Happy book birthday to this beautiful book! Doesn't it look like the perfect summer read? I think it does. You can order it here.
Need help making your decision? Read the first chapter below! (If some of the spellings look a little off to my American readers, that's because it's a UK book. A certified anglophile myself, it just makes me love it all the more.)
Thanks to author, Holly Martin, for sharing the first chapter on my blog. Wishing you lots of success with your book!
Enjoy!
CHAPTER ONE
Milly
drove up the steep, curvy, cliff top lanes with the warm sun on her back and
the wind in her hair. From up here, she could see the sparkling blue of the sea
below her stretching out for miles into the horizon. It was a beautiful day,
made even lovelier by the endless yellow fields of rapeseed on the other side
of her. It smelt wonderful but she wished it was clover instead as that might
be some indication that she was going in the right direction.
She
was hopefully heading towards Clover’s Rest. The satnav had, of course, stopped
working half an hour ago and all she was left with was a flashing question mark
on the screen, indicating that the satnav had no idea where she was. Nothing
seemed to be known about the village of Clover’s Rest or Clover Castle which
presided over the tiny dwelling. It didn’t appear on any maps, and bizarrely
there was no record of it on any kind of historical documentation. That in
itself was a mystery and one Milly was keen to solve.
Dick,
her beaten up old Triumph, was having trouble with the steep gradient of the
inclines and she had spent most of the last fifteen minutes barely coming out
of first gear. Her brother, Jamie, had begged her several times to buy a new
car but her beloved white Triumph TR2 was her pride and joy.
Up
ahead, on the very summit of the hill, she suddenly saw a flash of a blue-topped
turret from behind the trees and her heart soared. But no sooner had it
appeared, it had gone.
Dick
whined as she pushed him round a very steep corner and she leaned forward and
gave him a little pat of encouragement. He spluttered and coughed, but
thankfully didn’t cut out. The handbrake wasn’t the best and she wasn’t hopeful
that Dick could cling to the road surface without sliding back to the foot of
the hill again.
Steam
started to appear from under Dick’s bonnet as she floored the accelerator and
crossed her fingers and toes. She glanced down at her multi-coloured star
bracelet and absently made a wish that she would make it to the top of the
hill.
‘Just
a little further, Dick, come on.’
Dick
was barely moving at all now, Milly could get out and walk quicker. As she
begged and pleaded with Dick to just last a little bit longer, a kid on his
bike rang his bell and scooted round her, disappearing into the trees up ahead.
How
insulting to be overtaken by a kid on a BMX. And Dick obviously thought so too
as he suddenly found a last bit of energy and groaned and coughed up the last
few metres, where the hill finally levelled out.
They
shuffled into a tunnel of trees, which swallowed her up, shutting out all the
bright daylight behind her and overhead so she was driving through a canopy of
total green. It was very dark, with just a tiny pinprick of light ahead of her
that she pushed Dick towards. Movement swirled in her rear view mirror; as she
glanced up it almost seemed like the trees were closing the gap behind her,
covering the road with their tangle of branches so there was no escape.
Dick
finally burst through the trees to the other side. Daylight temporarily blinded
her, she briefly saw some houses and a village green and then a thick plume of
white smoke burst from the engine and the village vanished from view. Dick let
out what sounded like a really big fart and then died, smoke still pouring from
underneath the bonnet.
Milly
sighed. She had asked too much of him, she knew that. It had seemed like too
good an opportunity to pass up; going out in her convertible along the seafront
when the weather was so hot, and Clover’s Rest was only supposed to be an hour
and a half away from where she lived. But Dick was over twice her age and was
only really capable of short flat journeys, nothing like the mountainous
terrain she had just traversed.
‘It’s
ok Dick, you can have a few days to have a little rest and maybe we can find someone
to tinker under your bonnet before we go home. And it’s all downhill from here
so worst case scenario, we can just roll you home. Plus we’re on holiday next
week, I promise you can stay at home every day. I intend to sit in the garden
and do nothing but read for the entire week.’
Dick
let out a sigh of relief and the smoke slowed and then stopped, revealing the
most gorgeous, picturesque village she had ever seen.
