New Publication Spotlight & Extract: Autumn in Sycamore Park by C.P. Ward

Autumn in Sycamore Park by C.P. Ward

The first in a new romantic comedy series from CP Ward, author of Christmas at Marshmallow Café and Summer at Blue Sands Cove.

Having fled a relationship and a previous life she would rather forget, young teacher Jennifer Stevens throws herself into a demanding new job at Brentwell Primary. Charged with marshalling a group of unruly eight-year-olds to the autumn harvest festival, her only solace is the peace of nearby Sycamore Park.

As the evenings draw in and the leaves begin to fall, will new friends, delicious autumn treats, and a possible new man on the orange-tinted horizon help Jennifer finally come to terms with her past and begin to look forward into the future?

Autumn at Sycamore Park is another delightful romantic comedy from CP Ward, author of several popular seasonally themed novels. Set against a backdrop of warm autumn days, it offers everything fans of CP Ward’s other books have come to love: laughter, friendship, good times, and a hint of newly discovered love.

Jennifer meets Angela for the first time

From here you could see the whole park. The main walking path made a complete circle, with numerous other pathways leading to monuments or secluded play areas. To the south and east, the surrounding streets were residential, with the thickest patch of trees and the theatre over to the west. To the north, a small car park stood beside the library, a two-storey Georgian building. Outside were a newspaper stand and a couple of other stalls, now closed. Down a small, tree-lined side road on the library’s right, tables and chairs were set out on a pedestrian-only street, a signboard Jennifer couldn’t read at this distance standing among them.

‘Shall we go and take a look?’ Jennifer said to the little dog, who had sat down on the grass and was watching her, tongue lolling. ‘Might be a bit more interesting than dinner out of a plastic packet. Do you think James will mind?’

The dog gave her a little bark and wagged his tail. Of course the cat wouldn’t mind.

‘Let’s go, then.’

She attached Bonky’s harness again and headed down the slope. The library was closed—at six p.m., a sign on the door said—but the little café appeared to be open, even though no one was sitting outside. Jennifer paused, looking at the sign over the door.

Oak Leaf Café.

The front was wood paneled with the name carved into a larger piece over the door. The tables were also wooden, and while Jennifer suspected they were pine rather than oak, each had a little vase of autumn twigs and leaves in the centre, adding to the quaintness. Next to a triangular menu, salt and pepper pots were also made out of wood.

‘What do you think?’ she said to the little dog, who appeared insistent on inspecting each chair leg in turn. ‘Although, it’s a little chilly.’

‘Feel free to bring the little guy inside,’ came a voice from the doorway, and Jennifer looked up to see a middle-aged woman leaning on the door frame, wearing a maple leaf-designed apron over jeans and a white t-shirt. Grey-flecked light brown hair was tied back into a ponytail. Bright green eyes sparkled through the glasses she wore, and a face that still retained a hint of youthful beauty gave Jennifer a warm smile.

‘Oh, would that be all right?’

The woman waved. ‘Sure. I’ve even got some food out the back somewhere if he’s hungry.’

‘Well, thank you.’

‘Come in and have a look at the menu if you’re interested. I love the wind off the park in this season, but it gets a little chilly once the sun goes behind the theatre.’

Jennifer went into a pretty, wood-paneled interior. Six wooden tables stood neatly arranged in front of a countertop. In little nooks and alcoves, pots of dried flowers stood, giving off a gentle lavender aroma. On the wall, framed posters identified various varieties of pumpkins and squashes. Antique cooking pots and utensils lined shelves in front of the windows delicately framed with lace curtains.

One table by the window had a view of Sycamore Park. ‘That one,’ Jennifer said. ‘I’d like to sit there, please.’

‘Take your pick,’ the woman said. ‘We’re not exactly bursting at the seams.’ She smiled again. ‘My name is Angela. Angela Dawson. With only the two of us here, I don’t think it would be proper to remain strangers, would it?’

‘I suppose not. I’m Jennifer. Jennifer Stevens. I just moved to Brentwell. Yesterday, actually. I work at the local primary. Today was my first day.’

‘Busy times! I don’t know how you young people handle it. I get tired just walking around the park in the morning. And who’s this little guy?’

Angela bent down to pet Bonky, who lapped up the attention with a frantic wag of his tail.

‘Ah, his name is Bonky. He’s two years old.’

‘I had a toy poodle as a child, many, many years ago. Lovely little things.’ Angela stood up. ‘Bonky? That’s … interesting.’

For the first year or so, Jennifer had always felt a flush off embarrassment telling people the name of her dog, but she had got used to it. After all, it was just a name, albeit a little unusual.

‘Yeah, the kids at my old school chose it. I was having a few issues with some of them, and I thought getting them to choose the name for my dog would be a form of bonding. I was expecting something generic like Harry or Rover, but … nope. Bonky. They came up with Bonky.’ She shrugged. ‘And so it stuck.’

‘Well, it’s kind of cute, isn’t it?’

Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09NMG5CFR

Apple

https://books.apple.com/jp/book/autumn-in-sycamore-park/id1600201320

Barnes & Noble

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/autumn-in-sycamore-park-cp-ward/1140781886

Kobo

https://www.kobo.com/ja/ebook/autumn-in-sycamore-park

CP Ward is a writer from the UK who currently lives and works in Nagano, Japan. For more information, please visit http://www.amillionmilesfromanywhere.net/cp-ward.html

http://www.amillionmilesfromanywhere.net/cp-ward.html

New Publication Spotlight with an Extract: Summer at Blue Sands Cove by C.P. Ward

Summer at Blue Sands Cove by C.P. Ward

Tired of the city, Grace Clelland returns to Blue Sands, the quiet Cornish seaside village where she grew up. There she will meet old flames and old friends, rekindle old loves and ignite new ones in a novel that will have you dreaming of the soft crash of the waves on the shore, the feel of sand between your toes, overloaded ice-creams and smoky beach barbeques.

Summer at Blue Sands Cove – Grace gets Dumped

One of the catalysts for Grace moving back home is when her sports fanatic boyfriend dumps her.

It didn’t bode well that Gavin suggested a neutral location for their evening meeting, a park which happened to be a couple of miles closer to his place than to hers. She got off the bus, walked up the street and through the park gate, only to be confronted with Gavin standing by a fountain in his running gear, already warming up.

‘Hi,’ Grace said, approaching him. ‘Should I have come prepared? I dressed for something a little more casual.’

Gavin shook his head. ‘You look fine.’

Fine. Just fine. It was what her mother would have said before a job interview.

He was all thick shoulders, lyrca running trousers, and an expensive Mont Bell running jacket, his breath puffing out in little gasps as he pumped his legs up and down.

‘Did you want me to hold your stopwatch or something?’ Grace asked, the sinking feeling that had left her unable to eat anything after lunch making way for something just a little more hopeful, that her sports-mad new boyfriend wanted something other than what she had been suspecting all day. Perhaps he was planning to run around the world or something. Only five people had supposedly done it, and while it might mean they were apart for most of the next two years, at least it was something she could—in a superficial way, at least—support.

‘I wanted to talk. About us.’

Nope. It was heading in the same direction that her other relationships had gone.

‘Look, just get it over with. I like you, Gavin, but it’s only been a couple of months. I can handle it. You don’t think we fit well enough. That’s okay.’

It wouldn’t matter that it was the fourth guy in three years who would duck out before the three-month mark had passed. Grace would get over it; she would drink and message-Joan her way through it, like she had the previous three. The world wouldn’t end, even if it felt like it might for a while.

Gavin gave her a pained smile. ‘You’re kind, Grace,’ he said. ‘And there’s a lot to like about you. I mean it. It’s just … there are a couple of things.’

Which I don’t need to hear.

‘Like what?’

Gavin grimaced again and Grace hoped he would save her the humiliation of a list. But when he cleared his throat, she knew it was coming. Perhaps that was why he had worn his running gear: so he could get away.

‘You get up too late,’ he said. ‘I mean, you’re not going to get anywhere in life getting up at seven, are you? The day’s half done. And you have no ambition. You’re what, thirty-five and you work in a café.’

‘I’m twenty-eight.’

Gavin sighed. ‘Well, you look thirty-five. Okay, maybe that’s harsh. Thirty-two at least. It must be the way you do your hair. I mean, can’t you go somewhere a little more upmarket?’

Instead of ripping off one of her shoes and hitting him around the head with it, Grace just felt an easy sense of resignation. Best to let him have his moment and be done with it.

‘I have a mortgage to pay,’ she said. ‘I don’t live with my parents, Gavin.’

He scowled. ‘That was cheap. It’s temporary.’

‘You’re calling me cheap?’

He obviously misunderstood. ‘Look, I appreciate that you always contribute to dinner when we go out, picking up the odd.’

‘I always pay half! It’s you who “picks up the odd”.’

Gavin ignored her. ‘It’s very modern of you. But your money doesn’t impress me.’

Grace sighed. ‘You’d have low standards if it did.’

‘I’m just not a materialistic guy.’

Grace could have picked five labels off his current attire which suggested otherwise, but she was too tired to prolong this torture any longer than necessary.

‘Goodbye, Gavin. It was nice, for a while.’

She started to turn away, but he danced around her like some kind of exercise fairy, doing little sidesteps, puffing out his breath in short, sharp gasps.

It gave me night terrors. I thought I’d got over my childhood traumas, but since I met you, the nightmares I’ve had … they’ve been strong. I’ll say that. Strong.’

‘I’m sorry that your childhood sucked.’

Gavin shook his head. ‘I opened the car door and fell out on my parents’ drive when I was just five years old,’ he said. ‘A lorry was passing on the other side of the street, and the sound left me crying for a week. So my mother said. And your snoring brought that sound back. I’m going to a therapist tomorrow. I don’t like to say this, but I think you could have ruined my life.’

 https://books2read.com/Summer-at-blue-sands-cove

 CP Ward is an author from the UK who currently lives and works in Japan. For more information, please visit http://www.amillionmilesfromanywhere.net/cp-ward.html

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