Christmas Magic At The Writers' Retreat

Book summary

Louise, grieving her mother's loss and tending to her troubled family, yearns to become a children's author while grappling with a complicated love life. When she wins a writers' retreat stay at Mystic Springs hotel through a Christmas contest, her fortunes shift. However, eerie events and a charming writing mentor challenge her focus in this heartwarming Christmas romance with a touch of magic.

Excerpt from Christmas Magic At The Writers' Retreat

Once upon a time, in a far away land of soot and grime, lived a little girl named Louise Henry. 

Louise was a bit of a dreamer, some of her school friends even regarded her as odd. For she always had her nose in a book and when she wasn’t reading, Louise was conjuring up stories in her head. 

Louise didn’t mind that she had few friends, for she was blessed with a loving family.  A golden haired kind mother and a courageous strong father who bought her books and pens and encouraged her to celebrate being different.

Louise grew into a fine young lady, who was generous and full of spirit.  Like all good adventure stories, her life had ups and downs, there were good times and bad, happiness and pain, but Louise still held onto her dreams. 

This is a chapter of her life.  This is her fairytale…

Chapter One

“Tea’s done!”  I shout the words, hoping they will carry through the walls and into the living room where my dad and brother sit watching the evening news.  The heat from the oven fans my face as I open the door and pull the tray of pasties out.  They are golden brown, cooked to perfection and smell delicious.  I slide them onto four plates and then hurry back to the stove to take the chips out of the top oven and to stir the bubbling beans. 

“Grubs up!”  I yell again.  I hear the T.V being switched off and the creak of the kitchen door as it opens.  Dad ambles in, clad in his stripy pyjamas and scratching his head, he looks as if he’s ready for bed. 

“Where’s Robbie?”  My little brother, usually the first at the dining table is nowhere to be seen. 

“On his phone,” Dad hooks his thumb over his shoulder, “he’s had a new one.”

“Where on earth did he get the money for that?”  I ask, spooning the beans carefully next to the pasties.

“Probably best not to ask.”  Dad replies, scraping a chair out and plonking himself down. 

I blow a strand of hair out of my eyes as I rummage on the shelf for condiments.  “Help yourself to chips Dad.” 

“I don’t much like these supermarket brand ones,” he grumbles, smearing them with ketchup. 

“Well there isn’t much grocery money left …”  I trail off, smiling as he shovels a forkful into his mouth. 

Robbie skulks into the kitchen, running a hand through his dark tousled hair.  “Pasties again?”

“Oh will you two stop complaining,” I sit down, smiling brightly, “this is good wholesome food and I’ve bought us a cake from the bakery for pudding.”

Robbie’s eyes light up at the mention of sugary food, “chocolate cake?”

“Yep,” I confirm, “with fresh cream.”

“Where’s your Aunt Josie?”  Dad asks. 

“She’ll be here,” I reply, gazing at the clock.  Two minutes to six, there is a knock on the door and Bertie our Golden Retriever shoots off his bed and skids down the hallway. 

“Why does she have to come for tea every evening?”  Robbie pulls a face and prods at his beans, “do I have to eat these?”

“Yes you do,” I say, swallowing a piece of steak bake, “it’s one of your five-a-day and you know Aunt Josie’s on her own.”  I ruffle his hair as I walk towards the front door and hear him tut at my burst of sisterly affection.  Bertie’s shackles are up and he is growling at the glass partition. 

“Hello Lou,” Aunt Josie bustles in, shaking drops of rain from her freshly styled hair.  “It’s raining cats and dogs out there.  Winter’s on its way.”

“It’s only November, in theory still autumn” I reply, taking her coat and scarf, “have you been to the hairdressers?”

Josie pats her lilac curls, “do you like it?  The trainee hairdresser talked me into having a change from my usual blue.”    

“It looks very nice, go on in now, tea is on the table.”  I follow her down the hallway and back into the kitchen.  Robbie has his feet up on the spare chair, I knock them off, irritated by his lack of manners and tell Aunt Josie to sit down. 

