The final book in my Redcakes Victorian Teashop romance series just came out this week! I’m running a blog tour with tons of excerpts, a new one at every stop! You can check my blog for more information. There is a gift card giveaway as part of the tour. Also, there is a chance to win a free copy going on at my Facebook page.
The sweetest treat is a kiss…
Greggory Redcake’s plate is full. Widowed young and left with two small children, the manager of the Kensington location of the illustrious tea shop is besieged on all sides between the bakery and family matters. If only his remarkably efficient shop assistant, Betsy Popham, could manage his home life, too! But Greggory can’t linger on thoughts of Betsy’s fetching smile when a dead body is discovered in the bakery…
Betsy has no time for romance, not even with the delectable Mr. Redcake, whose kisses are all too unforgettable. Haunted by a specter from her family’s past, Betsy is terrified that the man blackmailing her has turned to deadly violence. Yet the only way to save her position–and possibly her life–is to accept Greggory’s help as their delicious attraction sweetens into the tantalizing promise of true love…
Matilda knew Mr. Hales was the spider at the center of a web of information about Redcake’s.
The man himself had his back to her, one finger on a row of figures in an open ledger and the other on a typewriter key. She had no idea how to operate such a machine, but it did make reports easier to read, so she had insisted that her own secretary, her cousin Greggory Redcake, learn to operate one.
“Mr. Hales?” she inquired.
The finger went up in the air in a request for silence. Her eyebrows lifted. When had the man become so imperious? He probably thought she was a cakie, the Redcake’s name for waitresses. Still, she’d have expected him to be more charming. Her sister Alys said he was notorious for relationships among Redcake’s female employees, having worked his way through accounting, the Fancy, and the bakery staff.
His finger moved down the row of neatly printed numbers in the ledger. The keys clicked a few times. A pause. He turned a page in the ledger and repeated the sequence.
“Mr. Hales,” she tried again.
His fingers stopped moving, pinched around the page he was turning. His back stiffened as he slowly resumed his page turn. His other hand left the keys and he swiveled his chair around.
He remained cold. No little bow, no small obsequious smile, as she had seen from him in the past. His hair had been mussed, she now realized.
Didn’t he recognize her? “I’m Matilda Redcake.”
Her announcement brought no change in his demeanor. “I know who you are, Miss Redcake.”