Are you ready for the May Harlequin Presents releases? Get a taste of one — Anne Mather’s A Wild Surrender — with an excerpt below!

About A Wild Surrender:

Rachel Clairborne is a blonde beauty but, tired of being judged on her appearance, she’s never let a man close. For the moment she’s focused on finding her mother, who abandoned her family for the sultry paradise island of St. Antoine.

But soon St. Antoine works its dark magic on Rachel, too, in the shape of irresistible Matt Brody. For the first time ever, she wants to give herself to a man. But Rachel can only look, not let herself be touched…because Matt clearly knows something about her missing mother.…

Excerpt:

‘This yo’ first trip to St Antoine?’

Rachel dragged her eyes away from the exotic sight of hibiscus growing wild beside the airport buildings to give the taxi driver a slightly dazed look.

‘What? Oh—oh, yes. It’s my first visit to the Caribbean,’ she admitted ruefully. ‘I can hardly believe I’m here.’

And wasn’t that the truth? she conceded silently. A week ago she’d had no intention of taking an unplanned break in these semi-tropical surroundings. But that had been before her father broke the news that her mother had left him. Sara Claiborne had apparently abandoned her home and her husband to fly out to the small island of St Antoine to visit a man she’d known many years ago.

‘Did she say when she was coming back?’

Rachel’s first thought had been a practical one, but her father had been uncharacteristically morose.

‘Don’t you mean if she’s coming back?’ he’d mumbled bitterly. ‘And if she doesn’t I don’t know what I’m going to do.’

Rachel had felt out of her depth. Although she’d always believed her parents’ marriage was rock-solid, occasionally she’d sensed a certain ambivalence in their treatment of each other. On top of which, her mother’s attitude towards her had generally made her feel that it wasn’t her problem. And if that was a little hard to take at times, she’d assumed it was simply a case of their different attitudes towards life.

Still, she had believed that Sara and Ralph Claiborne loved one another, and that, unlike lots of their friends and neighbours, their marriage was unlikely to be torn apart by rows or infidelity.

But what did she know, really? At age thirty she was still unmarried and a virgin, so any judgements she made were hardly the result of experience.

‘So who is this man?’ she’d asked, but her father had been carefully reticent on that point.

‘His name’s Matthew Brody,’ had been all he’d say in response. ‘He’s someone she knew—years ago, as I say.’ He’d paused, before exploding his next bombshell. ‘I want you to go after her, Rachel. I want you to bring her home.’

Rachel had stared at him disbelievingly. ‘Me?’ she’d exclaimed ungrammatically. ‘Why can’t you go after her yourself?’

‘Because I can’t.’ Ralph Claiborne had regarded her from beneath lowered lids. ‘I just can’t do it. Surely you can understand that, Rachel? What would I do if she turned me away?’

The same as me, I suppose, thought Rachel unhappily, but she could see where this was going. Whoever this man was, her father saw him as a threat to their relationship—and how could she refuse to help him when there was evidently so much at stake?

It troubled her that her mother had chosen to meet this man on an island in the Caribbean. But when she’d asked her father about this, he’d explained that Matthew Brody lived on St Antoine. It troubled her, too, that she’d never sensed the distance that must have been growing between her parents for such a potentially devastating situation to develop.

But then, she’d never been particularly close to her mother. They didn’t share the same interests or like the same things. It was different with her father, but perhaps she hadn’t expected as much from him.

Rachel sighed as she remembered the rest of the conversation. Her own pleas that she couldn’t just walk out on her job at the local newspaper had fallen on stony ground.

‘I’ll have a word with Don,’ said her father at once. ‘I’ll explain that Sara needs a break and, as I can’t leave the office right now, I’ve asked you to take my place. He can’t object to you taking a couple of weeks’ unpaid holiday. Not after you’ve kept going when half his staff have been down with flu.’

‘I’ve been lucky,’ Rachel had protested, but it had been no use.

She knew that because Don Graham, the editor at the paper, and her father had gone to school together. Ralph Claiborne considered he was responsible for her getting a job there in the first place. And perhaps he was, although Rachel preferred not to believe it. She had been straight out of college, it was true, but with a good degree in English, and computer skills, she liked to think she’d got the job on her own merits.

Needless to say her father had been as good as his word. The following morning Don Graham had called her into his office and told her that another girl would be taking over her duties in the advertising department from now on.