Milly
quickly got out and gazed across the village green, staring at the whitewashed
cottages like a kid in a sweet shop. The roofs were topped with yellow thatch
that glinted like gold in the sunlight. They were a hodgepodge collection; the
nearest ones to her were timber framed and the ones on the far side were made
from stone. But all of them came with their unique lumps and bumps, jutting out
bits of stone or bent bits of timber indicating that these houses were hundreds
of years old.
She
quickly grabbed her suitcase, gave Dick an affectionate pat, and abandoned him
on the edge of the green as she walked in awe along the cobbled road.
The
historian in her picked out key features in the houses straight away. Of course
without certain dating tests it would be hard to be specific, but the first house
on the green had to be at least four hundred years old, which meant it should
be a listed building. But there had been nothing in any historical documents or
files that even indicated this place existed, let alone had listed buildings.
Her
toes curled with pleasure at the prospect of what this mysterious Clover Castle
looked like. Was it possible that she was going to round the corner of the
green and see a sixteenth century undiscovered jewel?
She
approached the nearest house and ran her hand appreciatively up the oak timber
frame. There was something incredible and humbling about touching something
that had been around for hundreds of years. What had this building seen and
heard, what stories could it tell?
She
leaned closer to the wood and sniffed it. The rich smells of smoke, wood and
earth engulfed her and she smiled.
She
suddenly realised she wasn’t alone. Milly looked up from the wood into the bulbous
eyes of an old man, dressed in a tatty suit. His skin seemed to have shrunk
against his bones, making his eyes seem more bulging and protruding. He was
chewing on what looked like a small stone, rolling it around his mouth and back
again as if he was trying to work out what it tasted like. His white hair stuck
out making him look like he was a crazy scientist but he was looking at her as
if she was insane, which she supposed
she was, standing on someone’s front lawn stroking and smelling the side of the
house.
He
took a drag of his cigarette and then flicked it into the nearby bushes. She
winced at the desecration of such a historic place but chose to ignore it as he
still had the moral high ground at the moment, being the slightly saner one of
the two.
‘You
can’t leave your car there,’ said the man, indicating poor Dick, who looked so deflated
and exhausted that even his headlights seemed to be drooping. ‘It’s double
yellow lines.’
Sure
enough, double yellow lines covered the roads on both sides, as if it was a
main road through a busy city rather than a tiny remote village with probably no
more than thirty houses. But closer inspection showed the lines to be very
wobbly and most likely hand painted. Who would do such a thing? Traffic clearly
wasn’t a problem up here, there wasn’t even another car in sight and Dick
wasn’t blocking up the road, which was wide enough for two cars to pass easily
in both directions.
‘Well
unfortunately my car broke down, so it will have to stay there until I can get
someone to have a look at it.’
The
man sucked air through his teeth and shook his head. ‘Igor won’t like that.
It’s likely the car will be towed.’
Igor?
Wasn’t that the name of Dracula’s assistant?
‘Sorry,
what did you say your name was?’ Milly asked, deliberately.
‘Danny.’
‘Danny,
I’m sure Igor will understand that a broken down car is not my fault. I’m a
guest of Lord Heartstone, so if there’s any problem Igor can come and see me at
the castle.’
Milly
hoped that using Cameron’s name and title would be enough to get Danny to leave
her and Dick alone, but that wasn’t the case. Danny’s face suddenly filled with
disdain.
‘He
isn’t exactly Mr Popular round here at the moment. He’s only been back here a
few months and he’s sacked all the staff already. Grumpy sod, too, keeps
himself to himself.’
‘Well
it’s a big responsibility to suddenly inherit a castle, I’m sure it will take a
period of adjustment. I’m here to see if I can help him.’
She
spotted a flag flying above the trees and grabbed her suitcase and started
walking towards it, hoping that Danny wouldn’t follow her, but he did.
‘It’s
the Summer Solstice this weekend, we always have a big celebration and he won’t
even be a part of it.’
‘Well
maybe I can talk to him.’
She
squinted at the flag, it wasn’t like any she had ever seen before. It was hard
to see from this distance what was on it, but it looked like a dragon eating a
heart.
