Blog Tour: Guest Post Mulberry Lane Babies by Rosie Clarke

About the Book: 

1941, Mulberry Lane, London. War rages but new arrivals bring new hope. Perfect for fans of Katie Flynn and Cathy Sharp.
Life is hard for all on Mulberry Lane as the war rages into yet another year. Desperate times push people into dangerous situations.
Menacing shadows lurk on dark street corners, threatening the safety of those who are alone and vulnerable.
When Peggy’s twins are born early, Maureen and Nellie are there to lend a helping hand. The mothers of Mulberry Lane stick together despite the grim conditions of war-torn London and a shadowy fear that stalks their lives. Neighbours and friends look out for each other and new life brings hope and joy to the Lane.


About the Author:


Rosie is happily married and lives in a quiet village in East Anglia. Writing books is a passion for Rosie, she also likes to read, watch good films and enjoys holidays in the sunshine. She loves shoes and adores animals, especially squirrels and dogs.


Follow Rosie:  

Twitter: @AnneHerries



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Twitter: @aria_fiction

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I’m very pleased to be able to post a guest post with Rosie Clarke on my blog. 

Rosie loves and lives each book as she writes them and the stories evolve from very small ideas.
Once the character’s come to life the plot forms around them, following on from what they would do.  
My favourite cover of the Mulberry Lane series is The Girls of Mulberry Lane but Babies is a close second.
Peggy is the main character and it was her story that got everything rolling, but Maureen was the perfect foil so that they could play off each other.’

Mulberry Lane Babies is not a new title for me. CLICK HERE  to see my blog tour post!  

‘Good morning, Miss Riley.’ He greeted her with a smile of welcome. ‘It’s nice to see you back – are you here in London for good now?’

‘I’m not sure, Mr Hall,’ Anne flicked back her light brown hair as she replied. Her nose felt as if it might be red from the icy cold of the air outside. ‘We’re opening up some of the schools again – at least, we’ve opened a temporary school to accommodate the children who have returned to London. Some of them just couldn’t settle in the country and their mothers wanted them back now the bombing has calmed down a lot, but I intend to stay in teaching if I can.’

‘Well, I’m sure Mrs Ashley will be glad to have you back helping in the bar of the Pig & Whistle at night – and all your friends, too.’

‘Thank you.’ Anne smiled because Peggy Ashley was the landlady of the pub next door, and one of Anne’s best friends. She took her shoes from the wicker basket she carried and placed them on the counter: a pair of smart grey suede courts and a black patent pair of lace-ups that had seen better days. ‘I wondered if you could give me leather soles and heels?’

‘Well, I might manage leather for the suede courts,’ he said after looking at them. ‘But I think rubber would be better for the black shoes, Miss Riley. They need a good thick sole to pull them back into shape.’

‘I don’t like the rubber ones much; they’re so heavy,’ Anne confessed with a sigh, ‘but I suppose…’

‘I do have some thinner rubber…’ He was about to show her an example when the door to the back room opened and a man entered dressed in army trousers with braces over a string vest, his arms and shoulders bare.

‘Bob, are the boots ready…’ the words died on his lips and a faint flush spread up his neck. He was clean-shaven, good-looking, with high cheekbones, dark curly hair and blue eyes, with lashes so thick any girl would envy them, and Anne could smell the fresh clean scent of his soap. ‘I do beg your pardon, miss. I didn’t realise there was a lady here…’

‘You should think before you walk about like that, Kirk,’ Bob reproved. Older, with some grey at his temples, there was a noticeable resemblance between Bob and the younger man. ‘I’m so sorry, Miss Riley. Kirk is my sister’s boy and he’s staying with me for a couple of days.’

‘Kirk Ross,’ the soldier said and moved towards the counter, offering to shake hands. Anne noticed that his nails were broken but clean, his fingers long and shapely, but calloused as if his hands had seen hard work. ‘I’m sorry for embarrassing you, Miss Riley.’

‘That is perfectly all right,’ Anne replied, though her heart was pumping a little faster than normal, because he was rather a magnificent specimen. Obviously, he was fit and strong, with muscles any weightlifter would be proud of. ‘I’ve seen a man in a vest before, Mr Ross.’ She averted her eyes, deliberately looking at the shopkeeper. ‘Very well, leather on the grey and rubber on the black; they’re on their last legs and I should probably have bought new if I could find anything I liked.’