‘Your father says your mother hasn’t been well all winter,’ he’d said, and Rachel had felt her face burning. ‘I’m giving you a couple of weeks’ compassionate leave. Just don’t make a habit of it, you hear?’

So here she was, over three thousand miles from home, without the faintest notion of how she was going to handle the situation. She was still sure her mother loved her father, but she didn’t know how that love would fare in the face of another attachment. And who was this other attachment—this Matthew Brody? And why did Rachel feel such a sense of foreboding at the prospect of seeing her mother again?

‘You here for a holiday?’

The taxi driver was speaking again, and Rachel knew he was only trying to be friendly. But, goodness, how could she answer that question when what she felt was that she was on the edge of a precipice with no practical means of getting down?

‘Um—a holiday?’ She licked her dry lips. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

It wasn’t the right answer. She could see that in the dark eyes that met hers in the rearview mirror. The man’s expression was both curious and wary, and she guessed he was wondering what kind of kook he was driving.

To distract herself, she turned her attention back to the view. Beyond the environs of the small inter-island airport, the road was narrow and unpaved. But the sight of the ocean creaming onto almost white sands below the thick grasses that grew on the clifftop was a definite lift to her spirits. Whatever else, she was being given a totally new—totally unexpected—experience, and she should try and get as much out of it as she could.

She’d never even heard of St Antoine before her father mentioned it to her. It was one of a small group of islands off the coast of Jamaica. Near the Caymans, but not part of them. A handful of mountains and reefs and jewel-bright vegetation where, according to her father, the only industries were a little sugar cane and coffee and, of course, tourism.

‘You stayin’ long?’

‘Two weeks.’

At least Rachel could be honest about that. Well, providing her mother didn’t send her packing the minute she saw her. That was always a possibility, and Rachel didn’t know if she had a strong enough motivation to stay on under those circumstances.

Though she could, she reminded herself consideringly. Her father had booked her into St Antoine’s only hotel and there was no reason why she should waste the reservation.

She’d been lucky to get it, and only because someone else had cancelled at the last moment.

‘You keen on water sports, miss?’

The driver was determined to learn more about her, and Rachel pulled a wry face.

‘I like swimming,’ she admitted, not sure what else he was referring to. Unless it was snorkelling. She had tried that once in Spain.

‘Not much else to do on St Antoine,’ he persisted. ‘We got no movie theatres or nightclubs. Not a lot of call for stuff like that.’

‘I would suppose not,’ murmured Rachel, a cynical smile pulling down the corners of her mouth.

Well, he’d lasted a full ten minutes before making an oblique reference to her appearance. She doubted the elderly taxi driver was interested in her, but the fact remained he had already associated her with the kind of nightlife more readily found in Havana or Kingston.

She grimaced. A lifetime—an adult lifetime, anyway—of parrying personal comments and sexual innuendo had taught her to ignore all references to her face and figure. So she was almost six feet tall, blonde, with full breasts and long legs? But what of it? She didn’t like the way she looked or the way men looked at her. Which was probably why she was still single, and likely to remain so for the foreseeable future.

When she was younger, she’d used to worry about her height and her appearance. She’d used to wish she was shorter, smaller, darker. More like her mother. Anything to avoid standing out in a crowd of girls her own age.

But her years at college had convinced her that boys never looked beyond the obvious. She was a blonde, therefore she was a bimbo. With an IQ no bigger than her bust size.

‘Is it far to town?’ she asked, leaning forward, deciding to take advantage of the man’s garrulousness to ask some questions of her own.

‘Not far,’ he replied, swinging out to pass a mule-drawn cart. It was loaded with banana plants that hung precariously over its sides. He beeped his horn and the mule jerked nervously.

‘You stayin’ at the Tamarisk, yeah?’

‘That’s right.’ Rachel was grateful to discuss her destination. ‘It’s just a small hotel, I believe. I suppose it will be busy at this time of the year?’

‘Oh, sure.’ The man nodded expansively, turning the wheel of the car. The little statue of the Madonna that was suspended above his mirror swung in sympathy. ‘Janu’ry, Febru’ry—they’s our busiest months. ‘Course, we do get visitors in summer, but when it’s winter in the UK and the United States, that’s when we get most tourists.’ He paused. ‘Like yourself.’

‘Mmm.’