‘Are
you staying up there?’ Danny yelled after her, finally giving up following her.
‘Yes,
for a week.’
‘You’ll
never leave. Those that stay there never leave.’
She
stared at him. These sinister words sent shivers down her spine.
‘And
whatever you do, don’t go out after midnight. The Oogie will get you.’
‘The
Oogie?’
‘A
sea monster who eats unwanted visitors.’
‘That’s
a local myth, surely.’
Danny
shook his head. ‘The village has lost lots of victims to the Oogie. Just don’t
go out after midnight and make sure you keep all the doors and windows locked
at night.’
He
was clearly joking or just insane. Danny wandered off and she stared after him,
realising he was only wearing one shoe. Definitely insane. She looked around at
this calm, tranquil little village. With the bright sunshine beating down on
the little houses, the scent of the roses that twisted round all the doors, she
wasn’t going to let some crazy nonsense about a sea monster bring her down.
She
had a castle to look at and she couldn’t wait to see it.
Milly
walked round the corner into the trees. Up ahead she could see some large,
highly decorative wrought iron gates, with swirls and flowers. The gate was
probably Victorian or Edwardian. It was very pretty but her heart sank a little
bit. It didn’t necessarily mean that the castle was from that era, but she
hoped it wasn’t. Castle Heritage, who she worked for, would have nothing to do
with the castle if it was from the Edwardian era. They were only interested in
ancient relics, particularly those from the medieval period.
She
wanted to help Cameron, she really did. She had spoken to him a few times on
the phone and he’d sounded desperate. He had this deep, rich, voice that
sounded velvety and she guessed he was about fifty years old. She had a way of accurately
estimating people’s ages too, not just the age of houses.
It
was the stuff of dreams to wake up one morning and find that not only were you
a Lord but one that owned a castle too, yet from speaking to Cameron it seemed
it was more like a nightmare than a dream.
He’d
spoken to her about burst pipes, broken windows, rotting walls, crumbling
masonry and a severe damp problem. It wasn’t the inheritance that he had hoped
it would be.
If
the castle was old enough, Castle Heritage would probably buy it off him or, at
the very least, pay to have these things repaired and maintain the upkeep of
the place. They might even make it into a tourist attraction if they thought it
was a viable option. If she thought
it was a viable option. That’s what she was here to assess. The steep incline of
the hill was definitely a negative point. Thousands of people every year
visited the big castles in the UK. The road she and Dick had driven up earlier
couldn’t sustain that many visitors, nor could the tiny village. But if the
property was worth it, her company would pay to improve the road too.
She
ran her fingers over her multi-coloured star bracelet, as she always did when
she wanted something really badly. Most of the time the bracelet let her down
but occasionally her wishes came true. Singing the first few lines of the song ‘When
You Wish Upon A Star’ in her head,
she closed her eyes and made a wish. ‘Let the castle be something truly
spectacular,’ she whispered.
She
opened the gate and it creaked in protest. Clouds skittered across the sun,
casting long shadows across the curved drive. As she stepped through the
entrance, a cool wind whipped around her, dragging her blonde hair into her
face. The wispy summer dress she was wearing hardly seemed appropriate all of a
sudden, she should at least have worn a jacket or a cardigan. English weather
was always so unpredictable.
She
shivered and walked round the corner, pushing the hair out of her eyes so she
could get her first glimpse of Clover Castle. And suddenly there it was.
Her
heart soared. For someone who had grown up obsessed with all things Disney, and
still loved Disney now, years after it was socially acceptable for her to do
so, seeing what was quite obviously a real life Cinderella’s castle in front of
her was something out of her wildest dreams. Turrets jutted out from all parts
of the castle, some protruding out of other turrets. There were four towers,
all topped with conical blue spires. From her position at the foot of the
drive, she could see twenty-three blue spires, some of which topped the
turrets, some that were simply large conical topped pinnacles that didn’t seem
to have any purpose other than for decoration. Each spire had a long, gold
flagpole on the top with a scarlet banner, apart from the large flag in the
middle that had that weird dragon design. She stared at the flag for a moment,
although very different in its design, the theme of the dragon wrapped
protectively around the heart was eerily similar to the tattoo she had on her
right side.
