It’s a pleasure today to be joining the blog tour for Edna and Genevieve Escape From Curmudgeon Avenue by Samantha Henthorn, independently published on 7th February, available for kindle and in paperback: my thanks to Anne Cater of Random Things Tours for the invitation and support. And it’s one of those times when I wished I didn’t have quite so many books waiting – this comedy romance really rather appealed to me…
When Genevieve Dubois returned to Curmudgeon Avenue, this opened up the opportunity for Edna to realise her long held dream of escaping to France. But as Edna embraces all things European, Genevieve appears to shy away from her French roots.
Meanwhile, we return to Curmudgeon Avenue for the third time, the wind had blown in the truth about the tall, handsome stranger and although Harold and Edith had been relieved to discover that he is neither an elephant detective, nor a fraud investigator, Toonan had been a little disappointed that he was not interested in her either. Matteo Dubois was looking for his mother, Genevieve Dubois, and although he did not find her on Curmudgeon Avenue, you have probably guessed that he is about to cause a disturbance- FINALLY! There is hope that the set of nincompoops that live here currently will move out, and leave me in peace!
Edna had already escaped with Genevieve to France, which was a real shame for us because Edna was one of the less annoying ones. This delightful comedy romance is the third book in the Curmudgeon Avenue series, and will make you smile.
Intrigued? Let’s take a look at an extract…
The sun shone through the dirty curtains of the holiday gite that Edna and Genevieve had landed in the previous evening. Particles of dust danced through the air – today even dirt was romantic. To Edna Payne, the return of an ex had never been as good as this, never been as heart-thumpingly rewarding as Genevieve appearing underneath the window in Curmudgeon Avenue and by her side once again. Genevieve was already up and about of course; Edna could smell the black coffee wafting up the wooden staircase. It would be coffee and croissants this morning, and every morning from now on. No more burnt toast, no more disagreeable nephew, no more stupid sister, and absolutely no chance of bumping into that imbecile Harold! Edna had escaped; Edna and Genevieve had escaped! And Edna was not the only one who could not believe her luck.
‘Bonjour!’ Genevieve sang at the bedroom door frame. She had already been out to the boulangerie- French people buy bread twice a day, everyone knows that.
‘What time is it?’ Edna ran her dry tongue across her teeth.
‘Oh, it is just before noon, you must have needed your sleep after our long, loong journey’ Genevieve elongated.
‘Oh, I’m still tired, come back to bed, Genevieve’ Edna patted the bed beside her; dust billowed up into the room like a smokescreen. ‘Oh’ Coughed Edna, dampening the mood ‘Why couldn’t we have stayed in that hotel a bit longer?’
‘Non!’ Genevieve tutted ‘This was not a l’hotel it was a stop gap, a tourist convenience, you said you wanted us to live in France, this is France, my love, bread twice a day and life in a gite,’ Genevieve knelt on the eiderdown and stole a corner of Edna’s baked item in a cheeky fashion. Edna’s face contorted into a picture of culpability; had she really wanted this? ‘Well, at least the weather is nice, no need for an umbrella here’ said Edna as she opened the window, living the French life is starting to suit her after all. ‘What are we going to do today?’ Edna started fussing about with her suitcase. Which turtle-neck jumper was she going to wear today?
‘Do?’ Asked Genevieve.
‘Yes, what are we going to do?’
‘Nothing! That’s the beauty of it, it is nearly noon, almost time for my afternoon nap, everything is shut in the early afternoon’
‘Everything?’ Said Edna.
‘But there isn’t anything, never mind everything around here’ exasperated Edna.
The two women made their way into the garden claiming a rusty garden lounger each, with continued rationales and benefits of doing nothing, including Genevieve’s wisdom that as long as there was bread twice a day, plus cheese and wine on offer locally, they would want for nothing more. Edna drifted back off to sleep, it was reading that caused it. As she lay there, the French sun caressed her eyelids, and she dreamt of painting impressions of her life; or how it was about to be, in France. Her colour palette was narrow as she illustrated peasant’s food in her sleep, but the brushstrokes were wide and adventurous as the apples in her dreams morphed into other kinds of foods, grapes, bananas, blueberries, strawberries, all kinds of fruit. Roast lamb, cured ham, battered spam. Chips, chops and onion gravy, fish supper, takeaway Indian, stone-baked pizza. Even Bury Black Puddings made an appearance, their round, black shapes darkening Edna’s dream. Tea, cups of tea! Hot chocolate swirling around a big cup in clouds of darkness and lemonade bursting its bubbles on her face. What’s this?! Edna got up with a start. ‘It’s raining! It’s raining, Genevieve! Get up!’ Edna shook Madame Dubois awake.
‘Sacrebleu!’ Genevieve grabbed her fancy throw and bundled herself and Edna inside the gite.
Wishing you every success with this one, Samantha!
About the author
Samantha Henthorn was born in 1970-something in Bury, England. She has had short stories and poetry published in magazines. Her books include the Curmudgeon Avenue series (The Terraced House Diaries and The Harold and Edith adventures), 1962, Quirky Tales to Make Your Day and Piccalilly. She has two cats, one dog, one gorgeous grown up daughter and one husband. When not reading or writing, she is listening to heavy metal, and would be thrilled to bits if someone read her books.