SO, YOU THINK YOU'RE A CELEBRITY .... CHEF?
By
Caroline James
Publishing 4th
October 2013
These quotes just in!
"A fabulous story, it made me shriek with laughter and I loved
every twist and turn! And so much of it could be only too true! One of my
favourite current reads."
Valentina Harris, Author, Chef & International Cookery School Host.
"You'll go NUTS! about this book! A Great read!" Andrew Nutter, Celebrity Chef
So You Think You're A Celebrity...
Chef?
by
Caroline
James
Mix together…
A tough-cookie media agent who's
clawed her way to the top, and a con-man who wants to open a cookery school.
Add in a washed-up celebrity chef
whose career needs re-building…
Flavour with…
An aging rock star fresh from rehab,
and a Sloane Ranger food writer who gets her own TV show…
Bring to the boil:
At a Gourmet Food Festival, in
Ireland, where anything goes!
When media agent Hilary Hargreaves travels to Ireland to look
at a campaign for a new cookery school, she meets a blast from her past - the
romantic but feckless chef Mickey Lloyd, who is hell-bent on resurrecting his
flagging career. Her tough demeanour is rocked as it becomes apparent Mickey's
intentions involve more than a stint behind a stove in his quest to pursue her.
But as plans for the school gain momentum, she realises that she's developing
more than a passing interest in reformed alcoholic Long Tom Hendry, who owns
the crumbling old mansion where the school will be homed. Hilary has many
ingredients to juggle with her demanding client list - which looks set to boil
over if she doesn't keep control. From London's bustling Soho, to Southern
Ireland and the sunny shores of the Caribbean, has Hilary got too much on her plate
and is she really prepared to risk it all for love?
Caroline James Guest Post for Bookalicious Travel
Addict
My new book So, You Think You're A Celebrity…Chef is set in London,
southern Ireland and Barbados,
three very different destinations! I'll briefly explain how some of the
characters in the book evolved as I visited these places during my own
research.
London…
Media agent Hilary Hargreaves
represents many celebrity chefs. She is the main character in the book and has
an office in Wardour Street
in the heart of Soho. This bustling and
vibrant area provided a perfect backdrop to the busy lives of Hilary, her colleagues
and clients as they hurry about their day-to-day business. I love London and the minute I
get off the train at Euston and pace down the platform my step quickens in
anticipation of the day ahead. London is a cosmopolitan place and during the
research for the book I found myself dining in chic west end restaurants,
imagining who Hilary would be meeting then wandering around bustling markets
and 'villages' (where she loved to shop for vintage clothes), Brixton being one
on my favourites - the eclectic mix of food, music and shopping comes alive in Brixton
Village as day darkens into night.
Southern Ireland…
There is an annual food festival
near Cork in a
town called Kinsale, a picturesque and historic town that lies on the south
west coast and is tourist attraction with lovely arty shops and galleries. It
was a perfect place to send Hilary and her assistant Bob, as guests of Chef Lenny
Crispin who plans to open a cookery school there. One of the biggest surprises
is the astounding number of restaurants - 58 in total to serve a population of
3,000 - whose numbers swell in the summer months. A dozen of so of these eating
establishments serve gourmet food to the highest standard. Keith Floyd, a
celebrity chef whom many may remember for his ritual 'slurp' whilst cooking,
visited the festival and fell in love with the area, so much so that he bought
a cottage and lived there for several years. I wanted to know what drew him and
as soon as I arrived I understood why. The Gourmet Food Festival in Kinsale is
Irish hospitality at its best and the weekend event left such an impression that
I simply had to write about it in a book. From chefs cooking outside in the
town, to a gala ball and a mad-cap food trail with Kinsale's very own Alice and
the Mad Hatter, topped off with a seafood extravaganza - there is something for
all providing you have the stamina to get through the weekend!