Rachel absorbed this, but she didn’t comment. She was wondering how she could get around to mentioning Matthew Brody’s name. It was a small island, and a small population. Surely it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that he might have heard of the man?

The road that had been riding along the cliff now swung inland, and Rachel stared at the thickly wooded vegetation covering the land that rose on the right. Trees and shrubs, ferns and bushes, all exploding with colour. Even in the late afternoon, the brilliance of the sunlight was dazzling.

They were nearing the small town of St Antoine, she realised. Outlying dwellings, some of them with a plot of land given over to either cattle or crops, bordered the road, and presently an occasional store boasted signs that read ‘Fresh Sandwiches’ or ‘Home-made Ice-cream’.

Now the road was divided into two lanes by a belt of palm trees. Rachel could see shops and houses with bougainvillea dripping from every roof and balcony. She glimpsed frangipani and oleander behind iron railings, and lots of West Indian faces peering at her as the taxi drove by.

‘Um—I don’t suppose you know a man called Brody?’ she ventured at last, realising she couldn’t afford to waste any more time. They’d be at the hotel soon and any chance would be lost.

‘You mean Jacob Brody?’ The taxi driver didn’t wait for her to correct him before going on. ‘Sure, everyone knows Jacob Brody. Seein’ as how he and his son own most of the island.’

Rachel’s eyes widened. Her father had told her nothing about the Brodys at all. Somehow she’d got the impression that this man—Matthew Brody—was some kind of playboy. That he and her mother must have had an affair.

‘I—’

She’d been about to ask if Matthew Brody was related to Jacob when the taxi turned between wrought-iron gates. Ahead, she could see what she assumed was the Tamarisk Hotel. A two-storeyed stucco-painted structure, with a fountain playing on the forecourt out front.

‘This is it.’

Her driver, a barrel-chested man, with a luxuriant moustache and cornrows, thrust open his door and got out. Then, after swinging the passenger door open for Rachel, he walked round to the rear of the vehicle to haul her suitcase out of the boot.

Rachel followed him and thrust a handful of dollars into his palm. She never knew how much to tip people, but judging by the man’s expression she’d overdone it this time.

Oh, well…

‘You know the Brodys?’ the man asked, evidently associating her generosity with the man he’d spoken of, but Rachel shook her head.

‘No,’ she said, not wanting to get into a discussion. ‘I can manage,’ she added, when he would have carried her suitcase into the hotel. She pulled up the handle on the case to demonstrate, and then towed it after her as she walked away. ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure.’ The driver stuffed the bills into his pocket. ‘Yo’ want anything else while you’re here, yo’ just let Aaron know.’ He nodded towards the hotel. ‘They got my number.’

Rachel doubted she’d take him up on it, but she cast him a polite smile over her shoulder. However, privately she was thinking that she’d have to be more diligent with her cash. She couldn’t afford to go throwing money around, whatever happened here.

Two shallow steps that stretched along the front of the building led up to a wide verandah. Cane chairs and tables sheltered beneath the shadow of an awning, and tall columns were wound about with flowering vines. She entered into a marble-tiled foyer, where more flowers rioted from tubs and urns.

The reception desk was immediately ahead of her, but, glancing up, she saw that the second-floor rooms all opened onto a curving balcony that swept around the upper floor. The ceiling of the reception area was open to an airy atrium, and although there didn’t appear to be a lift a staircase hugged the outer wall.

A pretty West Indian girl was in charge of the reception desk, and as there were few people about at the moment she watched Rachel’s approach with a critical eye. Rachel doubted there was any aspect of her appearance that had gone unnoticed, but she was used to ignoring that kind of attention.

‘Hi, there, welcome to the Tamarisk,’ the girl said, her smile as practised as her manner. ‘You have a reservation, Ms—er—’

‘Claiborne,’ said Rachel pleasantly. ‘Yes, it was just made a few days ago.’ ‘Of course.’

The girl’s voice had the slow, attractive drawl of the islands that Rachel had already noticed at the airport. And while she brought up Rachel’s booking on the computer, Rachel took the time to examine her surroundings more fully.

The hotel was small, it was true, but it was very attractive. Not least because of the white stone pillars that supported the balcony, and the airy brightness of its public rooms. There was a pleasant scent of spices and sweetness. The air outside had been close and humid, but here the layout of the foyer allowed a cross breeze that cooled her skin.

