New Release, and a new Swallow’s Fall series from Jennie Jones
The House on Jindalee Lane
Read a few words from the author
Read an excerpt
The launch of the warm and witty new Daughters of Swallow’s Fall series, from the author of the internationally bestselling The House on Burra Burra Lane.
Actress Edie Granger is in a spot of trouble. When a big-time producer threatens to ruin her career—and possibly the rest of her life—she flees to her remote hometown in the Snowy Mountains and opens a little theatre to put on her comedy whodunnit Who Shot the Producer.
Childhood friend and ex-Commando Ryan Munroe has returned to Swallow’s Fall to see if there’s a future for him and Edie after their disastrous but unforgettable first and only kiss three years ago. She’s still dazzling, still in love with her career and still out of his reach. He’s about to give up when he learns that Edie might have trouble on her heels.
Struggling with her growing attraction to Ryan, and torn between her career and a rekindled love for her hometown, Edie focuses on generating her cast and crew from the 182 Swallow’s Fall residents, and producing her play. But when elements from the play start happening for real, the comedy turns dangerous.
Edie is suddenly centre stage in the biggest role of her life. Can she pull it off? And can Ryan ensure everyone survives to make it to the curtain call?
A few words from the author
The House on Jindalee Lane – is this book about me? In many ways, this book is about me. It’s not a snippet of my life, but it’s me in other ways. Edie is well-known theatre actor. I was a theatre actor (but definitely not well known!).
Jindalee is a book about a woman who is going through a period of unsureness; of not knowing where to turn or what to do next. She’s the woman who appears to have it all, but hasn’t, because life is unfulfilling on levels not yet understood. Edie knows what’s being offered in the professional world of her career, and it’s exciting—but does she want it? And her worst worry of all: if she doesn’t want it, what the hell will she do next? Even when something good is on Edie’s doorstep, she doesn’t see it, but she’s working through everything on her plate in the best way she can. And in the end? Well, I was just the writer, mirroring in some small ways parts of my own life, but Edie was the character who showed me that indecision and toing and froing can result in happiness and fulfillment. It’s just a case of going through the angst first… Devilishly hard to do though that is!
Excerpt from The House on Jindalee Lane by Jennie Jones
It was pretty lonely being this tough on yourself all the time, but Edie Granger had been resilient all her life—in front of a few and in front of hundreds—and wasn’t going to be intimidated by thirteen members of the Swallow’s Fall Community Spirit town committee.
Edie glanced at the woman who’d spoken with such outrage, then stood, knowing she appeared unruffled and at ease even though her heart beat like a tom-tom. Nevertheless, she was a professional and she was used to being a well-known theatre actor, even when off stage, like tonight—no matter how exhausting it was to keep up the charade. ‘It’s not as ridiculous as it sounds,’ she said. The only time she got to be herself was in the shower or when she was asleep. She would enjoy having these few weeks off from all the glamour. Not that there’d been a lot of that recently. Not since Marcus Buchanan spreading rumours about her. She’d already been knocked back on two main roles she’d thought were hers, and her agent was making noises about dropping her too. But she wasn’t going to mention Marcus to anybody.
‘A theatre?’ the woman in the purple knitted tassel hat said again. Her name was Ada Ormond, and she’d been called Mrs Ornery behind her back since her arrival fifteen years ago in the new housing estate twenty kilometres out of town.
Edie gave Mrs Ormond her full focus, placatory words on the tip of her tongue—then caught the eye of Ted Tillman sitting next to her, arms folded over his bullfrog chest, mouth closed. Unusual for Ted. He’d retired from the stock feeders he’d owned but not from the Swallow’s Fall town committee. He was still head bullfrog in that department.
His eyes bored into hers and the back of Edie’s neck heated up. He wanted to play the role of detective in the play she was producing for her about-to-be-established Little Theatre. She’d had to let him down kindly, but had offered him the part of the dead body in Act I. Not an inconsiderable part, since he’d have to remain still and silent for nearly twenty minutes. She hoped that wouldn’t be a problem for Ted.
‘Yes,’ she said, shuffling papers on the trestle table in front of her as the evening breeze blew in from the open doors. ‘A theatre.’ She shivered, unsure if it was due to the fingers of the spring wind—Ted didn’t put the heating on in the historic and renovated town hall unless it was for a paid event—or the still-tremulous beating of her heart. Her nerves had never been so stretched as they had been this last month.
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