graves’s care for longer than necessary — surely the vicar wanted his lawns properly mown while summer tourists were in the village, didn’t he?

“A bit of painting up at the young man’s cottage, I think,” said Mrs. Graves, as she gave the stewed fruit a vigorous stir and added a sprinkle of something from a nearby tin. “But Sidney is always up to something, I never quite know what he’s doing.”

“Speaking ill of me behind my back?” It was Sidney’s voice speaking. He stood in the kitchen doorway, a bundle of dirty carrots in hand, freshly pulled from the garden. My heart skipped a beat, as if I wasn’t quite adjusted to hearing his voice outside my imagination.


Author Bio –

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: https://www.facebook.com/authorlaurabriggs

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/PaperDollWrites


I am Fee, a 30 -something SAHM bookworm! I love to read, and will read almost anything and everything. I am not afraid to try new genres of books and my main genre is horror, thriller.

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