Barbados…
A beautiful island steeped in history but with a precarious past. The
first English ship touched the island on May 14th 1625 under the command of
Captain John Powell and island was claimed on behalf of King James I. Land was
allocated to people with good financial backgrounds and social connections with
England and the production of sugar, tobacco and cotton was heavily reliant on
the importation of slaves - forced labour from West Africa who survived
despicable conditions to reach their destination and thereafter, until
abolition in 1834. I've been to Barbados many times and visited plantations to
try and imagine life in those days - for the plantation owners who wielded so
much power and the slaves (including indentured whites who wanted to emigrate
overseas), who had no choice. Barbados
today is very different and goes along at it's own pace, the Bajans are happy
people pleased to pass a pleasantry and while away some time chatting in the
sunshine. There is a tranquility and calm that permeates deep into your bones
and it was a perfect setting for my character -ageing rock singer Long Tom
Hendry to begin a 'come-back' tour when his recording company bought out a
reggae version of his best selling album.
I hope you may also enjoy the journey to these special places, with the
characters in the book.
Happy traveling!
Caroline x
Hilary pressed a security code onto
a keypad. It buzzed and she pushed the front door to her office open and
entered, then flicked it closed with her kitten heel pump and climbed the
stairs. Her footing was cushioned by the soft red pile of an expensive carpet.
Bob had assured her that red was a good feng shui colour – associated with
romance, wealth and happiness. Hilary sighed and wondered why she put up with
his nonsense.
The foyer of Hargreaves Promotions was deserted and Hilary cursed as she
swept past Lottie’s cluttered desk. The girl was nowhere to be seen and the
switchboard lights flickered like traffic lights as they remained unanswered. A
curious sound emanated from Bob’s office, the drone was low-pitched and sounded
painful. Hilary peered through the frosted glass on the panel door then thrust
the door open.
“Good grief, Bob, have you been tangoed?” Hilary planted herself in the
doorway and stared at her assistant in his vivid outfit. He was all beads,
bangles and Buddha since he’d come back from Tibet and Hilary’s patience was
wearing thin. “Where in God’s name did you get that suit?” she asked. “You look
like a space hopper!”
Bob ignored his boss. He kept his eyes closed and fondled the prayer
beads. “Go away, Hilary,” he said quietly. “It’s my lunch break.”
“No, it isn’t,” Hilary said. “It’s three o’clock in the afternoon and
this place is like the Marie Celeste. Where’s Lottie?”
Bob tucked himself under the worn leather top of his mahogany desk and
folded his arms. “She’s gone to get a panini,” he replied. “We’ve never stopped
all day and I shall faint if I don’t get some carbs.”
Hilary stared at a book on Bob’s desk – My Spiritual Journey, Dalai Lama. Bob leaned forward and stroked
the cover protectively.
“Goolanga,” Hilary muttered.
“Aren’t you a little old for all this Hari Krishna nonsense?”
“Don’t knock something you know nothing about,” Bob said and gazed
fondly at his hero’s image.
“I know that my office has ground to a complete standstill the moment I
step out for a quick meeting.” Hilary tapped her elegant 1950s suede shoe’d
foot. “Go and answer the phones please, then make us both an espresso. I want
to hear all about the literary festival in the Cotswolds.” She turned to leave
but called over her shoulder, “When you’re quite sure that that your chakras
are where they should be and you’re ready to do some work…”
Bob screwed his eyes up and let out a hiss between clenched teeth as he
watched Hilary retreat. He glanced at the clock on the wall – Hilary’s “quick
meeting” had been the best part of four hours. He stroked his beads and
breathed through his nose and filled his lungs with air, then exhaled slowly.
He’d give Hilary five minutes then brace himself for her interrogation.
Bob closed his eyes again and thought about the weekend. It had been
awash with literary luvvies who’d flocked to the annual festival. Hilary had
insisted that Bob chaperone one of their clients, Prunella Gray, who was
appearing at the festival to talk about her recently published autobiography.
The festival was set in Chipping Hodbury, a quintessential English town in the
heart of affluent middle England. Pretty limestone buildings, adorned with
flowering window boxes, lined the high street which led to a double-arched
bridge where the River Hod meandered beneath. Chipping Hodbury Theatre was
surrounded by tall weeping willows and gracious lawns which swept down to the
banks of the river where ducks and geese waddled about, searching for scraps of
discarded sandwiches whilst the literary crowd sipped chilled white wine and
picnicked in the glorious sunshine.
