BRENDA NOVAK AUCTION

A last minute reminder if you were thinking of making a last minute bid on the Brenda Novak Auction which closes today.  My offering - apart from a share in the Harlequin Romance Authors Kindle and book bundle is a couple of signed books

Lots of other good stuff on offer so do drop by and take a look around at all the goodies including critiques on partials from authors such as Kate Walker, jewellery, books, meets with editors and promotional stuff.

Go Swans!

My local football team are in the play-offs at Wembley today.  If they win, they'll be in the Premiership next season.

Excitement is huge - saw cars out on Saturday with flags flying.  Forty thousand fans have traveled to London for the match and the capital will be inundated with heol..

Go Swans!

IT'S THE BEST BELOVED'S BIRTHDAY...

ASK AN AUTHOR - 1

I recently posted on Facebook inviting my fans and friends to ask me a question about writing – something that I could answer, at length on my blog.

One of the first to be posted addressed the subject of openings. 

“When would you recommend the couple actually meet in a romance? First page, or can we meet them separately first and then witness them meeting each other?”

Excellent question.

In Grabbing the Reader on the First Page, an article on my website on the subject of openings, I advise new writers to dive in.  Start with action.  Get the hero and heroine together on the first page – the first line if possible.  I wrote it in response to a number of unpublished manuscripts I’d read where the writer had no idea how to begin a story, struggling with the weather, the setting, the scenery, anything but get on with the story. 

I wanted to show the inexperienced writer how to grab a reader by the throat in the first sentence.  And, just an important, show one or both of the main characters in action – even if it was only mental activity.

Most of my early books do start with a confrontation between the hero and heroine and if you can manage that I still think it’s the way to go, particularly with short fiction.  A reader recently commented on the way the characters leap out of the first page in my latest book TEMPTED BY TROUBLE and clearly loved that the roller-coaster started on line one.   

But…

Accepting that this advice comes under the heading of “don’t do what I do, do what I say”,  I freely admit that it isn’t the only way, even with the shortest novels.  Despite the fact that I write books that are no more than 55,000 words, occasionally my hero and heroine don’t come face to face until the end of chapter one.

That’s the case in my first book, AN IMAGE OF YOU, but my heroine has met the hero in the past and everything she does in the first chapter is dictated by her memory of that encounter — and the knowledge that she’s going to have to face him again.  From a distance of eight thousand miles he is changing her life, forcing her into moves she would not otherwise make.  He is there, on the page from line one and the reader can’t wait to see the impending clash when they meet. 

Often, to bring the hero into the story - while concentrating on the heroine -  I will show him responding to some crisis; a move that will ultimately bring him into contact with the heroine, but CITY GIRL IN TRAINING and A SURPRISE CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL are written in the first person so that’s not an option.  In both books the first chapter belongs entirely to the heroine, the hero unmentioned, unknown.  It doesn’t seem to have bothered readers, since both books were hugely popular, and City Girl was nominated for a Rita.

What each of these books do have is a heroine who fizzes with life from line one, filling every page with character, motivation, conflict and fun.  By the time Philly is fighting with her potential hero over a taxi, and Sophie is risking life and limb to get at the unconscious Gabriel York, the reader can’t wait to find out what kind of trouble they are in. 

ELOPING WITH EMMY offers a different kind of opening.  The slow build up.  It begins with Tom Brodie talking to the heroine’s father.  The action switches to Emmy — the subject of the conversation — who has been locked in an attic nursery by her father. The scene switches back and forth between the two of them showing Tom’s growing dislike of Gerald Carlisle, and Emmy’s increasingly desperate attempts to escape until, as he leaves, Tom spots Emmy climbing down the drainpipe and has to choose between warning Carlisle, or distracting him so that Emmy can make her escape.  The switching gets faster and faster, like the build-up to a collision in a movie.

