Breakfast Under A Cornish Sun: The perfect romantic comedy for summer. Samantha Tonge

Breakfast Under A Cornish Sun: The perfect romantic comedy for summer - Samantha  Tonge


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      SAMANTHA TONGE lives in Cheshire with her lovely family and a cat who thinks it’s a dog. Along with writing, her days are spent cycling, willing cakes to rise and avoiding housework. A love of fiction developed as a child, when she was known for reading Enid Blyton books in the bath. A desire to write bubbled away in the background whilst she pursued other careers, including a fun stint working at Disneyland Paris. Formally trained as a linguist, Samantha now likes nothing more than holing herself up in the spare room, in front of the keyboard. Writing romantic comedy novels is her passion.

       http://samanthatonge.co.uk/

       https://twitter.com/SamTongeWriter

       https://www.facebook.com/SamanthaTongeAuthor

      Breakfast Under a Cornish Sun

      Samantha Tonge

      HQ

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

      First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2016

      Copyright © Samantha Tonge 2016

      Samantha Tonge asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

      E-book Edition © July 2016 ISBN: 9780008184841

      Version date: 2018-06-20

      Thanks for always believing in me, Mum. I miss you more than words can say.

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       About the Author

       Title Page

       Dedication

       CHAPTER 6

       CHAPTER 7

       CHAPTER 8

       CHAPTER 9

       CHAPTER 10

       CHAPTER 11

       CHAPTER 12

       CHAPTER 13

       CHAPTER 14

       CHAPTER 15

       CHAPTER 16

       CHAPTER 17

       CHAPTER 18

       CHAPTER 19

       EPILOGUE

       ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

       Extract

       CHAPTER ONE

       About the Publisher

      Taut bare chest boasting a natural-looking six-pack. Muscular arms wielding a scythe. Raven curls rippling in the breeze. Smouldering expression tense as the grass-cutting implement is raised in the air. The hint of manly, musky perspiration. All this set against rugged Cornish countryside …

      Mmm. Thanks to scenes from my Poldark box set, any free window of time in my head is easily filled. For those of you unfamiliar with the hit Cornish mining television series, book yourself a doctor’s appointment. You must be seriously loopy—as in out of the loop!

      OK. Apologies. Perhaps that was a bit rude. Not everyone, like me, is a self-confessed geek when it comes to historical books and films—for example, did you know the original title for Pride and Prejudice was First Impressions? Talking of which, I probably didn’t look my most appealing at the moment, having just bitten into a black cherry doughnut. I suspected a splodge of the filling had stuck to my nose. But mmm … the oozing maroon sauce tasted almost alcoholic and offered the same effect as a cheerful cocktail—that is a feel-good warmth flowing down my throat to the rest of my body.

      Eyes closed, I made an appreciative noise as I savoured another bite, its piquant flavours heightened by a mouthful of rich hot espresso.

      ‘Dreaming of unpaid overtime, are, you? Honestly, Kate, stop being such a workaholic.’

      ‘Ha, ha—aren’t you funny?’ I opened my eyes. ‘Not that paying me more would be a problem,


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