Bob thought about the dashing compere, Anthony Merryweather, who’d
watched their arrival and rushed down the theatre steps to open the door of
their courtesy car and greet them. He welcomed them to the festival then swept
Prunella away to prepare for her audience. After several drinks backstage,
Anthony and Bob exchanged numbers and the weekend suddenly brightened for Bob. Prunella
had given a riveting talk and left the stage to a standing ovation. Enthralled
fans hung onto her every word as she embroiled her life story and described the
many perils she’d encountered in the kitchens of well-known establishments
during her career progression. Prunella was an established household name in
the world of food and drink and her warts-and-all autobiography looked set to
be a best seller. She had Hilary to thank for her success but “thanks” was a swear word to Prunella Gray and
she’d been ruthless in her climb to the top. Bob had strict instructions to
stay with Prunella all weekend and Hilary’s warnings rung in his ears – Prunella was not to be left alone, especially with journalists!
It had been exhausting as Prunella had a rampant appetite for vodka. She
was known as the Poison Dwarf in culinary circles and, in Bob’s opinion, was an
absolute bitch. He’d seen chefs freeze like snared prey and jack-knife away to
avoid her at restaurant openings and media events, where Prunella tracked her
victims. Her sweet little face peered out from a heavy dark fringe and reminded
Bob of the Bette Davis film What Ever
Happened to Baby Jane. Baby Jane was most definitely alive and well and
lived in a town house in Queen’s Park, where he’d deposited a drunken Prunella
in a heap on Sunday evening.
Bob smiled as he remembered that he was meeting Anthony the following
evening at a restaurant called Dabbous. He couldn’t wait to drop this in to
Hilary – there was a long waiting list for a table but Anthony knew the manager
and had procured a table for eight o’clock.
A tapping sound startled Bob.
Lottie,
the company receptionist, pushed open the door with her pert bottom. Her size
three feet, daintily encased in pink pumps, danced into the room. She balanced
a plate of prawn filled panini in one hand and a mug of peppermint tea in the
other and teetered over to Bob’s desk.
“You’ve got two minutes to eat this. Hilary is on the war-path and wants
you in her office pronto.” Lottie shook her tousled hair and adjusted a
polka-dot bandana. “Prunella’s been on the phone,” Lottie continued. “She says
you abandoned her all weekend and copped off with a compere as camp as
Christmas, then left her to her own devices.”
Bob spat out several prawns. He gazed at Lottie with saucer-like eyes. “Shite!” he mumbled.
“That’s not very Dalai Lama – you’d better say a few chants before you
go in.” Lottie wandered away to her desk in reception. She slipped a head-set
on and began to take calls on the pulsating switchboard.
“Hargreaves Promotions. How may I help you today?”
Caroline James was born in Cheshire and wanted to be a writer
from an early age. She
trained, however, in the catering trade and worked and
travelled both at home and abroad.
Caroline has owned and run many related businesses and cookery is a
passion alongside her writing, combining the two with her love of the
hospitality industry and romantic fiction.
Caroline can generally be found with her nose in a book and
her hand in a box of chocolates and when not doing either, she likes to write,
climb mountains and contemplate life.
She writes fun, romantic fiction and is a member of the RNA
and The Society of Authors. She has had numerous short stories published and
writes a regular column for a lifestyle magazine.
Caroline's debut novel, Coffee,
Tea, The Gypsy & Me went straight to #3 on Amazon and was E-book of the
Week in The Sun newspaper. Her next book, So
You Think You're A Celebrity… Chef? Will be published on October 4th 2013
by Thornberry Publishing.
Web: www.carolinejamesauthor.co.uk
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/carolinejamesauthor
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/550084.Caroline_James
Great Giveaway!
5 x Chocolate Brownies (UK
only)
In the book, gorgeous
Gary from Bon Appetite! makes sublime melt-in-your-mouth brownies. We’ve
commisioned award winning Brownie Queen, Justine Forrest to supply her amazing
brownies, individually boxed as a giveaway treat!
5 x Bespoke Book Bags (UK and International)
The perfect little bag
to pop your book or kindle in – don’t forget your glasses and a bar of
chocolate! Individually designed for this tour by Leanda Peters Designs.
Signed Paperback copy of So You Think You’re a Celebrity … Chef?(UK)
Kindle Gift Copy of So You Think You’re a Celebrity … Chef?(International)
a Rafflecopter giveaway
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