Excerpt Tour: Meet Me at Beachcomber Bay by Jill Mansell
Title: Meet Me at Beachcomber Bay
Author: Jill Mansell
Pub Date: May 2, 2017
International bestseller Jill Mansell weaves a heartwarming tale of love, family and friendship in her latest novel
1. A brief encounter that could have become so much more…if only everything were different
2. Step-sisters, bitter rivals in every area except one—by unbreakable pact neither will ever steal a man from the other
3. A love triangle that starts out as a mess of secrets and mix-ups, and only gets worse from there
Friendship, family ties, crossed wires and self-discovery, second chances and first impressions
Welcome to Jill Mansell’s blustery seaside world. Once you step inside, you’ll never want to leave!
With over 10 million copies sold, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jill Mansell writes irresistible and funny, poignant and romantic tales for women in the tradition of Marian Keyes, Sophie Kinsella and Jojo Moyes. She lives with her partner and their children in Bristol, England.
Jill Mansell book bundle and a British summer tumbler
“Wild guess,” said Ronan. “That was Belle.”
“She’s coming down tomorrow. Flying down tomorrow,” Clemency amended, to let him know that they should both be suitably impressed. “With her fabulous new boyfriend. I expect she wants to make you jealous.”
When he’d first arrived in St. Carys, Belle had developed quite the crush on Ronan; she’d been very keen to get to know him better. Her interest in him might not have been returned, but it had certainly provided Clemency with endless hours of entertainment.
“Hmm. Well, if she’s got herself a boyfriend, I should be safe.” Ronan indicated the notes she’d scribbled on a paper napkin. “What’s he after?”
She told him, and between them, they began drawing up a list of potential properties that might fit the bill for Belle’s rich new boyfriend. Clemency ate her pavlova ice cream and, when it was all gone, dunked the pointy end of the waffle cone into her cappuccino, because she knew it drove Ronan mad when she did that.
He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re revolting.”
Clemency beamed as she bit the soggy end off the cone. “I know.”
The vacationing family of four left the café with their finished portrait, and Marina packed up her easel and art equipment for the day. She paused at Clemency and Ronan’s table and tut-tutted good-naturedly. “Are you two still working? Mind you don’t burn yourselves out.”
“Says the woman who never stops,” Clemency reminded her. “How many have you sold today?”
“Nine. It’s been good.” Marina shifted the large, unwieldy bag on her shoulder. “It doesn’t feel like work when you’re having fun, though, does it?”
Ronan indicated the family now heading away from them as they made their way along the beach. “They seemed really happy with their painting.”
“I know. It’s still a thrill.” Marina smiled at him. “They were lovely people too.”
“And what are you doing tonight?” asked Clemency. “Anything nice?”
“Oh, extremely nice. Poor Alf ’s still getting over his chest infection, so I’m going to be taking Boo out for a walk. And after that, I’m babysitting Ben and Amy.” Marina spread her hands. “So basically, couldn’t be better!”
“You’re like Superwoman,” said Ronan.
And Clemency smiled because it was true—she was. Alf was Marina’s eighty-six-year-old neighbor. Ben and Amy were the hyperactive three-year-old twins who lived with their exhausted parents across the road from Marina’s whitewashed cottage on Harris Street. Here at the café, whenever Paddy and Dee needed an extra pair of hands to help out, Marina was always the first to volunteer. Basically, if anyone was ever in need of a lift, a favor, or a bit of assistance with an overgrown garden, she was more than happy to oblige. In the five years since she’d moved to St. Carys, she’d forged a place for herself in the heart of the community, and her love for the little town and its inhabitants had been returned in full.
“Ah well, how else would I keep myself occupied?” Marina deftly retied the turquoise ribbon that held her auburn hennaed curls away from her face. “Sit and twiddle my thumbs? Anyway, I only do what I want to do. If someone needs a hand with something, it’s nice to be able to help out.”
“There’s such a thing as too nice, though.” Ronan shook his head at her. “Don’t go letting people take advantage.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not a complete pushover.” Her amber eyes sparkled. “I’m a better judge of character now than I used to be, thank God!”
She waved good-bye and left the café. Moments later, they watched as she greeted one of the local hoteliers before crouching down to ruffle the ears of his boisterous, waggy-tailed beagle.
“She’s probably offering to knit the dog a coat,” Ronan observed.
“Seriously, though, why do bad things happen to good people? Whatever happened to karma?”
“Maybe she’s not good. Maybe she’s actually a secret agent, a sinister assassin masquerading as a lovable artist.”
Clemency shook her head. “God, her husband must have been such a bastard to do what he did.”