Spotlight & Giveaway: The Magical Tea Shop by Aimee O’Brian

Today, HJ is pleased to share with you Aimee O’Brian’s new release: The Magical Tea Shop

In the small town of Hazard, finding your soulmate might require magical intervention.

Ivy Wayland has a bet with her sister, who says you can’t have it all—success in business or love, but not both. Since opening her tea shop, Ivy knows where her priorities should be, but she has her heart set on her landlord. All her life, she’s heard the family lore about how their antique cookie press infuses homemade cookies with so much love that the recipient will fall head over heels for the giver. Ivy decides to take the chance.

Jaxon Langford is ready to move on. The only thing stopping him from selling up is concern about how some of his small business owners would fare with a greedier landlord. When one of his enthusiastic tenants brings him a tin of delicious-looking cookies, he’s charmed. He takes the cookies to his baseball team’s practice, only to watch them be devoured without getting so much as a bite.

Suddenly, Ivy has her pick of the town’s eligible bachelors—except Jaxon. How can she prove her sister wrong and win Jaxon’s heart?

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from The Magical Tea Shop 

Chapter One
Not everything starts out magical…

Ivette Wayland caught her breath. With the sun shining down on him, Jaxon Langford always caught her just a little unawares. He only lived upstairs, but every morning she found herself anticipating his first appearance of the day. She gazed through the plate glass window of her cozy tea shop as his little black Scottie dog scampered to keep up with his long strides. Jaxon halted just outside her door.

Would he enter?

She ached to run her fingers through that molasses-brown hair, still damp from the shower and sparkling like sugared ginger crinkles. It was ridiculous how much she yearned to touch him. He was her landlord, for goodness’ sake. Ivy reined in her longing. Jaxon paused on the sidewalk and quickly stepped over to hold open the door for the tiny, elderly Hazel Bestwick, president of the Hazard Historical Society.

Please come inside, Jaxon.

A couple of young boys on their way to school, backpacks swinging, asked him a question. Jaxon leaned down to answer. He fist-bumped the taller of the two boys and grinned. Jaxon’s smile shot straight to her core. As if sensing her watching, he glanced at the window, trying to see through sunlight bouncing off glass, his eyes the color of a well-steeped Irish breakfast tea.

She let out a little sigh. What she wouldn’t give to have him for…

“Focus,” said a voice behind her.

Ivy jumped and blinked twice to bring herself back to reality. “You have customers. Remember your goals.”

Her older sister’s constant criticism put her on the defensive. Ivy swung abruptly to face her, causing her high blonde ponytail to smack her own cheek. She shoved it back. “Business is steady.”

“My business is steady.” Holly drew herself up straighter in her pink bakery smock smoothing a hand over her flawless updo before sweeping an arm out to draw Ivy’s attention to the nearly empty tearoom. “Your business is slow. And he…” She flapped her hand toward the window “…is a distraction to success. You can’t have it all. I keep telling you.”

Ivy sucked in a breath and bit her tongue. She gazed out over her cute little tea shop with its small round tables covered in emerald-green tablecloths and ivory lace, topped with glass to protect the fabric from spills. Chairs with curved metal backs and comfy vinyl seats, reminiscent of a 1950s ice cream parlor, were mixed in with dark, bentwood chairs that might grace any Irish pub. Ruffled lace curtains framed her large window with its stunning view of the town square. Honestly, she couldn’t hope for a better location. Her little Welcome/Shut sign in Old English script added that homey, yet elegant, note.

Of course, Hollister’s Bakery, her sister’s business adjacent to hers with its sleek modern design, had a steady stream of customers, while the Ivy Way Tea Shop did not. She could swear Holly popped over several times a day through their shared kitchen just to gloat. Holly’s success versus her own less-than-success resulted in their ongoing argument.

Was it possible to have a love life while building a successful business?

Even though Ivy currently had neither, she believed that yes, it was possible to have it all. Holly maintained that it was not. Choices must be made. Priorities must be set.

Ivy turned toward her sister, losing sight of her delectable landlord as he strode down the street toward his own corner office. “All being a successful businessperson in a long-term relationship…” Ivy trailed off. She couldn’t share her complete thought, leading to my own personal happily ever after. Holly would scoff. “Yes, of course it’s possible, lots of people do it.”

Holly rolled her eyes, and in one quick motion raised a hand to smooth her tightly coiled bun again. “Pu-lease. In this town? Who?”

Ivy opened her mouth to shoot back an answer, and faltered. Hazard did rather live up to its name in the romance department. Still. “Our parents.”

“Who no longer live here.”

“Well, what about Garrett and Priscilla?” It irked Ivy to name her high school nemesis, but Priscilla did seem to have had success in the romance department.

“Committed? They should both be committed the way they bicker. I would hardly call them happy, what with all her scheming.”

