Book Title: Of Dungarees, Wellies, and Wedding Dresses
Author: Alexa Milne
Publisher: Fictionwide
Cover Artist: Garrett Leigh
Release Date: 21st October
Tense/POV: first person/past tense/alternating POV
Genres: Contemporary FF Romance
Tropes: Break-up, new life, plus-size rep, working women, independent women
Themes: Bi-sexual awakening, strong women, family life
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 63 906 words/228 pages
It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. HEA
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Blurb
My name is Chrissy Wychling. I’m a divorced clothes designer and tailor in my mid-thirties. I’ve recently made a momentous decision and moved from Kent to the Yorkshire Dales to start a new business selling wedding dresses for larger brides. I didn’t come to this new place looking for love, or even a relationship, but then I met Beth, and a whole new world of possibilities beckoned.
My name is Beth Nethering. My family has farmed this land for hundreds of years. As a child, I dreamed of getting away, and I did. I went to university, found a great job, got married, and had a child. I had my life mapped out then, ten years ago, everything changed. I made some tough decisions. I moved back to the family farm with my daughter then I set about rescuing the place. Now, we milk sheep not cows, we have glamping pods for tourists, and I’ve just rented the barn to Chrissy who sells wedding dresses. Me, I’m more used to wearing dungarees and wellies. I’m surprised but strangely flattered when Chrissy flirts with me. It’s only a bit of fun, isn’t it?
Chrissy and I watched the wagon head off through the gate.
“Everything all right?” I asked.
“Yes. Ned’s been a great help, lifting and carrying, though he doesn’t say much. He did bring the most amazing scones and jam—all homemade.”
“His wife is a baking goddess.”
“Why don’t you come in. I could do with a drink. D’you fancy a mug of good Yorkshire tea?”
I rarely turned down tea even though I’d not long had my lunch. Inside, the place appeared much more together. All the boxes had been emptied and more places to sit had been set up.
I followed Chrissy into the small kitchen area.
“Watch the walls,” Chrissy said. “White is such a dull colour, but it’s what is expected.”
“Says the woman who sells wedding dresses.” Chrissy laughed. She had a nice laugh—the sort that could be infectious.
“I know, but there are other shades available, from black and red to ivory and blush pink. I’ve a delivery tomorrow, which reminds me, I might need a good dry-cleaning service, one which collects if possible. Do you know of anything?”
“I’ll ask Karen at the White Hart. She always knows someone who knows someone.”
“We occasionally rent out gowns, so I need to have them professionally cleaned. Not everyone can afford a dress, though I try to keep stock with reasonable prices.”
I sat next to the desk. “Getting married is an expensive business. I remember my wedding. My father insisted on paying for everything—said it was a father’s responsibility.” I’d adored my father and missed his wise advice. No one had been more surprised than me when he and my mum had bought a house in France to retire to, leaving the farm to my brother. We only found out later he’d been advised to slow down for health reasons—and his dicky ticker had taken him from us despite the move.
“What about you? How was your wedding?” I asked when Chrissy handed me a mug.
She looked wistful for a moment. “It was lovely. We got married at a hotel near the beach and had a barbecue afterwards. I wore a teal three-piece suit I made myself—I did tailoring as part of my degree. My partner, Molly wore the dress. It was a perfect day. But not everything perfect lasts.”
So she is gay. “No, sadly it doesn’t.” I wanted to ask what had happened but now wasn’t the time. “My husband and I were already drifting apart before I decided to return home. We both worked too hard. I had a nanny to take care of Amy, which I hated. We hardly saw each other, let alone had time for our daughter. Now she spends more time with both of us. Graham’s remarried and his new wife is expecting.”
“And you’ve never thought about getting married again. Jed seems like a nice bloke.” She grinned at me.
“I’ll have you know Jed is happily married to a Viking called Lars Petterson.”
“Aren’t they the people at the White Hart?”
“Lars is George’s younger brother. It’s a bloody small world around here.”
“Oh well. He is handsome though.”
So maybe not completely gay.
“Have you had any more interest?” I asked changing the subject.
Her face lit up. She had blue-grey eyes like the sea on a cloudy day, whereas mine were boring old brown.
“Yes, we’ve three booked in for Saturday. We’ll stick to bookings when we get established, but for now we need to be ready for walk-ins too. We’re coming up to wedding season, so hopefully, we’ll be busy. This place is make-or-break for me. My family think I’m mad coming all this way, but I needed to. I didn’t want there to be any chance of me bumping into my ex with her new girlfriend.”
Ah. “No, I get that.” I swallowed the last of the tea. “Um, I was thinking. I wondered if you fancied a trip to the pictures or something one night. I thought you might get bored on your own in the pod of an evening.”
“I can’t remember the last time I went out to see a film and didn’t stream it at home. Where would we have to go around here?”
“Richmond is our best bet. Maybe one-night next week. We could grab something to eat first if you want.”
Chrissy took the mugs and rinsed them under the hot tap.
“Sounds like fun. Can I let you know which day?”
“Sure. Of course. Whatever suits. Amy is fine by herself, and I can drive.”
“Wonderful. Then it’s a date.”
Which it wasn’t. Was it?
Originally from South Wales, Alexa has lived for over forty years in the North West of England. Now retired, after a long career in teaching, she devotes her time to her obsessions.
Alexa began writing when her favourite character was killed in her favourite show. After producing a lot of fanfiction she ventured into original writing.
She is currently owned by a mad cat and spends her time writing about the men in her head, watching her favourite television programmes and usually crying over her favourite football team.
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