Faced with a story with a particularly complicated back story, one where I don’t want to have an information dump but want the reader to know what’s happening, I use a different technique.  In the first book of the Boardroom Bridegroom trilo, THE CORPORATE BRIDEGROOM, I started with a five line Press Release, followed it with the brief newspaper report that followed  — punchy, pacy with a touch of humour, to fill in the background to the boardroom battle between the Claibournes and the Farradays — attached that to a memo from Jordan Farraday to his cousins, and added an email from India Claibourne to her sisters.  When, Romana collides with Niall in the opening proper, we have the classic first page confrontation — and, with the use of small, entertaining snippets — the reader already understand what's at stake. 

So here’s the truth.  Each story is different.  The situation the heroine finds herself in will dictate how it will open.  What is vital, however, is that it starts at the moment of change.  That it starts with action.  That from the moment she steps onto the page she is on a roller-coaster and, grabbing the reader, takes her along for the ride. 

And the weather only matters if it's blowing a force nine gale and your heroine is in a very small boat, if she's broken down in the desert and just swallowed her last mouthful of water, or a flood has her trapped on the roof (preferably with a baby in her arms). 

If you'd like to write the first hundred of words of your story beginning with any of those three scenarios, go for it.  I've got copies of City Girl in Training, The Corporate Bridegroom and Eloping With Emmy for three that make me want to read on.

OLD DESIRES

It's always a joy to see a long out of print book make a return appearance and this is a brand new LP library reprint of one of my earlier books.

What if...

What if you were getting on with your life quite happily and then one day a disturbingly attractive stranger knocked on your door and told you that you weren't who you thought you were?  That all your life the people you loved had been lying to you. Shattering your world with old secrets, hidden desires...

How would you react?  Who could you trust?

If you want to read Holly's story, ask at your local library for a copy.


Coming up...

ASK THE AUTHOR...

I invited friends on Facebook to ask me questions about writing and I'll be answering them here starting on Monday.  If you have a question that you're burning to ask an author, then email me on liz at lizfielding dot com - or leave a comment - and I'll do my best to answer.

and...

THE BEAUMONT BRIDES

all three books in the Beaumont Brides trilogy are now available as eBooks at Amazon US, Amazon UK and Amazon, Germany (where, incidentally, some of my books are now available in German). They are also available at Smashwords.

HERE'S LIZ...

Thank you all so much for a fun competition.  Well done!

Most of you got it - I thought the glasses were a giveaway, to be honest, but the mouth has not changed a bit.

The dress, in case anyone is the slightest bit interested was a deep blue with a desperately old-fashioned yoke and tied at the back with a bow.  And we wore panama hats and grey blazers with blue and grey badge.  The white collar was not detachable.

The girl directly in front of me, by the way, is Caroline Clifton-Mogg, now an acclaimed journalist and author of books such as French Country Living.

Now for the prizes.  Everyone gets a book - on a first come, first served basis - from the following list: -

A Nanny For Keeps
A Family of His Own
City Girl in Training
The Ordinary Princess
Her Ideal Husband
Eloping With Emmy
Dating Her Boss

Take you pick and send me an email - liz at lizfielding dot com - better give two choices!

Next up will be the first of an occasional series called Ask An Author - and if you have a burning question about writing in general, or for Harlequin Mills and Boon in particular, then drop me a line, or leave a comment and I'll add it to the list I'm building up.

A WINNER , AND,FIND THE LADY...

Jennifer - Moosetracks takes the prize. Nothing could beat that! Send me an email with your snail mail addy and I'll get your prize in the post to you, asap.

An overwhelming vote for chocolate, I think. And Cherry Garcia... I really want to try that.

Now, since this is launch time, I have another competitions for you!

Below is a photograph I found today.

It's my school class - teacher Madam Patrick - taken when I was eleven years old. Don't we all look sweet.  If you can find me, I'll put your name in a draw for a copy of a book from my backlist.

Comments are also welcome!

Eeeek!

What happened there, then?

Never mind, you still have until first thing on Monday morning to comment on the post below for a chance to win a copy of TEMPTED BY TROUBLE.