The Santina Crown series is the latest continuity coming from Harlequin Presents, launching with the release of book one, Penny Jordan’s The Price of Royal Duty. Plus, you can also download a FREE ebook novella, The Life She Left Behind, by Maisey Yates (but hurry, it’s only free for a limited time!).

The Santina Crown series centers around the surprising engagement of a prince, which throws together royals and the rich and famous with scorching, scandalous results. When Crown Prince Alessandro of Santina proposes to paparazzi favorite Allegra Jackson it promises to be the social event of the decade—outrageous headlines guaranteed!

The rest of the series includes:

• THE SHEIKH’S HEIR by Sharon Kendrick (June 2012)
• SANTINA’S SCANDALOUS PRINCESS by Kate Hewitt (July 2012)
• THE MAN BEHIND THE SCARS by Caitlin Crews (August 2012)
• DEFYING THE PRINCE by Sarah Morgan (September 2012)
• PRINCESS FROM THE SHADOWS by Maisey Yates (October 2012)
• THE GIRL NOBODY WANTED by Lynn Raye Harris (November 2012)
• PLAYING THE ROYAL GAME by Carol Marinelli (December 2012)

We’re sure you’re going to love The Santina Crown…so sure, that we have 5 copies of The Price of Royal Duty to give away!

Giveaway details: Do you like romances about royals? Tell is in the comments for a chance to win! Open to US and Canada residents only. Contest closes on Thursday, May 3 at 11:59pm EST. Winner will be chosen by random number generation and announced on May 4. For full official rules, click here.

UPDATE: Since the blog was down over the weekend due to technical difficulties, we have extended the giveaway period until May 3!

About The Price of Royal Duty:

Santina’s rebellious princess Sophia made a shock exit from her brother’s engagement party last night following the surprise announcement of her own arranged marriage. It seems Sophia did not favor the match…instead boldly stowing away on the magnificent Maharaja of Naipur’s private jet!

Staff insiders to the charismatic maharaja, Ashok Achari, aren’t denying the pair spent a wild night together before being caught on film on arrival in Mumbai.…

Scandal is the last thing the Santina royals need right now—might this maharaja be persuaded into taking Santina’s runaway princess as his wife?

To learn more about The Price of Royal Duty, you can also read this Q&A with Penny Jordan, which was completed prior to her passing in 2011.

The Ex Factor was the third book I wrote for Harlequin Mills and Boon and released in the UK back in 2007.  Then surprise!  I was excited to see it coming out in the US this month.

In my second book, One Night before Marriage in the UK/Marriage at the Millionaire’s Command in the US, we met Carissa’s step-sister, Melanie Sawyer.  For me, Melanie was a colourful character who wouldn’t go away even when I’d given Carissa and Ben their happy ending.  She stayed in my head and I knew I’d get no peace until I’d let her tell her story.

I gave her an ex lover, a couple of long-held painful secrets, and a forced hideaway in the Blue Mountains to get them talking — and falling for each other — again.

Here are a couple of snippets from that first reunion scene:

The man in her bed had a body built for giving pleasure, chiselled and polished to sinful perfection.

Melanie Sawyer hadn’t sinned, perfect or otherwise, in far too long.

So she absorbed the gilded sheen of his skin in the early morning light, traced the wide plane of his back and the long furrow of his spine with hungry eyes.  And down, to where the curve of a taut backside disappeared beneath her fluffy pink and tangerine throwover.

Her lips tingled and her fingers itched to explore the textures of skin and hair.  But she only watched, entranced, not moving in case she woke him and spoiled the moment.

He murmured something in his sleep and rubbed his cheek against her pillow, the rasp of stubble sharp against crisp cotton.  Her breath caught at the intimacy of his naked flesh sliding over her linen.  He faced away from her so she couldn’t see his features, but his dark hair was thick and tousled and utterly touchable.

A shame he wasn’t awake.

A shame she wasn’t in bed with him…

…A low rough-throated rumble from across the room rolled through her senses, drawing her attention back to her bed and its current occupant.  With unapologetic interest — and yeah, anticipation — she leaned against the door-jamb and watched him come to.  Watched the sinewy forearms twist as his long fingers bunched and flexed around her pillow.  Then he stretched, a lethargic shift and tensing of bone and muscle and golden skin, and rolled onto his back.

Everything inside her froze and fractured.

