Title: What Happens in Cornwall...
Author: T.A. Williams
Release Date: July 20, 2015
Genres: Chick Lit
Publisher: Carina UK
Synopsis: When archaeologist Sam realises her relationship is as dead as the skeletons she’s exhuming, she knows it’s time to make a change. But with bills to pay her options are limited…until a discovery on Rock Island in Cornwall gives her a reason to escape…
In Cornwall, questions are thrown up at every turn: who is the glamorous owner of Rock Island that the paparazzi are so interested in? How has the irresistible, but impossibly arrogant, history professor James Courtney managed to get so far under Sam’s skin? And will it ever stop raining so Sam can lose the cagoule and sip a cool drink in the sun? One thing’s for sure: there’s never been a holiday quite like this one!
BOOK EXCERPT #1:
At nine-thirty on the Sunday evening, fortified by a large glass of Chardonnay each and bearing a bottle of Rioja as an offering, they turned up at the party. It wasn’t in a scruffy terraced house in the heart of student town, but in a fine Georgian villa, high on the hill above the university, with a terrific view across the historic city. Even more surprising was the fact that the music was provided, not by a tattooed DJ with an earring and a couple of battered loudspeakers, but by a string quartet set up under a pergola of exquisite white roses. As they rounded the side of the house and took in the scene, both of them stopped dead in astonishment. They glanced at each other, the same thought on both their minds.
‘Bugger! We should have dressed up.’ Sam looked down at her shorts and regretted her decision not to go with a dress. Beside her, Becky was doing her best to tug her very short skirt down to her knees without baring her bottom.
‘There’s something about Bach, isn’t there?’
They turned towards the voice. It emanated from a tall man, probably in his early forties, with a patrician accent and immaculately styled long brown hair. He was wearing jeans and a plain white shirt. Samantha began to feel a bit less conspicuous about her choice of clothes. He smiled down at them. ‘Miles Vernon, Professor Miles Vernon. And you are?’ He held out his hand.
He was very good-looking and he knew it. Sam read the interest in his eyes, but she took a surreptitious step backwards, definitely not attracted to him and keen to avoid his getting the wrong idea. At the same time, she didn’t want to appear rude to a professor, even if his was a new name to her. But she needn’t have worried. Before she had time to extend her own hand, Becky had grasped his with both hands and was pumping it up and down. She beamed up at him. ‘Hello, Professor Vernon. I’m Becky and this is Samantha. We’re PhD students in the Archaeology department.’ She paused, then added for clarification, ‘At the university.’
Sam had a hard job restraining herself from giggling. Miles Vernon probably didn’t realise just how close he was to having his clothes ripped off him, Viking-style. You didn’t need a PhD to see the ‘target acquired’ look in Becky’s eyes. Sam waited until Becky had reluctantly released him and then shook hands with him in her turn. ‘Good evening. Is this your lovely house? Is this your party?’
He smiled at her, exposing a set of immaculate white teeth as he did so. ‘Good evening, Samantha.’ He pronounced it ‘Sementha’ and she repressed a shudder. ‘The answers are yes and yes. The house is indeed mine, and I thought I should do something for all my new friends at the university.’
BOOK EXCERPT #2:
Virginia successfully backed the car into the parking space at the third attempt and turned off the engine. Samantha, beside her, breathed out deeply. She was still alive. Slowly, she unclenched her fingers from the seatbelt. She had never been driven by Virginia before and if it never happened again, that would be too soon. The journey down the busy A38 trunk road had been a succession of near misses and near death experiences. Driving without due care and attention didn’t even begin to describe it. When they had crossed into Cornwall and embarked upon the ever narrower lanes, Sam had genuinely expected death to come at them around every corner. Throughout the whole trip Virginia had kept up a non-stop chatter about the prospect of exploring Rock Island. Understandably she was excited at the thought of going to the island, but it was to the exclusion of all else, road safety in particular.
They climbed out of the car, Sam managing to resist the temptation to throw herself to the ground and kiss the tarmac under her feet. Instead, she took a few deep breaths, dried her palms on her jeans, and looked around. One unexpected side effect of having the fear of death put in her was that she found that she was experiencing life with total clarity, and she looked around with interest. The car park was halfway down the hill leading into Tregossick and the view across the bay to the island was as clear as a bell after all the rain. Sam glanced at her watch and was pleased to see it was just before three o'clock as arranged.
From the moment they left the shelter of the car, they were assailed by the twin noises of seabirds wheeling overhead and the regular crump of waves against the beach. While Virginia went off to get the parking ticket, Sam had time to look around. The car park was almost full and most of the cars had roof racks for surf boards. A quick glance down to the beach showed that the waves had enticed quite a number of wetsuited figures into the water with their boards.
Firstly, my name isn't T A. It's Trevor. I write under the androgynous name T A Williams because 65% of books are read by women. In my first book, "Dirty Minds" one of the (female) characters suggests the imbalance is due to the fact that men spend too much time getting drunk and watching football. I couldn't possibly comment. Ask my wife...
I've written all sorts: thrillers, historical novels, short stories and now I'm enjoying myself hugely writing humour and romance. Romantic comedies are what we all need from time to time. Life isn’t always very fair. It isn’t always a lot of fun, but when it is, we need to embrace it. If my books can put a smile on your face and maybe give your heartstrings a tug, then I know I’ve done my job.
I‘ve lived all over Europe, but now I live in a little village in sleepy Devon, tucked away in southwest England. I love the place. That’s why you’ll find leafy lanes and thatched cottages in most of my books. Oh, yes, and a black Labrador.
I've been writing since I was 14 and that is half a century ago. However, underneath this bald, wrinkly exterior, there beats the heart of a youngster. My wife is convinced I will never grow up. I hope she's right.