BRAVA!

I now have a title for the Italian book. This took longer than usual. Editorial didn’t think my suggestion, Italian for Beginners was romantic enough. I didn’t care very much for their alternative. Time was running out. The lack of a title was holding up production. A list of suggestions was produced and then, out of the blue, I took a bit of mine, a bit of theirs and, fingers crossed, breath held, I made my suggestion.

Readers, I have a title. FLIRTING WITH ITALIAN will be published in December.

Meanwhile, TEMPTED BY TROUBLE is now available in paper or to download online at eHarlequin and Mills and Boon. Kindle users – and those of you in the southern hemisphere - will have to wait until June. But you can read the first chapter by clicking on the link at the top of the sidebar.

Since a book launch wouldn’t be complete without a treat, I have a lovely shiny RIVA edition to give away. For a chance to win this, tell me about your best (or worst) ice cream moments. What was the most luscious ice cream you ever ate? The most memorable? The one that cheered you up on a bad day, or the huge one that made you sick.

Here's a quote to concentrate your mind -

‘All you have to do is press this button and the machine dispenses exactly the right amount of ice cream.’

Sean was standing behind her, one hand over hers as she held a cone poised beneath the nozzle. With his other hand he pressed the button and moved the cone beneath it as the ice cream descended.

It was hard enough to concentrate with his arms around her but then, as he leaned over her shoulder and took a mouthful of the result, his chin grazed her temple and she turned to look at him.

‘Your turn,’ he said.

‘My turn?’

A smear of ice cream decorated his top lip. Without thinking her reflex was to lick her own lip as she imagined how it would feel to lick it off. How it would taste. How he would taste…


 I’ll pick a winner next Monday morning (UK time).

Alternatively you can put in a bid for a signed copy of this (and Becoming the Tycoon’s Bride) at Brenda Novak’s Auction and have the added joy of knowing your money will be going to a good cause.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

BRENDA NOVAK AUCTION

It's time for the fabulous annual event that is the Brenda Novak Charity Auction.

Over the last few years, best-selling author, Brenda Novak has raised over a $1,000,000 for research into Diabetes with a lot of help from her friends in the "romance" industry.  There will be fabulous lots, some of them going for many thousands of dollars.  Exciting "quick" auctions throughout the month.

There are also a lot more modest items on offer.  Lots of authors offering advice to unpublished writers, hundreds of signed books to be snapped up for a small sum.  As a member of the PINK HEART SOCIETY, my individual lot is listed on their special page, where you'll find signed books from other Harlequin authors and some very pretty jewellery. 

The truly exciting lot on the page, though, is a Kindle donated by HARLEQUIN ROMANCE authors, fully loaded with more than a dozen books - worth around $60 by themselves.

We've put this together as a treat for one lucky fan - so if you're thinking about buying a Kindle anyway, this will give you the added joy of ensuring that the money you pay will go to a very worthwhile cause.

Click PINK HEART SOCIETY and start bidding!

ROYAL WEDDING

I've just order my Royal Wedding mug from Mills & Boon.  It's elegant, simple and I need a new mug, but like everyone, as the day draw nearer I find myself more and more caught up in the excitement. I've been going back through pictures of royal brides, married within my own lifetime (just) - and here are some of them:

The Queen and Prince Phillip  

Princess Margaret and Anthony Armstrong Jones

Princess Alexandra to Angus Ogilvey

Prince Charles to Lady Diana Spencer

Prince Andrew to Sarah Ferguson

Prince Edward to Sophie

















In the early hours of this morning there was a major rehearsal for the wedding - the soldiers, airmen, cars and carriages taking the route that Catherine and William will take on Friday.  Making sure that everything will go without a hitch.

Let us hope that their marriage will proceed as smoothly, riding over the bumps of everyday life to come smiling through. 

HAPPY ST GEORGE'S DAY!

Calling all eBook lovers..