Luke Delaney.

Seems Mel’s flat mate, Adam, had let his guy friend have her room while she was interstate for a conference.  Adam’s mate.  Her ex.  And he’s an ex for a reason.  For a bunch of reasons — these two at opposite ends of the spectrum.

So I’m wondering – do opposites really attract?  Can two people with so many points of difference make a relationship work?  Of course they can – in a romance novel.

But how about you in the real world; how different are you to the love of your life, and what keeps you together?  Share your real life success stories.

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Penny Jordan has become synonymous with Harlequin Presents – much loved for her gorgeous alpha male heroes, heroines with vulnerabilities like our own and most of all that very distinctive writing style: dramatic, intense, emotionally powerful – and infused with passion!

This month Penny launches the new Presents continuity The Santina Crown with The Price of Royal Duty, her penultimate book, packed full of all the drama, emotion and red-hot desire that readers loved about her books.

We hope you enjoy!

The Editors

Penny Halsall – 24th November 1946 – 31st December 2011

Note from Amy: Before Penny passed away, she completed this Q&A about The Santina Crown series. Keep reading for an excerpt from The Price of Royal Duty.

* * *

Who is more scandalous – the Jacksons or the Santinas?

Definitely the Jacksons

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the sexiest hero of them all?

My hero Ash of course, so brooding and damaged – so sexy when he reverts to his original potential as a true Harlequin hero.

What secret would make the most shocking tabloid headlines about Ash and Sophia?

That as a girl for a handful of mad moments – Sophia was so desperately in love with Ash that she contemplated seducing him and getting pregnant so that he would have to marry her.  However her love for him even at such a young age told her that to do that would mean that Ash would be blamed and she didn’t want that – her love for him was stronger than her desire to have what she wanted.

Where does Ash take Sophia for their one year anniversary?

A private island in the Indian Ocean – where they can look after themselves and simply be Sophia and Ash and where he can sow her in all the ways there are how much he loves her.

We’d love to hear about your writing process, can you talk us through your daily routine?

I’m at my desk for 8/9 reviewing the previous day’s work – checking that it makes sense, reading the  notes I’d left for myself telling me where to take the story next, then it is in to the best bit of my day – working alongside my characters to tell their story – break at lunch time for a dip into my fav magazines including Scandal! And gleaming info from that that will bring my characters even more to life for our readers (although I never ever use real characters – I prefer creating my own).

What do you think makes a good hero and heroine?

That all important spark of ‘something’ especially if they are both fighting against it.

Did you have a favourite character in your story The Price of Royal Duty?

My heroine I just love her.

What is it that you love most about writing your stories?

Helping my characters to find their happy ending.

We know it’s tricky, but what is your favourite book of all time?

I haven’t got one. There are so many books I love, but I do remember how I was swept into my first ever children’s library edition of Pride and Prejudice as a pre-teenager and how much I wanted to be part of that story.

An Excerpt from The Price of Royal Duty:

‘My father wants to marry me to off to some Spanish prince he’s found.’

What was that sensation that uncurled inside him and attacked with the deadly speed of a poisonous snake, causing his heart to lurch inside his chest? Nothing. Nothing at all.

‘So your father wishes to arrange a dynastic and diplomatic marriage for you.’

Ash shrugged dismissively, but Sophia stopped him. ‘It would be a forced marriage, and I would be the one forced into it.’

Her words might have been those of the passionate, emotional, sensitive young girl he remembered. How fierce she had been then in her defence of people’s personal freedoms, her conviction that everyone had the right to dictate the pathway of their own lives. It was no real wonder given how often she and her father had clashed, as they were obviously doing now.

‘Don’t you think you’re being a tad dramatic?’ he asked her in a wry voice. ‘You aren’t a naive girl any more, Sophia. Royalty marries royalty, that is the way of our kind. Marriages are arranged, heirs conceived and born, and that is how we fulfil our duty to our forebears and our people.’

This was not how she had imagined he would react when she had lain sleepless at night, longing for his arrival, aching for his help, needing his support.

‘I’m not being dramatic,’ she defended herself. ‘Surely I should have some rights as a person, a human being, some say in my own fate, instead of having my future decided for me by my father?’

‘I’m sure he only has your best interests at heart.’

Ash just did not want to get involved in this. Why should he? He was a busy man about to enter the final negotiations on a contract, the success of which would secure the future of his people for generations to come.

