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The Little Bookshop at Herring Cove
KELLIE HAILES
Readers love Kellie Hailes
‘The perfect antidote to a rainy day.’
‘Utterly divine!’
‘A delightful, warm, tender and fun contemporary novel.’
‘A heart-warming read.’
‘Thoroughly charming.’
‘I absolutely loved this book! A brilliant read!’
‘Beautifully written.’
‘I couldn’t put it down!’
‘Please tell me there will be more…’
‘Fabulous fun.’
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019
Copyright © Kellie Hailes 2019
Kellie Hailes asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © July 2019 ISBN: 9780008336134
Version: 2019-04-23
For my little fur face, Alfred. I miss you every day, but you live on in my heart… and now in the pages of this book.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Readers Love Kellie Hailes
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Dear Reader
Extract
HQ
About the Author
About the Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
She just had to survive for a few more months. Six months, to be exact. Then the Christmas rush would see enough money in her bookshop’s bank account to scrape through for another year. Maybe. Hopefully.
Sophie sucked in her lower lip as she tightened her grip on the hammer’s wooden handle, slowly practising lowering the head to the nail before raising it again.
She forced herself to put aside all mental images of the spreadsheet she’d been looking at earlier that morning. It told a terrible story. Of loss. Lacklustre book sales. And looming financial disaster. She could tell herself things would get better but the numbers didn’t lie. Sales were getting worse. Year on year, even during the festive season, she’d seen a fall in profit. People weren’t buying books the way they used to, at least they weren’t buying them from her little bookshop.
She held her breath as she raised the hammer a little before bringing it down on the display case she was trying to fix.
‘Ow!’
The pained word filled the room as she pressed her lips together, dropped the hammer onto the ground, doubled over, and gripped her thumb and forefinger, hoping the pressure on them would ease the throbbing that was building second by second.
‘Are you okay there? Should I call an ambulance? Perhaps a funeral parlour?’
Sophie forced her eyes open, ready to give the owner of the bemused voice the kind of glare that would make him think twice before being cheeky to a woman in distress.
Except no glare came forth.
And her racing heart, which had only just begun to slow down to a canter, picked up once more.
Cripes. The smart-arse was a babe. Dark brown hair, shorn short at the sides with a touch more length on top, made way for a face that no doubt spelled trouble. Green eyes, dancing with good humour, twinkled down at her. Lips that were all hard-edged on the outside and plump in the middle twitched to one side. Cheekbones, sharp enough a model would be envious, were raised high.
He was laughing? At her? Well, he could take his babealiciousness and bugger off.
Taking a step back, Sophie folded her arms over her chest, lifted her chin and adopted her most professional tone. ‘I’m fine, thank you. Just a little mishap between my finger and a hammer. Now, what can I do for you? Are you after a book?’
The smirk straightened out as his eyes ceased twinkling. ‘Actually, I’m looking for Sophie Jones. Is she about?’
Sophie Jones. Her name rolled off his tongue. Smooth, sweet. With a hint of seduction. And the way he was staring at her. Penetrating. Lingering. Like he could see past her red A-line knee-length skirt and simple white T-shirt all the way into her soul, where worry and loneliness huddled together as uncomfortable bedmates.
