Tuesday, 19 February 2019

Blog Tour: Extract From Coming Home to Holly Close Farm by Julie Houston


I am very excited to be part of the blog tour today for Coming home to Holly Close Farm by Julie Houston. The books was released in the UK on 5th February and you can click here to order your copy if you enjoy the extract below! Don't forget to visit the other stops on the tour for more exclusive content and reviews!

Here's what it's all about:

Charlie Maddison loves being an architect in London, but when she finds out her boyfriend, Dominic, is actually married, she runs back to the beautiful countryside of Westenbury and her parents.

Charlie’s sister Daisy, a landscape gardener, is also back home in desperate need of company and some fun. Their great-grandmother, Madge – now in her early nineties - reveals she has a house, Holly Close Farm, mysteriously abandoned over sixty years ago, and persuades the girls to project manage its renovation.

As work gets underway, the sisters start uncovering their family’s history, and the dark secrets that are hidden at the Farm.

 A heart-breaking tale of wartime romance, jealousy and betrayal slowly emerges, but with a moral at its end: true love can withstand any obstacle, and, before long, Charlie dares to believe in love again too…


Here's that extract you've been waiting for...

‘So, what happened to your career as waitress in the sky?’ I hugged my younger sister before flopping down onto her bed and, closing my eyes, tried to shut out the awful events of the day.
‘Cunnilingus finished me off.’
‘Sorry?’ I opened one eye and squinted at Daisy. ‘I can’t take you seriously with that purple stuff on your hair and white stuff above your lips.’
‘I’ve no money to get my hair done at the hairdresser so I’m touching up the roots myself – I borrowed Vivienne’s toothbrush to do the job: she’s the only one without an electric one round here – and for some reason I seem to be sprouting a moustache suddenly, so I’m bleaching that as well. I blame all the fumes I’ve had to breathe in while walking up and down that damned cabin.’
I looked at Daisy doubtfully. ‘Fumes give you a moustache? Never heard that one before. You’re just getting old. By the time you’re thirty you’ll probably have a beard that’ll give Rip Van Winkle a run for his money.’
‘Shit, do you think so?’ Daisy felt her chin before scrutinising her face in the mirror. ‘My eyebrows are sprouting as well. Raphael said to me the other week, “Eets like being in bed wiz Denees Healey.”’
I tutted. ‘Cheeky sod. You should have asked the little frog how he knew what being in bed wiz Denees Healey was like.’
We both cackled at that and I felt a bit better that Daisy was having a few problems on the man front too. No matter how much you might adore your sister, you don’t want her to be one up on you, especially when she’s two years younger than you.
‘You do know you can’t call the French Frogs any more,’ Daisy tutted in turn. ‘I thought you’d have learned that, living in London. Totally and utterly not PC. Anyway, the little frog’s on the way out, I reckon, especially as I’ll no longer be meeting up with him at Charles De Gaulle: Terminal 2D. He’ll have to concentrate on handling baggage rather than me in future.’ Daisy lay down on the bed beside me, shoving me up towards the wall as she did so. ‘Blimey, it’s jolly hard work keeping your face tilted upwards so this vile-smelling stuff doesn’t slide down into your mouth.’
‘And the cunnilingus?’ I closed my eyes again and snuggled under Daisy’s duvet. It felt warm and safe and I wanted to hide there for ever, shutting out the events of the past few hours.
Daisy laughed. ‘It was so boring up there in the sky that, once we’d served the drinks, food, duty free and slapped down the wandering drunks and gropers, we’d come up with ways to entertain ourselves.’
‘Couldn’t you just strap yourself in and have a snooze?’
Daisy tutted. ‘Having a kip thirty-five thousand feet up is hardly professional.’
‘And indulging in a mile-high sex act is? So, you entertained yourselves with a bit of covert oral sex? With whom? Not the pilot, I hope?’
Daisy laughed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Have you seen the size of a cockpit on a charter plane to Malaga?’
‘It wasn’t the cock pit I was imagining.’ I opened one eye and raised its eyebrow in her direction.
Daisy laughed again. ‘If living in London has given you such a vivid imagination, it’s probably time you came back north. Anyway, in order to overcome the total monotony of trailing up and down the aisle, we set ourselves little tasks. The task for the day was for a crew member to get the word cunnilingus into a sentence over the public-address system.’
‘Right.’ I yawned. It all sounded terribly juvenile. ‘As in, please be aware that cunnilingus, like smoking, is not permitted in the aircraft toilet?’
‘Do you want to hear how clever I was, or not?’
‘Sorry, go on.’
‘So, over the speaker I said, “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. The seat belt sign is still illuminated so please ensure you’re strapped in. There does appear to be some turbulence, which may give a bit of a bumpy ride. It could be there for a while as it appears to be the sort that kinda lingers…’


About the author


Julie Houston is the author of THE ONE SAVING GRACE, GOODNESS, GRACE AND ME and LOOKING FOR LUCY, a Kindle top 100 general bestseller and a Kindle #1 bestseller. She is married, with two teenage children and a mad cockerpoo and, like her heroine, lives in a West Yorkshire village. She is also a teacher and a magistrate.

Follow Julie:

Twitter: @juliehouston2

Facebook: @JulieHoustonauthor

Buy links:
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2Ul2evq

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