‘No. No,’ she denied immediately. ‘He doesn’t have my best interests at heart. All he is interested in is securing a royal marriage for a daughter of the house of Santina. He told me that himself when I begged him to reconsider, that he had had to promise this Spanish prince that I would be an obedient and dutiful wife, a wife who would not try to interfere in his own preferred lifestyle of bed hopping amongst his many mistresses.

‘When I told him that I didn’t want to marry this prince, he said that I was ungrateful and ignoring my royal duty. He said that I would grow accustomed to my husband. Accustomed. To endure marriage to a man who has simply agreed to marry me because he wants an heir, and to whom my father has virtually auctioned me off in exchange for a royal alliance. How could that ever be having my best interests at heart?’

‘I should have thought such a marriage would suit you, Sophia. After all, it’s well documented that your own chosen lifestyle involves something very similar, when it comes to bed hopping.’

A body blow indeed and one that drove the blood from Sophia’s face and doubled the pain in her heart. It shouldn’t matter what Ash thought of her. That was not part of her plan.

But still his denunciation of her hurt and it wasn’t one she could defend herself against. Not without telling him far more than she wanted him to know.

‘Then you thought wrong,’ was all she could permit herself to say. ‘That is not the kind of marriage I want. I can’t bear the thought of this marriage.’ Her panic and fear was there in her voice; even she could hear it herself, so how much more obvious must it be to Ash?

She must try to stay calm. Not even to Ash could she truly explain the distaste, the loathing, the fear, she had of being forced by law to give herself in a marriage bed in the most intimate way possible when… No, that was one secret that she must keep no matter what, just as she had already kept it for so long.

Not even to Ash? Definitely not to Ash.

Now she was letting her emotions get muddled instead of focusing on the practicalities of her situation.

Steadying her breathing she told Ash as calmly as she could, ‘When I marry I want to know and respect my husband and our marriage. I want to love him and be loved by him. I want us to bring our children up in the safe secure circle of that love.’ That, after all, was the truth.

And it was a truth that Ash heard and couldn’t refute. He frowned. Against his will he was forced to acknowledge that there was something in her voice that touched old nerves, revived old memories. Revived them?

Since when had they really needed reviving?

He had never forgotten, could never forget.

‘Please, Ash, I’m begging you for your help.’

* * *

Available in May 2012 from Harlequin Presents®. Copyright © 2012 by Penny Jordan

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Harlequin Presents Extra is getting a bit of an update in May. While a lot of the design remains the same, the diamond-shaped graphic with image of jewellery is being updated with a new “Extra” flash in the corner.

Here’s an example of the old design:

And the new look:

So what do you think of tweaked design?

Romantic Times Magazine’s convention wrapped up last weekend — including the announcement of the 2011 RT Reviewers’ Choice Award Winners!

For the Harlequin Presents category, Sandra Marton took home the prize for her novel The Real Rio D’Aquila.

The Harlequin Presents Extra category was won by Annie West for Protected by the Prince.

Congratulations Sandra and Annie!

It’s hard to believe it’s almost a year since Wills & Kate tied the knot!  The royal wedding of Prince William and Catherine Middleton on 29^th April 2011 wasn’t just THE wedding of the year but the event of the year!  The Harlequin UK editors enjoyed the benefits of a national holiday and celebrated with street parties, bake offs and a few (too many) glasses of bubbly!

Wills & Kate’s love story captured the world’s imagination, the (relatively) ordinary girl marrying her prince in a true love match, is the stuff of fairy tales – and Harlequin romances!  Royalty and Presents is a match made in heaven – powerful heroes, convenient marriages, luxury and opulence – it’s a theme that remains as popular as ever.  Clearly there’s something about a royal…

Majestic Mediterranean principalities and delectable desert kingdoms, irresistible Italian princes and sexy Sultans, meticulous duty and uncontrollable desire is royalty as traditionally decreed by Presents – but with young love currently at the helm, what’s the future of royalty?

With the Duchess of Cambridge dominating the headlines it’s thrust royal women into the spotlight.  But princesses, particularly those that are unhappy about their situation, can be tricky to motivate – really with all that privilege, wealth and eligible suitors what’s there to be unhappy about?  So what goes on beneath the weight of the tiara that the average person could never imagine…?

