The Magic of Christmas Tree Farm - blog tour

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The Magic of Christmas Tree Farm – Erin Green

 

About the author

 

Erin was born and raised in Warwickshire, where she resides with her husband. She writes contemporary novels focusing on love, life and laughter. An ideal day for Erin involves writing, people watching and copious amounts of tea. Erin was delighted to be awarded The Katie Fforde Bursary in 2017 and previously, Love Stories ‘New Talent Award’ in 2015.

 

Follow Erin

 

Twitter: @ErinGreenAuthor

Facebook: @ErinGreenAuthor

 

About the book

 

From the author of the bestselling A Christmas Wish comes a new festive romance to warm your heart. Choosing the perfect Christmas tree is hard, but finding love at Christmas is even harder...

 

The scent of pine fills the crisp air as local villagers select their perfect tree. Picking the tree is the easy bit, creating a perfect Christmas is a bit trickier . . .

 

Nina has the most magical job in the world, matching customers with their perfect Christmas tree. Working at Christmas Tree Farm is always fun and full of laughter but the weight of past tragedy bears down on her. Her admirer is a great distraction, but is he the right man for her? Holly is just trying to be a normal teenager, having to deal with the mean girls in her class. But then the most handsome boy at school takes an interest in her. Have all her Christmases come at once? Angie is trying to bring her family together and save her broken marriage. It’s not something she can force, but it’s the only gift she craves. Will her Christmas wish come true? It’s the season of goodwill, and at Christmas Tree Farm anything could happen . . .

 

Buy links

 

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2NWhk7l
iBooks: https://apple.co/2LfuRUK

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2JwnLKP
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2BTm1N5

 

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Website: www.ariafiction.com

Twitter: @aria_fiction

Facebook: @ariafiction

Instagram: @ariafiction

 

EXTRACT

One

Nina

Saturday, 8 December

The Christmas trees loom overhead dominating the morning’s inky skyline, as I trudge along the farm’s muddy driveway towards a busy eleven-hour shift.

The dawn chorus hasn’t started yet; there’s nothing around at this hour, apart from a stray fox on his morning prowl, as the birds prepare their opening notes. Despite the serenity, my heart feels like a lump of coal wedged behind my ribs.

My torch bumps against my leg as I walk the lonely track even though I don’t use it. It’s purely for emergencies, as I know the route like the back of my hand. The farm dominates the local area providing a green and pleasant boundary to our tiny village of Baxterley.

The air is thick with the fragrant smell of the Norway spruce planted each side of the dirt track. Mature trees planted decades ago resemble giants; their outstretched branches hang low as if greeting my early arrival to work.

A flash of red catches my eye: there he is, my fat robin bouncing on a spruce bough, his head twitching and his beady eye watching me, before taking flight. I say ‘my’ – he’s one of many living amongst the Christmas trees, but I pretend there’s only one, mine.

‘Welcome to the Christmas Tree Farm,’ I whisper to him as he perches on the farm gate. The farm’s wooden five-barred gate bears a decorative sign overhead proudly declaring ‘Grower of the Year – Champion Tree’, which we won at the British Christmas Tree Growers’ Association’s annual competition – the equivalent of a five-star accolade for any restaurant or hotel, an award my boss is eager to promote to the public.

‘Our Christmas trees are categorised by species and cut to size. Please ask if you can’t find the spruce you require.’ After nine years, I don’t need to practise my selling spiel but do purely through habit.

I release the metal latch and tether the gate open, and enter in preparation for a busy day. It’ll save someone having to run down later to unlatch it.

I’m permanent all year round. There are not many of us – Boss Fielding hires and lays off a crowd of casual workers each year. Thankfully, I proved myself to be a hard worker long ago, so get to enjoy the beauty of this farm all year round.

I sat my exams in June 2009, left school and a week later started work here – who’d have thought Christmas trees needed nurturing in July? That was nine years ago; couldn’t say how many trees I’ve sold in that time.

An icy wind blows. The forecasters have been threatening snowfall across Warwickshire – such a prediction is guaranteed to make my boss happy. Snowfall increases Christmas tree sales as a sunny day increases ice-cream sales. Though, for us farm workers it means working in snow drifts and blizzards. It’s one thing breaking your back to sell spruces to the general public, but another game clearing tonnes of snow prior to a shift to make the farm safe for public access.

I continue along the rutted but lengthy track, wide enough for tractors, which can be dark and gloomy at this time of year, yet I’m never lonely here. How can anyone ever be lonely whilst surrounded by nature, and her ever-changing beauty? Each season delivers its own delights – winter is simply the pinnacle of our year.

I’ve learnt that if my hands are busy, my mind is occupied too. That’s the magic of Christmas Tree Farm – there’s always a warmth and excitement which helps me to forget… A lengthy shift filled with chaotic families browsing, selecting and, sadly for some, arguing over their choice of Christmas tree is what I need. You wouldn’t believe the time taken by some families to choose their tree and we only sell four species: Blue spruce, Nordman fir, Norway spruce or a Fraser fir.

Even when the type of tree is selected, some argue about the height: a teeny weeny, a standard or the ultimate jolly green giant. Most families buy just one so I understand their desire for perfection. Their perfect spruce can equal their perfect Christmas. Occasionally, some families purchase multiple trees: one for the lounge, another for their hallway and a tree with roots that can be planted in the front garden. We charge by the foot, so it can be an expensive purchase and cost can be the deciding factor. At some point today, I’m bound to hear the age-old remark, ‘Or should we leave it and dust off the old plastic one from the loft?’ I’ll smile, pretend I didn’t hear and hope they don’t ignore our range of beautiful spruces. In my opinion, you can’t beat a real Christmas tree – guaranteeing seasonal cheer and a gorgeous fragrance. If push comes to shove and they are still contemplating the dusty artificial one in preference to our beauties, I’ll swiftly move the family towards a Norway spruce and accidentally charge the wrong price. Call it what you will, Christmas spirit or seasonal kindness, the boss will never know. Let’s face it; life’s too short to worry about money. Our spruces will be bare, brown and beside the dustbin come 6 January, so you need to enjoy them while you can.

Today is the opening day of the season, 8 December. If it’s anything like the last nine Christmas seasons, I’ll dash between families, trying my very best to fetch, carry and answer every plausible question thanks to my extensive knowledge of each species. I’ll smile sweetly, serve mulled wine and warmed mince pies and greet everyone as they arrive at the farm.