The Cornish Village School - Breaking The Rules by Kitty Wilson | Canelo Blog Tour | Featuring An Extract!

Friday, 15 June 2018

Title: The Cornish Village School - Breaking the Rules

Author Name: Kitty Wilson

Previous Books (if applicable): N/A

Genre: Women’s Fiction

Release Date: 11th June 2018

Publisher: Canelo

Rosy Winter is definitely not looking for love
Following heartbreak, Rosy has rebuilt her life in the beautiful Cornish village of Penmenna. Now, headmistress of the local school, she is living by The Rule: no dating anyone in the village. Easy right? But Rosy Winter has a new neighbour, handsome gardener Matt.
In Penmenna for his new gardening TV show, this guy next door will do everything he can to persuade her to break her rule and win her heart. Meanwhile, Penmenna Village School is threatened with closure and it’s up to Rosy to rally the local community and #SaveOurSchool. Can she bring her worlds together and accept help from the most unlikely of sources? One thing’s for sure… she won’t be giving up without a fight.
This heartwarming romance is perfect for fans of Tilly Tennant, Holly Martin and A. L. Michael.

Links to Book: 

Author Bio:
Kitty Wilson has lived in Cornwall for the last twenty-five years having been dragged there, against her will, as a stroppy teen. She is now remarkably grateful to her parents for their foresight and wisdom - and that her own children aren’t as hideous. She spends most of her time welded to the keyboard or hiding out at the beach and has a penchant for very loud music, equally loud dresses and romantic heroines who speak their mind.

Twitter: @@KittyWilson23
Extract - 

Chapter Seven

A couple of hours later and Rosy was feeling much better. She could hold herself upright without needing a friendly wall as support, she no longer felt as if she’d been at sea for a week and her head had diminished its pounding to a gentle knocking that she was choosing to ignore.

Now it was just a matter of wading through the piles of clothes that seemed to have fallen all over her floor in the last twenty minutes and popping some make-up on. Just a smidge; she didn’t want to look as if she were trying. This wasn’t a date, it was a neighbourly gesture.

Was she going to have to spend the whole time reminding herself he was taken? Or that becoming friendly with a man who lived next door and made her tummy lurch, her fingertips tingle, was against The Rule? No. Because she was a woman of staunch self-will and strong morals. And to prove it she’d limit herself to a pout of sweet honey lip gloss and a wave of mascara and then get her arse downstairs before he knocked.

A light tap on the door scuppered her plan. The man was certainly punctual. She glided down the stairs in film star mode. She did like film star mode. So much more glamorous than her teacher setting. She would make sure she asked about Perfect Hair fairly early on so she could draw a clear boundary line and then they could get on with being amiable and chummy. She could be a good neighbour and everyone would know where they stood.


‘Hello, come on in.’ She smiled in her most platonic manner.
‘OK, thanks, sorry for disturbing you earlier.’

‘Oh, that’s fine, don’t worry about it.’ They continued to stand in the hallway smiling politely at each other. Little shy half-smiles. Feeling awkward, Rosy lavished lots of attention on Scramble, who was jumping up at her and yapping – he really was adorable – but as she felt Matt’s eyes on her she struggled to know what to do with her face. Oh, to have been born elegant!

‘Right, come on then. Show me the best roast in the county.’ Matt indicated the front door and broke their silence.

‘OK, but if I’m taking you out with me you’re going to have to practise your Cornish on the way.’

‘I think I be quite good at that,’ Matt retorted in a broad Somerset accent as he marched alongside her down the path, Scramble tumbling between the two of them.
‘I think your dog could do better! That was insulting. If you speak like that, you’ll be punched before your pint is poured. We’re going to have to start with the basics. Ready? Now, you can refer to men as “me ‘ansum” – go on.’

‘Do I have to? What if they’re not?’
‘You say it anyway, so shh and do as you’re told.’
‘Will you tell me off again if I refuse?’ A quick glance at her face made Matt stand up straighter and do as he was told. ‘Good day, me ‘ansum.’
‘No, not like that. “Areet, me ‘ansum, how’s it to?”’
‘Howsit what? How does that make sense?’
‘Just do it.’

‘Woah, schoolmarm voice on much! I like it.’
‘I am actually a teacher, you know, a headteacher, so you’re getting the real thing. Are you telling me you want to hear my strictest schoolmarm voice?’ Rosy stopped still at the bottom of the hill that led to their cottages.

‘I bet you’re an amazing teacher. As to the voice, now I don’t know. Half of me is a yes please and the other half is terrified.’ Matt arched his brow. He stopped alongside her and gazed out across the fields, pointing towards the sea.