Since saying ‘I do’, Kate seems to have flourished in her new role – paving the way for strong royal women who love their job – queens and princess who are more than  match for their male royal counterparts!

The new media-darling royal is as much a hit with the press as other celebrities and brings the ‘royal’ to tabloid royalty!  The new Presents continuity The Santina Crown: royalty has been this scandalous! begins next month and embraces the theme of tabloid royalty when a traditional royal family marry into the Presents equivalent of the Beckhams!  Look out for more blogging about this soon!

Wills might be off the market, but ladies you can still marry Harry!  The heir to the throne might hold the power but the spare has all the fun! Is it the stoic firstborn, for whom duty wars with desire, that makes your hear race?  Or the playboy second son, who scorns duty and embraces desire, that makes you weak at the knees?

Finally, with a year of marriage under Wills & Kate’s jewel encrusted belts – surely it can’t be long before a royal baby is on the way?  What could be more Presents than the drama and excitement of an heir?!

What is it about a royal that’s so popular? Can you empathise with a princess who’s struggling with her duty?  The heir or the spare – who would you choose?

I love writing reunion stories – especially seeing how the characters have grown and changed since the first time round, and how they learn to deal with the original problems that pulled them apart.

In The Ex Who Hired Her, Jordan and Alexandra have completely different (and opposite) beliefs about what happened in their past. I gave them both quite a hard time – and I made their first meeting in the ‘here and now’ a shock to them, too.

But they learn to work together, and their good working relationship gives them the confidence to talk and sort out the past, too.

And when Jordan realises that he wants Alex back in his life permanently, he whisks her off somewhere very romantic as a surprise. Somewhere that has no bad memories for them – somewhere that he knows is top of her travel wish list. And somewhere they can make new memories together.

Where?

Well, the front cover of the book gives you a big clue Somewhere I think is the most romantic place in the world (and would be more than happy if my husband decided to whisk me back there!).

Being in Venice is like being in a different world – no noisy traffic, just the bells from the churches ringing every so often. And, in April, it’s the perfect weather to wander round in the little narrow streets, getting lost and enjoying all the bridges and the glorious old buildings.

I have to admit, I stole a lot of our own trip to Venice for that part of the book. The bits that made the place special for me.

The first view of Venice from our water taxi. (I was as overwhelmed as Alex is.)

The way the light reflects from the canals under the bridges.

The strawberries in the Rialto market.

The Rialto bridge itself (seen here from our gondola – oh, yes, we did that, too).

St Mark’s Square, at night – and the little orchestras outside Florian’s and Quadri’s. There’s no way you can resist dancing through St Mark’s Square when they’re playing the most gorgeous music. (And, now we’ve been taking ballroom dancing lessons – ha, guess what the background to my current book is? – we’d be able to dance properly through the square… Yup. We have to go back.)

And the horses in St Mark’s basilica (these are the real ones, not the reproductions you can see outside) – then you can stand on the loggia (balcony) outside and marvel at the view across the lagoon. (Yes, we had a photograph taken there, too – except it was by our youngest rather than by a stranger.)

I loved every second of it (as did my hero and heroine!).

Where would you like to be whisked away for a romantic break?

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Innocent In The Ivory Tower is my debut book for the Presents line and I was a happy camper when I learned the title because it encapsulates my favourite ingredient of romantic fiction, the fairytale.

Probably like most of you I discovered Harlequin Presents in my teens, I think one weekend I read half a dozen of the brilliant Carole Mortimer’s books in a row, gorging on flaxen haired, violet eyed heroines who trembled in the masterful, significantly older alpha hero’s arms.  So it’s hardly a surprise that when I came to write my first hero and heroine for Presents, Alexis and Maisy, I delved back into my romance reading roots and did what I could to pay homage to them.

The nanny and the oligarch.  Who said it couldn’t work?

Maisy is locked up in a house (to keep out the press) with her orphaned baby charge and the boy’s godfather, who just happens to be an extremely hot, Russian oligarch comes bursting through the door to rescue the child.  Alexis encounters Maisy in a bath towel, throws her up against the wall and effectively gives her the kiss Sleeping Beauty would have paid good money for.  After that, it’s on.  Maisy’s Beauty versus Alexis’s Beast.

Definitely a fairy tale.