The
castle was beautiful but her heart had already plummeted into her shoes. This
couldn’t be any more than a hundred years old. It looked Bavarian in its design
and was built purely for enjoyment and certainly not to protect.
There
was a splendid drawbridge in the middle of the front castle wall but as she
walked up the drive she could see there was no moat for the drawbridge to go
over.
It
seemed as though, at some point over the last hundred years, someone had
decided to build a castle, looked at what features other castles had and
decided to have one of everything – whether it was needed or not. Or in the
case of the spires, twenty-three of them.
Standing
on the hilltop with the sea framed dramatically behind it, the castle was an
incredible sight. It was magical and arrogant and wonderful all at the same
time and … Castle Heritage wouldn’t come anywhere near it.
She
might as well turn round and head home now. Her birthday was later this week,
and she didn’t really want to be working on her birthday. If she left now she
might even be able to start her holiday a few days early. But she had promised
Cameron she would stay for a week to do all the tests and surveys. He had
already paid Castle Heritage quite a significant sum for her time and services
and although she could refund the money there must be something she could do to
help him. At the very least she could stay for a couple of days in order to get
a feel for the place.
She
couldn’t feel too disappointed at her wasted trip, the place was spectacular
and she got to sleep here, hopefully in a room fit for a princess in one of the
tallest towers.
As
she stared up in wonder at this thing of beauty, she heard two deep barks. She
turned in time to see a heap of black, shaggy fur before she was knocked to the
ground.
‘Gregory,
NO!’ a deep voice yelled out.
But
Gregory, if that was indeed the beast’s name, was not to be dissuaded. Standing
over her, Gregory started bathing her face in pungent wet licks, his coarse
tongue tickling her face and making her giggle.
Suddenly
the dog was snatched from over her and she was yanked to her feet. She slammed
into a hard wall of muscle and looked up into a pair of eyes that were so dark
they were almost black. Dark, curly hair topped his head, but she was too close
to see any other features. He smelt amazing though, all woody and earthy and
wonderful.
‘Oh God,
I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise I pulled you so hard.’ He took a step back and
Milly stared up at him, aware that her throat was completely dry. This guy was
frigging hot. Dark stubble lined his jaw bone. He was huge too, muscles
screaming from every single part of him. He was wearing a suit that was very
tight around his broad, muscular shoulders. She felt very under-dressed all of
a sudden in her beach dress and sparkly pink Converse trainers.
‘Oh God,
your dress, I’m so sorry.’ He stepped forward and brushed her breasts, trying
to wipe off the two muddy paw prints that had been imprinted onto the material.
His face immediately turned pale as he realised what he had done. He leapt
back, looking horrified. ‘I’m so sorry. I … God, I’m so sorry.’
Milly
couldn’t help but take pity on him.
‘It’s
not the usual greeting I get, normally a handshake would suffice.’
He
stared at her for a moment, then laughed, a deep, booming laugh. He offered out
his large bear paw of a hand, and she shook it. ‘I’m Cameron Heartstone.’
This
gorgeous man was Cameron Heartstone? She had expected someone so much older,
probably smoking a pipe and wearing tartan slippers.
‘Milly
Rose. We spoke on the phone. It’s good to finally meet you.’
‘Yes
of course, come in.’ He bent down to pick up her discarded suitcase. ‘Gregory,
Sit! Stay!’ He commanded the black, hairy beast by his side. Gregory was so big
Milly thought she might be able to ride him. His eyes were lost under a mass of
fur, his pink tongue lolling out the side of his face. He gave a wag of his
tail before running off and disappearing round the side of the castle. Clearly
very obedient. Cameron sighed and ushered her through a small side door, with
his hand in the small of her back. ‘He’s not my dog, he sort of came with the
castle. The first day I arrived he turned up and hasn’t left since. He doesn’t
belong to anyone in the village, so I guess I’m stuck with him.’
He
was clearly nervous, though she wasn’t sure why. He pulled at his collar,
obviously not comfortable wearing a shirt and tie. Had he dressed up for her?