‘There’s something special about living this close to the sea, you just breathe in the air and feel cleaner somehow. And look…’ He turned a full circle slowly, indicating all around him. ‘The sea comes lapping in over there, but right here, at this point, all the fields on all sides are rolling down towards us too, like waves of land. All hitting this central point, right here. I don’t know if I feel safe, all ensconced in this valley, or whether I should feel scared, at the central point where all the elements meet. Either way it’s awesome, isn’t it, like in the proper sense of the word.’

Rosy took in the scene as he described it. He was right; just at this point on the corner before they turned into the village was a central meeting point for the landscape surrounding them. She was so used to the beauty all around her she missed the obvious things.
‘I’d go with scared if I were you. Doesn’t do to get complacent.’

‘Are you suggesting that this village isn’t the safe haven I expect?’
‘Oh, absolutely. Have you lived in a village before? All calm and civil on the surface with a maelstrom of whirling danger and intrigue just a scratch or two under the surface. Trust me, I wouldn’t guide you wrong.’

‘Hmmm.’ Matt attempted a quizzical expression so daft that Rosy couldn’t help the giggle that erupted from her lips. ‘I don’t think I can believe you. I know just around this corner is the most picturesque scene imaginable – you are not going to convince me that there’s a hive of wife-swapping and cannibalism going on behind these postcard perfect doors.’
‘Well, maybe not cannibalism. Come on, you are far from practised in this accent yet. I don’t want you to embarrass yourself once we get to the pub.’ Rosy rounded the corner and Matt darted to keep up with her, Scramble just outpacing him.

‘Hang on, are we only going to the village pub? Is it not a bit of a coincidence that it happens to be the best in Cornwall? Where are the rooftop terraces, the sea views? If we’re staying in the village shouldn’t we go to the restaurant on the beach? What’s your game, Miss… um… I don’t know your surname. Miss Rosy?’

‘The restaurant shuts down in January and the first couple of weeks of February so you’d be waiting a while for food. Besides which, I thought you wanted in on the local secrets.’
‘Apart from the cannibalism.’

‘Yes, apart from the cannibalism. Now stop talking and concentrate. Yes, we’re going to the village pub. It’s your induction and trust me, it will be an education. Now, to address a woman you can use “maid”. Go on.’

‘How’s it to, me maid.’
‘Hmm, better.’
‘Does “maid” not imply an age thing? Will I not get arrested?’
‘Yes, you will if you keep interrupting. Now, if you want to know where something is, you say “where’s it to?” And if you want to know what’s happening, it’s “wosson?” Got it?’
‘No, it’s a whole bloody new language.’
‘I thought you wanted to be local? Try harder.’
‘Yes, miss.’ He winked.

‘And don’t be insolent or you won’t get any lunch.’
‘Ooh, I think I am enjoying this.’ They passed the butcher’s and the village shop, the higgledy-piggledy houses in their array of colours watching them from the hillside as they approached the pub.

‘You’re incorrigible. We’re here now.’ Rosy leant forward and placed her hand on the big blue door to the pub. Matt quickly glanced at the outside of the building.

‘Umm, are you sure?’ He looked like he thought he was going to get food poisoning merely by stepping inside. She tutted, loudly. She was enjoying this schoolmistress thing. It almost gave her leave to be as abrasive and rude as she liked; it was a bit of a novelty, and he really didn’t seem to mind.

She tried looking at the pub with fresh eyes. Admittedly it was a bit rough-looking. It wasn’t just that the paint was faded and flaking, that the hanging baskets were well and truly hung (in a gallows kind of way, not in a flamboyant rioting colour kind of way) and one of the window sills was so rotten it was actually hanging off, attached by no more than a whisper and a splinter. It made her smile; she loved this place. Then she saw him catch a glance of the path by the side of the door and into the pub garden. Scramble followed his gaze and began to bark frantically.

‘Rosy, there’s a horse in the garden.’

‘Uh-huh. Are you coming in?’ This was proving more amusing than she had thought. She was so used to the pub that she forgot its ability to make a standout first impression. Matt picked the dog up to calm him.

‘Bloody hell, is that a cow next to it? Is dinner really that fresh?’
‘Don’t be daft.’ Rosy pushed on the door and headed inside.
‘It’s called The Smuggler’s Curse, for God’s sake! What are you doing? Is this some kind of trap?’

‘See you later then, I’ll be out after I’ve eaten,’ Rosy called over her shoulder.
‘It’s got an actual gravestone on its board and you’re eating here?’ Matt addressed the shut door.

Rosy popped it open from the other side. ‘I can still hear you. Man or mouse?’
‘Are those the menu choices? OK, OK, I’m coming!’

Love, Sarah

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