I've finally got The Beaumont Brides loaded onto Smashwords and to celebrate I'm giving my fans a chance to download WILD JUSTICE for free using the following code - WX82P - which you simply apply at the checkout.

It's only available for a short time, so grab it while it's going!

A LAZY WEEKEND

So, here I am, ordered to keep my foot "up".  This is strange territory for me.  I'm not given to lying on the sofa (give or take the odd "nana" nap at the end of the day).

I watched the Grand Prix - great result! - and I read.  A lot.

First up, I finished Michael Dibden's Aurelio Zen - And Then You Die.  The books are nothing like the television series, but I love them.

Then I read Marrying a Prince by Sophie Page.  Lovely, lovely romance with a deliciously gruesome New Year's party involving Scottish country dancing.  It's years since I've danced an eightsome reel, which is the best fun, but then I didn't knock off the Queen's tiara.  Blissful.  Hated when it ended.

After that, I caught up on Sue Grafton's alphabet murders, with U is for Undertow.  Not quite as scary as some of her earlier books, but it was high standard.  Hope for a new one soon.

Then I read the latest Kate Hardy medical, The Fireman and Nurse Loveday.  A delightfully warm and emotional romance with a scrumptious hero, exactly what you'd expect from Kate - and with the lovely St Piran, Cornish setting.

Then I downloaded an excerpt from Major Pettigrew's Last Stand.  I love that about Kindle.  You can try a chunk before you buy.   And of course I bought.  (You can download a big excerpt of my Beaumont Brides books and give them a go, too.  They'll be available on Smashwords for all eBook platforms soon.  I'll tell you when.)

I just wish I hadn't had to stick a garden fork in my foot to get all that wonderful reading time!

AN INTERESTING START TO THE WEEK

I’m not sure what I was going to write about in my blog when I got up this morning. I’m sure there was something, but first I had to put the kettle on, get the rubbish out and oh, yes, there was cardboard in the garage that had to go out to be recycled.

Having flattened the cardboard and feeling pretty good about my green start to the day, I forgot to look where I was going. The searing pain in my foot as I speared myself on a garden fork that had fallen – and I have no one to blame but myself for this – near the door, dealt with that quick smart.

Beneath the cardboard I couldn’t see my foot and I thought I’d just knocked it. I winced and carried on as you do. Except that after two steps it was obvious that my foot was sloshing about inside my shoe. I tend not to make a fuss and since it was seven in the morning there was no one about to rush to my aid even if I had. But the cardboard was abandoned while I squelched my way into the kitchen, grabbed a tea towel to catch the blood and applied pressure.

Have you ever tried to apply pressure to the top of your foot? At full stretch. Bearing in mind I am not built like a ballerina. At all.

I grabbed a box of plasters and here’s a thing. Whenever I cut my finger I can only find plasters the size of my hand. Today, when I wanted something big, I could only find the kind you stick on fingers. But there’s something in the plaster pad that helps stop bleeding so I stuck away, replacing rapidly as necessary, then propped my foot up. I think it was the propping up that did it, to be honest.

I now have a garden fork tine shaped hole in my right foot, a small bruise and some swelling. Not much to show for the drama - or the pain..

The foot is sore and I have the joy of a tetanus booster to look forward to tomorrow - and I am reminded of an incident in the best beloved's distance past when he was hit on the chin with a shovel by an irate labourer on site he was managing.  The doc insisted on giving him a tetanus jab.  The bb resisted, explaining that it was a very clean shovel.  The doctor, without batting an eyelid, merely inquired whether it had been sterilised.

So I'm writing this with my foot up on a dining chair, feeling a bit limp, but honestly I look around at what else is happening in the world and, on the scale of 1 – 10, I reckon my little accident doesn’t even register.

And the good news is that I’m excused gardening for the rest of the week.

GETTING TO GRIPS WITH KINDLE

I have been thinking about publishing my Beaumont Brides trilogy on Kindle ever since I realized it was possible.