She
stepped through into a warm kitchen, with a large wooden table standing in the
middle and wooden benches either side. The walls were painted a cosy
terracotta. Delicious, tangy smells reached her and her stomach gurgled
appreciatively. An Aga stood at one end of the room and something was bubbling
away in a huge pot on top.
‘I’ll
make us some lunch. Will your boss be joining us soon?’
‘My
boss? I don’t really have one. Well, the board of directors at Castle Heritage
are sort of my bosses, but I mainly work for myself.’
Her
heart sank a bit. He had been expecting someone older, too.
‘Oh,
well, the science people, the historians, the ones who will do all the tests?’
‘That
would be me.’
He
stared at her, disappointment registering on his face. He looked her up and
down disdainfully. ‘They’ve sent me a child, is this someone’s idea of a joke?
Your idea of history is probably what happened in EastEnders last week.’
Milly
felt her mouth fall open. She was used to getting some prejudice when she
turned up at these historic places. With her long blonde hair, large blue eyes
and Mary Poppins style rosy cheeks, no one thought she was capable of having any
knowledge of history at all. She knew she didn’t help these first impressions
by having pink tipped hair and sparkly clothes and shoes, but generally the comments
she got were little jokes. That remark about her historical knowledge hurt. And
she had never been called a child before. This man couldn’t be any more than
five years older than she was, although, being so short, she knew she looked a
lot younger than her actual age.
She
drew herself up to her full height, which did nothing to diminish the height
difference between them.
‘I am
not a child. I’m twenty-eight years old. You judgemental ass. You see the
blonde hair and the pretty dress and automatically assume that I’m some kind of
bimbo. I have a Doctorate in Archaeology and Historic Architecture. I have a
Master of Science degree in Heritage Conservation and a Bachelor of Science degree
in Medieval History. I have extensive experience in dendrochronological and
geophysical surveying and my PhD studies required detailed research into archaeological
remains, excavation and historic building construction. I guarantee I know more
about this castle than you could possibly ever know but if that isn’t good
enough for you, I will quite happily leave right now and take every chance of
you ever working with Castle Heritage with me.’
She
stormed to the door but he beat her to it, slamming it closed before she’d only
opened it an inch.
‘You
can’t leave.’
‘Just
watch me.’ She tugged at the door but he leaned against it, so it didn’t budge.
She tried again.
‘I’m
sorry.’
She
stopped tugging, but didn’t let go of the handle.
‘I
really am.’
She
looked up at him and his eyes were honest and concerned.
‘I’ve
hurt you and it really wasn’t my intention to do that. It’s been a really bad
couple of weeks, well, a bad couple of months if I’m honest. Since my dad died
and I inherited this place, it’s been one problem after another. He was in so
much debt and that debt doesn’t appear to have died with him. There is no money
in this estate, none at all, and he was still paying all the staff here right
up till he died but I can’t see how or where the money came from. I’ve had to
let them all go, which means everyone in the village hates me and I’ve been
going through all his paperwork and keep uncovering more and more problems. Without
the staff the place will fall into ruin. I have no money for any of the repairs
or to pay any of his debts and quite frankly the idea of selling the place to
Palace Hotels and making it into a five star resort is looking very appealing
right now. You are my last hope. I looked at you and thought …’
‘You
thought wrong.’
‘I
know, I’m sorry, I had no right to judge you by your appearance. I’m a terrible
judge of character, I really am. I should have learned my lesson by now, not to
judge a book by its cover. The people I’ve trusted have sold me out and
betrayed me. I’ve had my share of model girlfriends, the types that look good
on your arm but with not a lot else going for them and … I … Well, I’m really
sorry. Please stay, at least have some lunch whilst I beg your forgiveness some
more.’
Milly
felt all the fight go out of her. She couldn’t hold a grudge for long. Besides,
she was starving and the soup that was bubbling on top of the stove smelt
amazing.
‘Ok.
I’ll stay for lunch, but it depends how good the soup is whether I stay longer.’
His
mouth lifted up into small, cautious smile and he gestured for her to sit down.