Innocent In the Ivory Tower came about because I entered the 2010 New Voices contest which was probably one of the better decisions I made in life.  I won’t describe it as a fairytale, too much hard work was involved.  But it is an indescribable privilege to see my book alongside authors I’ve read and enjoyed for so many years.

I’m curious as to what other romance readers think about how much the older forms of fairytale inform the traditional Presents tropes (secret baby/forced marriage/blackmail–all of which I enjoy enormously).  For me, the locked room of the heart, a hero/heroine with a splinter in their souls, the heroine who gets to go to the ball under false pretences engage me–but that’s a personal taste.  What are some of your favourite fairytale scenarios instead of tropes in Presents stories?

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It’s that classic question – the one that every author gets used to being asked as soon as some one finds out that she writes for a living. There’s always one thing they want to know. And that is:

Where do you get your ideas from?

Most of the time, I  answer this with something vague and general  – Life is full of ideas, I say. Or I read the papers, magazines. Mostly I just say ‘I have a very vivid imagination.’

But sometimes I know exactly  what sparks off a  story , the inspiration behind it, and maybe even an image that will start me thinking. It was like this with The Devil and Miss Jones. I was looking through a magazine and I found a fashion story that was full of dresses for special occasions – the magazine was the Christmas  edition so it was full of clothes to wear to the holiday parties. There was one particular image that caught my imagination.

It was of a couple on a motorbike, roaring away down a deserted road, in a wintery landscape.  The male model – dressed in a Santa  Claus outfit  was driving the bike, his head turned away from the camera, and the girl was riding pillion in a long white dress that swirled in the wind as they went. She was also waving a beautiful, sparkling tiara in the air as if she was about to throw it away.

I tore that picture out of the magazine  and kept it, knowing that one day there would be a story to fit it. But bits of it just didn’t work – an alpha Presents hero in a Santa suit?  The ball gown wasn’t quite right either.  But eventually I saw that it was the mood of the picture that I wanted – the  rather wild, reckless tone of the image – the fact that they were dashing away from something rather than heading somewhere in particular. And that long white dress looked more like a bridal outfit the more I looked at it.

So what  were these characters leaving behind? Why were they – a mixed and incongruous  couple – even together?  I couldn’t see the man/my hero’s face,  so what was he hiding from?  Why was the girl looking so happy – so relieved to be getting away from whatever was behind her? And why was she about to throw that beautiful tiara away in a wild, determined gesture of freedom?

And then came the moment that was pure inspiration, the title that came from nowhere. The Devil and Miss Jones. No, I can’t say how I thought that one up – it just came to me. But as soon as it did I connected it up with the picture.  And when I added that into the mixture, I knew I had my story. So that title, The Devil and Miss Jones was my own working title for this story, the one that gave me the right mood and atmosphere for the book.  When I sent in this novel I decided to share with my editor the title that had kept me on the storyline I had planned – The Devil and Miss Jones – and luckily for me she loved it and wanted to use it when the book was officially published.  And it’s been attracting attention ever since.  Everyone seems to want to know where that title came from – and that’s the bit I don’t really know!

One of the reasons why I called this book The Devil and Miss Jones is because those are the names my hero and heroine give each other when they first meet. They don’t use their real names but these aliases, names they are hiding behind, each for their own very personal reasons.  Both are at as crossroads in their lives. Neither of them really know who they are right now – and where they go from here. They know what they are leaving behind – the unhappiness and the memories they want to get away from but they’re not ready to admit those to anyone.  And neither of them is prepared to reveal their true self to someone  they  have only just met.  Besides,  Diablo/Devil  and Miss Jones are the people they used to be – the people they are leaving behind and the person that will change so very much as a result of meeting the other one.

So The Devil and Miss Jones is how they introduce themselves – and the Devil and Miss Jones – and who they become – is the theme of the story.  So I hope you can see why I was so thrilled to be able to use this title for the published book.

So  I was wondering – what sort of titles will intrigue you? What makes you want to pick up a  book and learn more about it? What have been some of the best titles you’ve  ever seen for a novel – or do you have a favourite title of all time. (I have to admit to  loving quite a few – Wuthering Heights, Game of Kings, The Moonspinners…)

Tell me about the titles that pull you in and make you want to read the book. Everyone who posts a comment will be entered into the draw for my prize giveaway.  I have a copy of The Devil and Miss Jones to give away to one lucky poster. My cat – Charlie the Maine  Coon – will pick the winner.

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