“Okay.” There must be happy, successful couples, but Ivy’s mind was coming up blank. All she could think of were local relationships that had ended in divorce or tragedy. “Well, if it’s what I want.”

Holly pursed her lips, tilted her head, and shrugged. “Sure. Okay.”

Ivy narrowed her eyes. Her sister never just agreed with her.

Holly continued, “You just can’t have it all at the same time. Once you’ve achieved a suitable level of success, then pursue a relationship. If you want to build your business, little sis, put more effort into marketing instead of mooning over Jaxon Langford every time he walks by.”

It was true that he did walk by a lot, since Langford Architectural Enterprise was just three doors down. She often saw him passing her shop window when he was going to meet clients. Plus, he walked that jaunty little dog twice a day.

“It’s not like he’s over his wife.” Holly’s words were like a drenching dash of icy, cold water.

“She’s been gone three years,” Ivy muttered. Three years I’ve been waiting for him to see me as more than a tenant. Three freaking…

“Success takes work.”

Ivy let out a huff. Like she didn’t know that. Still, Hollister’s Bakery was busier than the Ivy Way Tea Shop by far, and Holly worked constantly. Her sister actually adhered to a ten-year plan. Amazing, really. Ivy preferred living in the moment, making the most out of each and every day. “Let’s make a bet.” The words fell from Ivy’s mouth before she could reconsider.

“You’ll lose.”

“Not this time.”

Holly smirked. “You always lose.”

“So what are you worried about?”

“Hmm, I’ll bite.” Holly took a bite of a scone sample from the glass counter. “What do I win when you lose? And how do we know when you’ve lost?” She waved the remaining bit of scone in the air.

Ivy pursed her lips. “By the end of the month, I’ll increase my business 30% and be in a committed relationship.”

“And this is why you lose.” Holly laughed and popped the last bit of scone in her mouth.

“It could happen.”

Holly rolled her eyes. “In twenty-eight days? Your timeline’s too short, with too many indeterminate variables that’ll burn you.”

Ivy resisted the urge to stomp her foot, or better yet, stomp on Holly’s foot like Holly stomped on all her dreams. “Tell you what, if you win, I’ll clean and close up your shop for a month and if I win, you’ll clean and close up mine.”

It wasn’t fair, of course. Holly’s bakery mess was much worse than Ivy’s tea shop mess, but it didn’t matter because this time Ivy would win. She glanced at the heirloom cookie press hanging from its emerald-green ribbon in a place of honor on her wall.

What if it wasn’t just a myth?

What if the stories were true?

What if fate was just waiting on her to take the chance?

It might even be fun. Ivy loved fun.

With a nod, Ivy breezed past her sister to where Hazel Bestwick was seated with the other three members of the Hazard Historical Society, Ivy’s favorite customers. If anyone would choose to be in her corner, it would be that crew, four pillars of the community who believed all things possible, and one of whom was her great-aunt Lydia. Like Ivy, the outwardly austere Lydia loved fun.

Ivy arrived at the table in time to hear Hazel’s snarky view on their latest hire. “She’s the unfortunate embodiment of her name. Would lightning strike her if she smiled? Who wants a tour with a downer docent?” Hazel’s eyes glinted, daring her cronies to contradict.

“Lots of people,” said Marjorie Hopewell, whose positive outlook and bright copper curls, courtesy of Cece’s Salon for the last twenty years, kept the historical society on track. “Malory Stone’s tours are informative, her delivery concise, and they are exactly one-hour long. I joined a tour of Oleander House just last week, and she did a marvelous job. Honestly, she could do a marvelous job for you, too, Hazel, if you’d just write down your script. Then you wouldn’t have to give all those tours of your Gilded Age Mansion all by yourself.”

Hazel harrumphed and fluffed her white, lavender-tinted hair. “I like giving tours of Sundial Sands. I’m not ready to retire.” She peered through her spectacles at Ivy, her expression begging for a change of topic.

Ivy graciously handed out her list of specials. “We have fresh-baked chocolate chip scones today”—she smiled at Seymour Throckmorton who gave a nod, causing his shock of white hair to rise and fall with the motion—“along with cinnamon rolls from next door and my very own ginger molasses crinkles.” Ivy closed her eyes for a moment as an image of Jaxon flashed through her mind.

“Ooh, I love those,” said Hazel. “Do you have a new tea blend for us to try? The last one, well.” They all exchanged a pained glance.

Ivy winced. Tea blends were an art she had yet to master. “I do. This one is a mint Darjeeling blend with a touch of rooibos. My Darling Mint To Be.”

They exchanged another glance. Marjorie’s bright smile faltered a bit. “You might want to work on the name.”

“Just bring some of everything,” said Hazel, eyes bright in anticipation at an imminent selection of treats. “And I’m certain you’ll create the perfect tea blend yet.”

Ivy nodded and hesitated, not sure how much to share of her conversation with Holly and the daring idea she’d just had.