The books were published in the UK and had a limited retail presence in the US and Australia.  They were, I think, translated into Russian and one or two other languages, but have been out of print for a fair while.

I did publish them as a free reads serial on The Beaumont Brides blog a couple of years ago.  

Finally, when I finished the first draft of my Italian book, I took the bull by the horns, so to speak, re-edited (I was working off my finished mss rather than what eventually made it to print) and was ready to go.

No.  Not ready to go.  I needed cover art.

Actually, that was the fun bit - finding the artwork.  The best beloved then did his magic adding titles and author name, at which point I hit a brick wall. 

The instructions for uploading the mss to Amazon suggested it was simple but my version looked a mess. 

Enter the lovely Jenni, who did the technical stuff for me and voila - a week later all three books are now available to download via Kindle (or your PC if you don't have an eReader).

When I have recovered from the trauma, I will attack the other eBook platforms.  Meanwhile, if you like to try before you buy, the first chapters of all three books are available here

COLORADO AWARD OF EXCELLENCE

I had a bit of news last night, just before I went to bed.  The kind that good dreams are made from.

SOS: Convenient Husband Required has been shortlisted in the Short Contemporary Category for the Colorado Award of Excellence

Also listed is my good friend, Harlequin Romance author Donna Alward for her book HER LONE COWBOY - which I have read and loved.

And if you want to check out more recent good news for Harlequin Romance authors, then click here

BARGAIN PRICE FOR PRE-ORDER...

WINNER! J L CAMPBELL won last week's competition for a copy of THE ORDINARY PRINCESS

* * *

It's a bit early to be talking about my JUNE release, TEMPTED BY TROUBLE, but I just checked in at my favourite on line store and I noticed that they have a pre-order offer of £2.99.  That's a whole £1 less than it will cost you retail and you won't have to pay postage no matter where you are in the world because it's at The Book Depository

I know from the last time I send you in the direction of a low price deal there that it won't last for long, so don't hang about.

Excuse me while a stop for a grin.  I've been grinning like an idiot since I first saw the cover. 

And if you want a sneak peek to whet your appetite, here's the opening -




‘LOVAGE Amery?’

If ever there had ever been a moment to follow grandma’s example and check her reflection in the mirror before she opened the front door, Elle decided, this was it.

On her knees and up to her Marigolds in soapy water when the door bell rang she hadn’t bothered to stop and fix hair sliding out of its elastic band. And there wasn’t much she could have done about a face pink and shiny from a day spent catching up with the housework while everyone was out, culminating in scrubbing the kitchen floor.

It was the complete Cinderella workout.

She couldn’t afford a fancy gym membership and, as she was always telling her sisters, cleaning was a lot more productive than pounding a treadmill. Not that they’d ever been sufficiently impressed by the argument to join in.

Lucky them.

Even sweaty lycra had to be a better look than an ancient shirt tied around the waist with an equally geriatric psychedelic tie. Sexier than the jeans bagging damply around her knees.

It wouldn’t normally have bothered her and, to be fair, the man standing on the doorstep hadn’t made much of an effort, either. His thick dark hair was sticking up in a just-got-out-of-bed look and his chin was darkened with what might be designer stubble but was more likely to be a disinclination to shave on Saturday, when he didn’t have to go into the office.

Always assuming that he had an office to go to. Or a job.

Like her, he was wearing ancient jeans, in his case topped with a t-shirt that should have been banished to the duster box. The difference was, that on him it looked mouth-wateringly good. So good that she barely noticed that he’d made free with a name she’d been trying to keep to herself since she’d started kindergarten.

Swiftly peeling off the yellow rubber gloves she’d kept on as a “sorry, can’t stop” defence against one of the neighbours dropping by with some excuse to have a nose around, entertain the post office queue with insider gossip on just how bad things were at Gable End, she tossed them carelessly over her shoulder.

‘Who wants to know?’ she asked.

Her hormones might be ready to throw caution to the wind – they were Amery hormones, after all – but while they might have escaped into the yard for a little exercise, she wasn’t about to let them go “walkies”.

