First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Childrenâs Books 2015
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Text copyright © 2015 by The Inkhouse
Cover illustration © Laura Ellen Anderson
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
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Source ISBN: 9780007451784
Ebook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780007451791
Version: 2015-05-06
ROSEMARY BLISSâS DREAMS had come true.
She was the most famous baker in all the world. She was the youngest chef ever to have won Franceâs famed Gala des Gâteaux Grands. She was the twelve-year-old girl whoâd out-baked celebrity TV chef Lily Le Fay and stopped her auntâs nefarious schemes. She was the local kid whoâd saved her hometown and rescued the Bliss familyâs magical Cookery Booke.
So why wasnât she happy?
On the thirteenth morning after returning from Paris, she got up and pulled open the curtains of her bedroom.
Snap. Flash. Click. Click.
That was why.
âLook, up there, itâs Rose!â Click. Flash. Snap. âRose, how do you feel about your victory?â Click. Flash. Flash. Snap. âRose! How does it feel to be the best baker in the world?â Snap. Flash. Click. âAnd at only twelve years old?â Click. Flash. Snap.
Ugh, Rose thought. Theyâre still here. Gone were the soothing sounds of morning, the wind chimes, the rope of the tire swing creaking against the branch of the old oak outside her window. Instead, the new sounds came courtesy of the group of paparazzi that had taken up permanent residence outside the Follow Your Bliss Bakery. Each morning they waited for Rose to open her curtains and then snapped hundreds of pictures, while calling out for a quote about her prodigious victory.
Rose had always harboured a secret curiosity about what fame would feel like, and now she knew. It felt like being a goldfish: hundreds of big googly eyes staring in at you, leaving you nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, except maybe a little plastic castle.
Rose snapped the curtains shut, and wondered if sheâd had enough of baking. It wasnât worth it, not if it meant this.
âI wish I never had to bake again,â Rose said to no one in particular.
A furry grey head, its ears flattened, appeared from a mound of dirty clothes at the foot of her bed. âBe careful what you wish for,â Gus said. âWishes before birthdays have a strange way of coming true.â The Scottish Fold cat raised a paw and began licking carefully between each sheathed claw.
âThatâs just silly,â Rose said. âMy birthday isnât until the end of summer. Anyway, I didnât really mean it.â She scratched his head and he purred. âIâd just like to not have to bake for a little bit, you know?â Sheâd become a baker because she loved her family and her town, and baking was in her blood â but thanks to her victory at the Gala des Gâteaux Grands, everything had been turned upside down.
She knew it had only been a measly two weeks, but the past fourteen days had been the longest of her life. No peace and quiet. No time to enjoy the summer. Baking wasnât fun anymore; it was something she was expected to do â like homework.
And that was no fun at all. As far as Rose was concerned, unless something changed this summer, she was done with baking for good.
Downstairs, inside the kitchen of the Bliss Family Bakery, the situation was no better. Camera flashes burst through the drawn curtains like stuttering flickers of lightning, and the barking of reporters outside the door made it sound like there were a thousand people outside instead of just a few hundred. Why wouldnât they leave her alone?