“How was school?”  I ask my fifteen year old brother. 

Robbie chews his food slowly, considering for a moment another day at Hayes Academy. 

“Alright,” he ducks his head, avoiding my gaze. 

“Did you make the rock cakes?”  I had spent yesterday scouring the shelves of the supermarket for the required ingredients for his home economics class.  They had been out of flour and currants, which resulted in a mad dash across the city to another supermarket, during my lunch break. 

“Er… urm… no.”

“Oh.”  I place my fork down and am just about to grill him when the phone rings. 

“If that’s the Indian call centre again, tell them I’ve moved to North Korea.”  Dad smirks as I dive on the phone. 

A posh sounding lady says hello and introduces herself as Mrs Frostrich. 

“The headteacher?”  I ask, swallowing a lump of fear and darting a glance at Robbie who has turned pale.

“Is that Mrs Henry?”

“It’s Miss,” I reply, “Louise Henry, how can I help you?”

“Ah sorry Miss Henry, I wonder if I could have a word about Robbie.”

I stalk out of the kitchen and into the lounge, fumbling for the remote to mute the T.V. 

“Yes of course, is everything okay?”

The headteacher sucks in a breath, “Robbie’s been missing classes Miss Henry.”

Oh no, not again!  I sink down onto the sofa. 

“So far this week he hasn’t been to English, French or home economics.  Is there any reason for his absence?”

The words fly out of my mouth before I have chance to think, “he has had a cough… and a bad stomach.”  I flush, embarrassed by my lies. 

The headteacher sniffs, “the school policy requires a phone call explaining any illness Miss Henry, on the first day and also any other subsequent days thereafter.”

“I am very sorry,” I grip the phone, “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I hope so,” Mrs Frostrich says curtly, “otherwise we will have to involve the attendance officer, which would mean a series of home visits.”

“Okay,” my head begins to throb.

“Miss Henry…” the headteacher’s tone softens slightly, “is everything okay at home?”

“Yes!”  I jump off the sofa, “everything’s fine.  It’s just a misunderstanding.  Robbie will be in tomorrow as normal.” 

“Very well.  Good evening then.” Buzz the line is dead.    

            “What did she want?”  Asks Dad, as I plonk myself back at the table. 

I glare at my younger brother who is busy slicing a piece of the cake.  “HE, has been up to his old tricks again.” 

Dad chuckles, “what’s he done now?”

“It isn’t funny,” I blow out an exasperated sigh, “why have you been skipping classes Robbie?”  I look at my brother who regards me with wide innocent eyes. 

“Dunno,” he licks cream off his middle finger and heaves his shoulders in an insouciant shrug.

“That’s not a good enough reason,” I shriek, angered by his flippant attitude.  “Your education is important Robbie.  It’s your GCSE year.  How will you get into college without any qualifications?”

Dad puffs out his chest, “listen to your sister love.”

“So what is making a bunch of stupid rock cakes going to teach me?”

“Er… well, it’s part of the curriculum Robbie,” my anger dissipates as I glance at his downcast face.  “Do you want to be working in a baker’s shop for the rest of your life like me?”

“I want to play in a band,” he scuffs his trainers on the linoleum floor. 

“Yes.”  I shake his clenched fist, “but you still need to get your qualifications.  Especially English, maths and science.”

Aunt Josie shakes vinegar from a soggy chip and says sagely, “I never passed one qualification.  The school of hard knocks taught me all I need to know.”

I slide an annoyed glance at my aunt.  “What about university?”  I gabble, “you could study music and… drama.”

“Too much debt,” Robbie snorts, “Ade’s brother just finished his degree and he’s working in McDonalds.”  Ade is Robbie’s best friend, a lanky buck teethed youth who lives five doors away.  I put my face in my hands, arguing with Robbie is pointless, he has an answer for everything.  Maybe I should lay the facts out plain and clear and hopefully it will quash this rebellious streak that seems to be growing in him again.