The Land Girl on Lily Road by Jillianne Hamilton is out now! Check out the tour and be sure to grab your copy of the historical romance today!
Title: The Land Girl on Lily Road
Author: Jillianne Hamilton
Genre: Historical Romance
About The Land Girl on Lily Road:
Bravery and fortitude on the English homefront endure in this lighthearted, enemies-to-lovers WWII romance, perfect for fans of The Wartime Matchmakers and Dear Mrs. Bird. Expecting a relaxing getaway at her family’s summer estate, pampered socialite Elsie Foster-Quinn signs up for the Women’s Land Army. When she ends up at a Somerset dairy farm instead, Elsie immediately butts heads with the grumpy farmer she now works for. Being a land girl in a small town is far more than the city girl bargained for. Ben Grainger hates asking for help. When two land girls unexpectedly arrive on his farm, he quickly learns he can’t simply make them go away. He finds amusement in tormenting Elsie whose privileged life certainly didn’t prepare her for farm life. However, nothing could have prepared Ben for the feelings that suddenly emerge whenever the haughty little princess is near. Why can’t he keep his eyes off her? And why can’t she stop thinking about him? Opposites attract—but is it true love? Between the Germans bombing nearby Bath and a deadly disease rampaging through local farms, Ben and Elsie’s trust in each other is put to the ultimate test.Excerpt:
That night I got home late after a few drinks and a game of
darts with Amos at the pub. The cottage was dark and quiet. I slipped my shoes
off by the door in the kitchen and gave Sam a quick pat as his tail thumped
against the floor.
As I passed through the living room, I heard something that
made me stop—quiet inhales and exhales coming from the armchair. I silently
turned on the tabletop lamp at the end of the couch and smiled at the sight of
Elsie sleeping in the chair in her dressing gown, a blanket wrapped around her,
and my well-worn copy of Death on the
Nile by Agatha Christie in her lap. She was a few chapters into it already.
“Elsie,” I murmured. “Elsie?”
Her eyes opened faintly before falling shut again.
Sighing, I relocated the book to the table and switched the
light back off. Made bolder by beer, I carefully slid my arms beneath her small
frame and peered down at her peaceful, slumbering face as her head fell limply
against my shoulder. Avoiding the creaky spot on the bottom stair, I carried
her upstairs, making sure to not bump her head as I maneuvered her down the
hall and into her room. I thought she might be able to feel the frantic
pounding of my heart but she didn’t stir.
As I slowly lowered her down onto her bed and pulled my arms
from under her, she opened her eyes again and gazed up at me from beneath heavy
lids.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi. Go back to sleep.”
Soon her eyes were closed again and her shallow sleepy
breaths returned to their previous rhythm. Cautiously closing her door as I
left, I went next door to my own bedroom. I sat on the edge of my bed and
stared at the wall, a fervent realization shaking me of all the warmth and
comfort of exhaustion and alcohol: if I didn’t soon tell Elsie how I felt, I
would go mad.
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