Thank you to Joanne Lui, my editor. Thank you for your dedication and guidance and for your willingness to re-read every tweak I make, no matter how small.
To Alexandra, my proofreader and graphics developer. Thank you for being you on a daily basis and always being my calming center. Thank you for your infinite patience in correcting all the Americanisms in this book!
A special thank you to Dominic and Erica of the Tea & A Butty podcast, for answering all my questions about Wales on air. You both are absolutely lovely people!
Thank you Monique Wilsons at Creatively Sweet Desserts for guidance in all things icing, baking, and decorating. Danielle Holder, thank you for walking me through your creative process when you go to work. You ladies made Poppy come to life, and I’m so grateful for you each taking the time to answer my questions!
Thank you to my Beta Baes. Thank you for always giving me what I need, and not just with the writing process. Thank you for reassurance, for reading, for being a part of my life every day. None of these books happen without you.
To the SJFC-thank you for reading, debating, and supporting every step I take. I adore you ladies.
Alexa Aston, thank you for always providing your thoughts and your feedback. You are the best.
To my Twinnie, Holly Martin- Thank you for always reading my work, offering suggestions, helping me be a better author. But it is your friendship I value about all else. I love you.
Thank you to Jennifer DiCenzo for your passion for reading everything I write and encouraging my creative process. I love you!
The Aven Ellis ARC Team-thank you for wanting to read my words and review my books. I’m so lucky to have such an amazing group of readers with me, no matter what adventure we take!
Finally, thank you to all my readers. None of this happens without your support. I’m truly blessed.
A Note From the Author
Because this story is told from the point of view of a Welsh heroine, I felt it would be true to the character to write her speech and thoughts in UK English. So some of the terms are different (a jumper instead of a sweater) as are some of the spellings (realise instead of realize.) I hope you enjoy this authentic take on Poppy Davies.
Chapter One
A Bespoke Biscuit Artist
“Are you sure you have everything?” Shane asks, anxiously wringing his hands together.
“Do you have your sketchbook, Poppy?” Matilda chimes in, her eyes wide.
I close the lid on the glossy white box in front of me. From underneath the PVC window on top, a stunning display of wedding-themed bespoke biscuits are visible. There’s a groom biscuit in a morning suit, complete with a flower on the lapel and a ruffled cravat. A bride to go with the groom, with a voluminous rosette-piped bottom, topped with satin white lustre dust to make it shimmer like fabric. A ruby engagement ring. A bouquet of myrtle. A Saguaro cactus biscuit, complete with green-sugar prickles and a blooming pink flower, which is the state flower of Arizona, where the bride-to-be is from. In all, I have a dozen custom biscuits in the box, all representing meaningful things for this particular couple’s wedding.
I stare down at my bespoke biscuits, knowing everything is riding on this presentation. Not only for Shane and Matilda, my employers and owners of The Biscuit Cutter, the small bakery in Belgravia where I work, but for me as well.
Because all of our lives will change if I can pull this off.
If my meeting with Prince Christian and his fiancée, Clementine Jones, goes well, we’ll be more than another bakery in London.
We’ll be the bakery that supplied the biscuits for the royal wedding.
I pause for a moment, taking in the utter craziness of the situation. That I, Poppy Davies, a girl from Cardiff, Wales, daughter of the owners of a fish and chip shop, might be the official bespoke biscuit artist of the biggest wedding in decades.
I tap my finger assertively on the box, looking up to smile at the people who took a chance on a young woman with a degree in mathematics and self-taught biscuit decorating skills and let me live my dream of making buttery, sugary dough into delicious works of art.
“I’m ready,” I say confidently. “I have everything I need for the presentation. I’m going to land this business for The Biscuit Cutter.”
“You don’t seem nervous,” Matilda says, eyeing me skeptically. “I don’t know if I should