‘Sean McElroy.’

His voice matched the looks. Low, sexy, soft as Irish mist. And her hormones flung themselves at the gate like a half-grown puppy in a let-me-at-him response as he offered his hand.

Cool, a little rough, reassuringly large, it swallowed hers up as she took it without thinking, said, ‘How d’you do?’ in a voice perilously close to the one her grandmother used when she met a good looking man. With that hint of breathiness that spelled trouble.

‘I’m doing just fine,’ he replied, his slow smile obliterating all memory of the way she looked. Her hair, the lack of makeup and damp knees. It crinkled around those mesmerisingly blue eyes and fanned out comfortably in a way that suggested they felt right at home there.

Elle had begun to believe that she’d bypassed the genetic tick that reduced all Amery women to putty in the presence of a good looking man.

Caught off guard, she discovered that she’d been fooling herself.

The only reason she’d escaped so far, it seemed, was because until this moment she hadn’t met a man with eyes of that particularly intense shade of blue.

A man with shoulders wide enough to carry the troubles of the world and tall enough not to make her feel awkward about her height, which had been giving her a hard time since she’d hit a growth spurt somewhere around her twelfth birthday. With a voice that seemed to whisper right through her bones until it reached her toes.

Even now they were curling inside her old trainers in pure ecstasy.

He epitomised the casual, devil-may-care, bad-boy look of the travelling men who, for centuries, had arrived on the village common in the first week of June with the annual fair and departed a few days later, leaving a trail of broken hearts and the occasional fatherless baby in their wake.

Trouble.

A ROYAL ROMANCE

There's nothing like a royal wedding to get everyone excited.  Mills and Boon have issued a commemorative mug - you'll find it on their website; link opposite - and there are a load of "royal romance" books on the shelves.

I've only written one "royal romance" book. THE ORDINARY PRINCESS, and since it's just been released as an eBook, I thought it would be a great giveaway this month. 

Laura Varndell, my heroine, is a bit of a republican.  She's also in trouble with her career.  She has ambitions to be a great crusading reporter like her aunt, but she keeps getting sidetracked by her emotions and missing the big story.   Her boss has given her one last chance.  Bring home a headline or rewrite her career plan.

Her aunt suggests she interview Prince Alexander Orsino.  The most elusive royal in the world.   He looks down his long nose at her from a photograph taken at a charity gala and she is hooked. 

Breaking his niece's ankle is not a good start.

‘I left her just here,’ Laura insisted, pointing to the spot where they’d both crashed to the cobbles.

‘With a broken ankle?’ Prince Alexander did not sound convinced. He glanced up at the nearby drainpipe. ‘How far did she fall?’ he asked, without waiting for explanations. He evidently knew his niece very well indeed.

‘She didn’t fall,’ she began, then stopped.

She had no wish to dwell on what – or who -- had caused the injury. Besides there were more important things to worry about. Like, what had happened to the princess? Two minutes ago she’d been lying where they were standing. Injured, unable even to attempt to hobble to the front door. Now she’d vanished into thin air.

‘I left her just here,’ she said. ‘I put my jacket under her head and…’

‘It’s not here now,’ he said, cutting short her explanation.

‘I was just going to say that!’ Then, ‘Oh!’ She turned and stared up at the Prince in total horror as the reality of what must have happened sank in. ‘She’s been kidnapped hasn’t she? And it’s all my fault!’

‘I doubt that.’ Prince Alexander appeared totally unmoved by her dramatic declaration. Or the fate of his niece. Clearly he didn’t understand what she was telling him.

‘Yes, really!‘ she insisted. It was no good. She’d have to own up. ‘Look, I saw her climbing down the drainpipe and I thought she was a burglar, so I tackled her to the ground.’ His dark brows rose imperceptibly. Actually, putting it baldly like that, it did seem pretty unlikely she realised, but after the briefest pause, she pressed on with her confession. ‘That’s when she broke her ankle. As I said, my fault. I didn’t want to leave her –'

‘But she insisted?’ Then, without giving her an opportunity to reply, ‘I wasn’t actually referring to your culpability.  Merely to your reasoning.’

