Rosie’s Travelling Tea Shop: An absolutely perfect laugh out loud romantic comedy
A gorgeous new novel from bestseller Rebecca Raisin! Coming soon.Readers love Rebecca Raisin!‘Absolutely fantastic book, had me hooked from the first page.’‘I absolutely loved everything to do with this book’‘Rebecca Raisin has a way of writing that is so evocative, it brings each and every scene to life.’‘Romantic, emotional, hilarious in places but most of all beautiful.’‘Full of anticipation, a real page turner. Loved it!’‘A good holiday read’‘Be whisked away on a beautiful adventure and pick up a copy today!’
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REBECCA RAISIN is a true bibliophile. This love of books morphed into the desire to write them. Rebecca aims to write characters you can see yourself being friends with. People with big hearts who care about relationships, and most importantly, believe in true, once-in-a-lifetime love.
Readers love Rebecca Raisin
‘Absolutely fantastic book, had me hooked from the first page’
‘I absolutely loved everything to do with this book’
‘Rebecca Raisin has a way of writing that is so evocative, it brings each and every scene to life’
‘Romantic, emotional, hilarious in places but most of all beautiful’
‘Full of anticipation, a real page turner. Loved it!’
‘A good holiday read’
‘Be whisked away on a beautiful adventure and pick up a copy today!’
Christmas at the Gingerbread Café
Chocolate Dreams at the Gingerbread Café
The Bookshop on the Corner
Christmas Wedding at the Gingerbread Café
Secrets at Maple Syrup Farm
The Little Bookshop on the Seine
The Little Antique Shop Under the Eiffel Tower
The Little Perfume shop off the Champs-Élysées
Celebrations and Confetti at Cedarwood Lodge
Brides and Bouquets at Cedarwood Lodge
Midnight and Mistletoe at Cedarwood Lodge
Christmas at Cedarwood Lodge
Rosie’s Travelling Tea Shop
REBECCA RAISIN
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019
Copyright © Rebecca Raisin 2019
Rebecca Raisin 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.
Source ISBN: 9780008330842
E-book Edition © March 2019 ISBN: 9780008282165
Version: 2019-02-26
Table of Contents
For the hero in my very own love story.
This one is for you Ashley.
‘You’re just not spontaneous enough, Rosie …’
I’ve misheard, surely. Fatigue sends my brain to mush at the best of times but after twenty hours on my feet, words sound fuzzy, and I struggle to untangle what he’s getting at.
It’s just gone 2 a.m. on Saturday 2nd February and that means I’m officially 32 years old. By my schedule I should be in the land of nod, but I’d stayed late at work to spontaneously bake a salted caramel tart to share with Callum, hoping he’d actually remember my birthday this year.
He’s never been a details man – we’re opposites in that respect – so I try not to take it to heart, but part of me hopes this is all a prelude to a fabulous birthday surprise and not the brewing of a row.
‘Sorry, Callum, what did you say?’ I try to keep my voice light and swig a little too heartily on the cheap red wine I found in the back of the cupboard after Callum told me we needed to have a chat. Surreptitiously, I glance to the table beside me hoping to see a prettily wrapped box but find it bare, bar a stack of cookbooks. Really, I don’t need gifts, do I? Love can be shown in other ways, perhaps he’ll make me a delicious breakfast when we wake up …
My eyes slip closed. With midnight long gone, my feet ache, and I’m weary right down to my bones. Bed is calling to me in the most seductive way; come hither and sleep, Rosie, it says. Even the thought of a slice of luscious ooey-gooey birthday tart can’t keep me awake and compos mentis. But I know I must focus, he’s trying to tell me something …
‘Are you asleep?’ The whine in his voice startles me awake. ‘Rosie, please, don’t make this any harder than it has to be,’ he says, as if I’m being deliberately obtuse.
Make what harder – what have I missed? I shake my head, hoping the fog will clear. ‘How am I not spontaneous? What do you even mean by that?’ Perhaps he’s nervous because he’s about to brandish two airline tickets to the Bahamas. Happy Birthday, Rosie, time to pack your bags!
He lets out a long, weary sigh like I’m dense and it strikes me as strange that he’s speaking in riddles at this time of the morning when I have to be at the fishmonger in precisely five hours.
