Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Un-Deniable by Lisa Worrall, Exclusive Excerpt

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I'm very excited to host Lisa Worrall's new release, Un-Deniable (Left At The Crossroads, #3). Today's stop we have an exclusive excerpt. Whoot! Don't forget to drop down and enter the rafflecopter giveaway!

Un-Deniable jpg
Title: Un-Deniable

Series: Left At The Crossroads #3

Author: Lisa Worrall

Cover Artist: Meredith Russell

Length: 45,000 words

Release Date: June 29, 2015

Blurb: Little Mowbury is a sleepy English village deep in the Cotswolds. The kind of village where you’re only a local if your lineage can be traced back to the dinosaurs. Where you can find everything in the single village shop from morning newspapers to dry-cleaning, and getting your shoes mended. And, of course, where everybody knows everybody else’s business. It’s easy to find… you can’t miss it… just ask anyone and they’ll tell you… “It’s left at the crossroads.”

Oliver Bradford has had enough of the hustle and bustle of the A&E department in a big city hospital. Not to mention the tension caused by the break-up of his three year relationship with one of the hospital’s top surgeons. When his sister urges him to apply for the position of GP in the quiet village of Little Mowbury, he wonders if this might be just the fresh start he needs. Unfortunately, hitting the post-mistresses’ dog with his car isn’t the best introduction to his patients.

A solitary soul, Deano Wells grew up in Little Mowbury and has been having lunch at the Thatcher’s Arms on a Thursday for the last thirty-five years. First with his father, who brought him to the pub at the tender age of ten after a hard morning in the fields, and then by himself after his father passed on. He runs the farm with a practised hand and minds his business mostly, but that doesn’t stop Oliver from being drawn to the big, quiet man and he knows the feeling is mutual, so why does Deano keep pushing him away?


Oliver took a deep breath and lifted the heavy brass knocker. The opportunity to drop it, however, was taken from him as the door was suddenly opened and the knocker yanked from his hand.


His breath whistled out of him as he was pulled into a bone-crushing hug by a tiny woman sporting a lavender rinse and a flowery apron. She released him long enough to drag him over the threshold and into the house. The woman was not as frail as she looked. Nor was the yell she gave the soft and quiet one you would have expected.

“Malcolm! Oliver’s here!” As she headed down the narrow hallway she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Shut the door would you, dear? Malcolm’s in the garden tying up some beans, come on through.”

Oliver did as he was bid, then followed her down the hall into a small square kitchen and out the back door into a beautiful garden that seemed to go on forever. He paused as he stepped onto the patio, letting the breathtaking view wash over him. On the paved patio area to the right of where he stood was a table surrounded by six chairs. Edged by brightly coloured flowers, three steps led down onto the path that wove its way through the lawn, which was dotted with apple and cherry trees. Beyond that was what looked like a vegetable patch, where a tall, rangy-looking older gentleman tied broad beans to a bamboo stick with green string. Oliver recognised him immediately from their Skype conversations.

“Oliver!” Malcolm Winslow lifted a hand and beckoned to him.

“Go on, dear, he doesn’t bite, needs new dentures. I’ll put the kettle on.” She gave him an encouraging smile then disappeared back into the kitchen.

Oliver put his briefcase under the table so it was out of the way, then hurried down the steps and across the garden to the current GP. He smiled when he reached him and held out his hand.

“Malcolm, it’s good to finally meet you in the flesh.”

“And you, my boy, and you.” Malcolm ignored Oliver’s hand and hugged him hard, slapping him on the back before he let him go. “We don’t go much for handshakes round here. Just be careful of the WI, their hands tend to wander.” He slung an arm around Oliver’s shoulder and urged him back towards the patio. “I see you’ve met Violet. She’s been on tenterhooks all day. I was beginning to think you’d arranged a secret rendezvous or something. She never gets that excited when I come home.”

“Be quiet, you silly old fool,” Violet said, putting a tray with a teapot and three cups and saucers on the glass topped table. Oliver smiled as she shot Malcolm a look that took the sting out of the comment. Malcolm grinned at her and eased himself into one of the chairs, indicating to Oliver to do the same. “How do you take your tea, Oliver?”

“White, one sugar, please,” Oliver replied as he settled comfortably in his seat. The late afternoon sun was high in the sky and its rays beat down on them. He sighed softly. He could get used to this.

“Any news on Hugo?” Violet asked as she set his cup in front of him.

Oliver blinked, lost for words. How did she know?

“The smoke signals went up as soon as you rolled into the village,” Malcolm said dryly. “Gossip flies around this place quicker than a bee on a 747. Not one of Little Mowbury’s better traits. But one you’ll have to get used to I’m afraid. The old biddies aren’t happy unless they’re buzzing about something.”

“Pfft, your curtains twitch as much as anyone else’s,” Violet admonished and turned her attention back to a dumbstruck Oliver. “So, any news?”

“Not yet,” Oliver said, curling his fingers around his cup. “Deano took him to someone called Maguire, who I presume is a vet. Jason at the pub said he’d let me know how Hugo was once they knew anything.”

“Deano’s a good boy,” Violet said with an encouraging pat on Oliver’s forearm. “He’ll sort it out.”

“My wife has a soft spot for Deano Wells,” Malcolm said, dropping Oliver a wink. “That’s why I’m retiring, so I can keep an eye on her. It’s the curse of being married to a great beauty, Oliver. I have to make sure she doesn’t have her head turned by young bucks like you. Keeps me on my toes.”

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I live in Southend-on-Sea, a small seaside town just outside London on the South East coast of Essex, England that boasts the longest pier in the world; where I am ordered around by two precocious children and a dog who thinks she's the boss of me. I've been writing seriously for three years now and love giving voice to the characters warring to be heard in my head, and am currently petitioning for more hours in the day, because I never seem to have enough of them.


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