What?

‘Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Princess Katerina told me that she wasn’t supposed to be out. I get the picture, okay? You’re mad at her and she’s in trouble. But that scarcely matters under the circumstances. She’s disappeared and you have to do something. Now!’

‘I’m sorry, Miss …’ He paused offering her an opportunity to introduce herself.

‘Varndell,’ she completed quickly. She was beginning to suspect that this was a man who wouldn’t do anything until the social niceties had been satisfied. No matter what the emergency. ‘Laura Varndell. But I really don’t think-’

‘Alexander Orsino,’ he replied, offering his hand. ‘How d’you do?’

That was it. Enough.

‘This isn’t a cocktail party!’ she declared, furiously, ignoring his hand. ‘And I know who you are. All I want to know is what you’re going to do about finding your niece!’

‘Nothing while I’m standing in this alleyway,’ he informed her, his voice cool enough to freeze a whole pitcher of cocktails. ‘If you’ll come back into the house –'

Ice? Had she thought the man was made of something as warm as ice?

‘I don’t want to go back into the house!’

What was she saying!

Hadn’t she been standing on the pavement trying to come up with some plan to get herself invited inside? Her whole career depended upon it. Possibly. But right now Princess Katerina’s disappearance took precedence.

‘I want you to call the police - or Special Branch - or the Diplomatic Protection Squad. Right now!’ she demanded, when he didn’t leap to her command.

‘And how do you suggest I do that?’ he enquired, apparently unperturbed by the crisis.

That “serene” bit of his title wasn’t just for show, apparently. But this wasn’t a time for serenity. It was a time for panic.

‘Shout?’ he offered, when she didn’t help him out.

The air left her lungs with a little whoosh, deflating, along with the rest of her. ‘No … sorry - of course not,’ she muttered. Then she laughed – well it was more of a giggle really, but even so, quite unforgivable under the circumstances.

‘I don’t appear to be thinking very clearly.’ Which had to be the understatement of the year. ‘I’m not used to this kind of thing.’

‘You’ve had a shock, Miss Varndell, one for which my niece will, in due course, apologise. In the meantime I really do think you should come inside. Take a moment to recover.’

It was hysterics, of course. The desperate urge to giggle. In some small rational part of her brain she recognised that. This man’s niece had been kidnapped and all he was concerned about was that a total stranger might have suffered a little shock.

Noblesse oblige was safe in the hands of His Serene Highness Prince Alexander Michael George Orsino.

And why would she be complaining, exactly?

She’d got her wish. The Prince was inviting her into his home and handing her a scoop on a plate. The inside story on a royal kidnapping was just what she needed to get back into Trevor McCarthy’s good books. The very least she could do was to say “thank you” very nicely and let His High Serenity take her inside so that she could do her research in comfort.

While she was recovering.

Slowly.

So that she could watch the story unfold around her.

‘Thank you,’ she said, as nicely - if somewhat breathlessly - as she knew how. ‘I do seem to be feeling a little bit shaky.’

One moment it was an act, the next it was nothing but the truth as the Prince took her elbow in his palm and directed her firmly towards his front door. His manner suggested that, thoughtful though his invitation had appeared, he’d had no intention of letting her go anywhere until he’d grilled her about her involvement in his niece’s disappearance.

She swallowed.

It would make great copy, she reminded herself.

Once she’d got bail.

For a chance to win a paper copy of THE ORDINARY PRINCESS, tell me what you thoughts are on the royal wedding.  What you hope for Will and Kate.  What you'll be doing to celebrate on the day.  Or not.  A memory of some other royal wedding.  I'll draw a prize-winner from all the comments on Sunday March 27th (which was my parents wedding day).

Meantime, if you want one for your Kindle, you'll find it here on Amazon