Countdown to Her Royal Mistake

A new release always fills me with a mixture of emotions. Excitement that I can send another romance is out in the world, to give readers some sigh-worthy emotion and another happy ending. Trepidation because what if some readers think my baby is ugly. Frustration because it's so hard to get visibility today in the marketplace, and promotion takes so much time away from writing, and how do I know if I'm reaching the readers who will love sexy, emotional romances with royals falling in love with the girl (or guy) next door? But I'm also filled with joy because I love writing romance and I love connecting with readers who love them too.

Self-publishing gives an author flexibility, but it also can make for soft release days. Right now, I hope to see Her Royal Mistake go live by Friday, August 21st. If everything goes smoothly, it could be earlier. If life throws a curve-ball, it could be later. If you'd like to be notified when Her Royal Mistake releases (and a heads-up to a limited time 99 cent sale on book #1 Her Royal Masquerade) sign-up for my mailing list. You can also like my Facebook page or follow me on Twitter to catch the release notification.


He hadn’t expected her to fit so well. In his arms. Against his body. A woman as hard and unyielding as Birgitte should not have molded so well to him.

She was softer than he thought she would be too. And warm. So warm. This was no Ice Princess in his arms. Again he wondered at the mask she seemed to wear so effortlessly.

The Mezzano Royal String Ensemble played romantic music this evening, perfect for holding a woman close and letting his body brush against hers. Birgitte’s scent was sharp, nothing soft or floral for this princess. Still, Nardo found his face buried in her hair, inhaling the essence of the woman in his arms.

“You’re a good dancer,” she told him.

“You sound surprised.”

She shrugged lazily and followed his steps as they glided across the floor. His hand found her bare back and he stroked her soft, warm skin. The people around them seemed to fade away. It was only him and Birgitte and the music. She sighed against his neck.

“Are you bored now?” The words came out sharper than he intended.

She didn’t lift her head from his shoulder. “No, Nardo. I’m no longer bored.”

“What changed your mind?” he murmured. Her soft hair brushed his cheek and caused something to clench deep inside him.

She leaned back and he found himself drowning in her blue eyes. “About what?”

“Dancing with me.”

“Oh that. You were right. I like to dance.”

But something must have happened after she walked away from him and the two glasses of champagne. “You could have chosen another partner.”

“I realized I didn’t want to dance with anyone else,” she replied smoothly.

“My luck.”

“Yes.” A slight smile lifted her lips but it wasn’t the bright, unguarded one she’d sent him earlier. “Of course, I’m the lucky one to have such a handsome dance partner.”

The words were obviously practiced. Ones she’d no doubt said to hundreds of men while she spent her time haunting clubs and hooking up with her many dance partners. “Of course,” he replied tightly.

What was he doing? The princess intrigued him, but he wasn’t a masochist. He wasn’t interested in being one of her many conquests. What did it matter if they fit together well on the dance floor? Men and women were built that way. It didn’t mean anything. This dance was over. He began to pull away.

“Your sister’s delightful.”

The princess’s comment came out of nowhere and surprised him enough to remain on the dance floor with her. “I’ve never heard her going on about dresses and hair and high heeled shoes before.”

Birgitte’s soft laughter wafted warmly against his cheek. “Well, of course not. Do you think she’d talk to her brother about such things?”

“I suppose not.”

She was silent for a moment, then said, “It was refreshing to talk with someone who had no hidden agenda.”

Nardo didn’t let himself think about how her comment revealed the kind of life she lived, he only focused on the personal dig. “Does that mean you think I have a hidden agenda?”

Her hip pressed against his obvious erection. “Perhaps yours is not so hidden.”

He froze, gripped her shoulders in the middle of the dance floor. The couples around them threw curious glances their way. “I didn’t ask you to dance in order to get you into bed.”

“Of course not.” Her voice was flat, the tone wry.

“I’m attracted to you.” His was voice low, rushed. “But I didn’t ask you to dance to have sex with you.”

“No. You wanted to show me that I wouldn’t be bored.”


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