‘There’s
a hell of a lot riding on this soup then. If I’d known that perhaps I would
have thought about the recipe a little more carefully instead of just throwing
everything into the pot with a bit of seasoning.’
She
sat down on the bench and watched him fill two big bowls. There was nothing
graceful about him. The soup splatted into the bowl and over the sides and he
didn’t seem to care. There were big chunks of meat, large slices of potato,
whole florets of cauliflower, all of which should have been blended or at least
chopped smaller. He grabbed a large round loaf and tore it into chunks. He
plonked the bowl down in front of her and left her half of the loaf on the
table next to her bowl, not even on a plate. The man really had no finesse. He
sat down opposite her and took a big bite of the bread. He was like a caveman
and strangely she found his raw masculinity a bit of a turn on.
‘Do
you normally have such gay abandon with your food?’
He
paused with the spoon halfway to his mouth. ‘It seems to work.’
He
gestured for her to try it and she took a small sip from her spoon. It was
incredible, so thick and full of flavour. ‘It’s really good. Did you make the
bread too?’
He
nodded, before biting off another huge chunk from his loaf. ‘It’s potato bread.’
She
took a small piece and bit into it. It tasted delicious. ‘You’re actually
really good at this “throw it all into the pot and see if it works” method.’
He
shrugged shyly. ‘It’s kind of how I write my books, too.’
‘What
kind of books do you write?’
‘Children’s
books, with magical forests and super powers and fantasy adventures. But I
never plan anything or follow any set rules. A lot of my author friends will
have post it notes and charts and character interviews or CVs but I never do
any of that, I just sit down and write. People seem to like it. I mean, I have
enough to live off and pay the bills but I’m not going to be buying an island
in the Caribbean any time soon.’
‘Well
if you have enough money to write full time, you must be doing something right.’
He
shrugged again, obviously not keen to admit that he was any good.
‘I’d
like to read them.’
He
shook his head. ‘They’re just kids’ stuff, not your thing at all, I’m sure.’
‘As
we’ve already established, my thing is very different to what you think my
thing is.’
‘Right,
of course.’ He swallowed a big lump of bread and didn’t look up at all after
that.
She
sighed. She didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable around her. She already
regretted her little outburst earlier, she was normally much more professional
than that.
‘Thank
you for letting me stay, there was nowhere else anywhere near here apart from
the tiny B&B I booked and when their pipes burst and flooded the house, I
was at a bit of a loss for what to do.’
‘It’s
fine,’ Cameron said, in a way that said it really wasn’t fine.
‘Don’t
feel that you have to cook for me or anything. This is lovely,’ she gestured to
the soup. ‘But I can look after myself. I presume the village has a shop. I can
buy some food and make my own meals. You don’t have to worry about that.’
‘I
have food here, it’s silly for both of us to be cooking separate meals, unless
you’re on some weird diet,’ he glanced briefly at her slender frame. People
always assumed she ate really healthily when the truth was miles apart.
‘I
eat anything.’
‘Then
we might as well eat together.’
‘I
don’t want to be in your way.’
‘You
won’t. I have work to do and you’ll have tests and measurements to do so I hope
… I mean I guess we won’t be getting in each other’s hair too much.’
He
didn’t want her there and her heart sank even more at this. Well, if he didn’t
want her to stay and she probably couldn’t help him anyway, maybe she would
only stay one night after all.
‘Tell
me about the castle.’
He
looked across the table at her. ‘I don’t know a lot. I used to live here when I
was very young, but my mum took me away when I was about six. I never saw my
dad after that and I never came back here either. They were always arguing,
mainly about the lack of money, even back then. Mum wanted to sell the place
and move, my dad refused, so she left. I know it’s been in the family for
hundreds of years, hence the rather obnoxious title of Lord that I’ve been
bequeathed.’
Milly
sat up straighter. The castle she had seen from the outside was not hundreds of
years old, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been some recent modifications to
the original structure. Perhaps the Cinderella
façade was hiding something far more exciting and mysterious.
***
If
you enjoyed the first chapter of Fairytale Beginnings, you can download the
whole book here. Its only 99p for the next few days.
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