“What is it, dear?” asked her aunt, her back ramrod straight. Her short, pixie-cut hair was colored the same walnut brown it had been her whole life.

Ivy opened her mouth, then lost her nerve. “I’ll be right back.” She scuttled away, doubting the wisdom of bringing them in on her plan. What if they weren’t discreet? The entire town could be laughing at her by sunset, and then there would be Holly’s inevitable scorn. She chewed her lip as she assembled their order. She needed another opinion, or several.

Should she confide in them? Would they think her absurd? Did it matter?

Holly retreated back into her side of the storefront to assist her employees with filling orders. The bell on Holly’s shop door chimed and chimed again, with a constant influx of customers coming in to buy doughnuts and bear claws and loaves of sourdough. If Ivy didn’t sell Holly’s apple tarts and cupcakes in her tea shop, would she have any customers? Really, who couldn’t make their own pot of tea? Still, the scones and cookies were her own unique recipes which she didn’t share with Holly. The scones especially, served with clotted cream, were a local favorite and made the tea party experience special.

Ivy chose a pink-flowered teapot in a sage-green cozy. She organized it all on a gleaming silver tea tray with a matching sugar and creamer, and arranged the cookies, cupcakes, tarts, cinnamon rolls, and scones on white paper doilies. She gave a nod of approval at the presentation, quickly gathered up the tray, and carried it out to the corner.

“You always arrange everything so prettily,” said Marjorie. She gave Ivy a sweet smile. “What’s on your mind?”

Ivy blinked. Was Marjorie a mind reader?

“Yes, share with us.” Hazel’s eyes followed Jaxon Langford through the plate glass window as he made a second lap, walking his dog round the town green. She tapped her lips with a forefinger, as they curved up in a little smile.

Were they all mind readers? Or was she just that obvious? Might as well spill it.

“I made another bet with Holly.”

Lydia scowled. “Ivette darling, I hate that you always lose those bets.” She gave an exasperated sigh. “What is it this time?”

Ivy took a big breath, “That I’ll improve my business by 30% and be in a committed relationship.”

“That doesn’t sound so hard,” said Seymour. “I could fix you up with my grandson, Rory.”

Ivy barely refrained from rolling her eyes at the thought of trying to schedule a date with a rock-band keyboardist, let alone one who was forever on tour.

“It’s not Rory she wants,” hissed Hazel. “He’s never here.” She turned her attention to Ivy and said cannily, “That handsome landlord of yours should be renewing your lease soon.”

“Yes,” said Ivy. This group was way too intuitive. “I plan to keep the tea shop going.”

“What’s the timeline on your bet?”

“End of the month.”

“Definitely doable,” said Marjorie.

Ivy loved Marjorie Hopewell. She was the embodiment of her surname.

“What’s your plan?” asked Aunt Lydia, ever practical.

Ivy’s eyes wandered over to the cookie press on the wall.

“Oh,” they said in unison, followed by a reverent moment of silence.

“Is it true what they say about Hazard? Is our town really magic?” asked Ivy.

“Well, I don’t know about magic. It’s the blessing that makes Hazard special,” said Hazel.

“Speaking the blessing over an object imbues it with power,” added Marjorie, as she stirred a third spoonful of sugar into her tea.

“That cookie press brought love to your parents and has kept them happily together for decades. They share a batch of those cookies each year on their anniversary. They’re still like honeymooners while they cruise round the world performing their little magic shows.” Lydia smiled at the memory.

“Tell me the promise,” Ivy said to her aunt.

“You must know it by heart.”

“Please.”

Lydia’s eyes took on a faraway cast. “The antique cookie press, handed down through generations of our family, when combined with the proper recipe, infuses so much love into the cookies, you’ll win the devotion of the recipient.”

“Who’s the recipient? Your customers? Is that how you plan to improve your business? Good idea,” Seymour nodded in approval. “I’ll keep coming back.” He took a big bite of his scone.

Marjorie’s eyes sparkled. “Yes, that must be it.” She took a delicate sip of her over-sweetened tea before adding another generous dollop from the shiny sugar bowl Ivy moved closer to her. “It couldn’t have anything to do with…”

Ivy cut her off. “What do you think? Would it be fun?”

“Oh, it would definitely be fun.” Lydia clapped her hands.

The four pillars nodded in solidarity at Ivy’s plan.

“You should do it,” they said in unison.

Excerpt. ©Aimee O’Brian. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.
 
 

Giveaway: An ebook copy of THE MAGICAL TEA SHOP + one additional Tule ebook of the winner’s choice

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Meet the Author:

Having lived in both California and Texas, Aimee O’Brian now resides in the beautiful wine country. With her three children grown and experiencing their own adventures, she and her husband are free to explore the world. When she’s not reading, writing, or planting even more perennials in her garden, she can be found stomping through ancient ruins and getting lost in museums.

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