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Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Check Out a Great Read - One Royal Summer


First, I’d like to thank Beverly for having me today! I appreciate the time to blog with your readers.

Second, I’ve decided to post about where my writing ideas come from. I get asked that question a lot and it’s not really a big mystery.  At times, something as simple as a name or possible book title can trigger the base idea for a new book.  My contemporary royal series, Royals of Countavia, was born from the name: Weeping Willow.  I once lived in a house that had a beautiful weeping willow tree in the backyard and I always wanted to include it in a book.  However, this time, the tree name led to the first line of ONE ROYAL SUMMER but it was dealing with a fictional newspaper headline mocking my heroine, an anti-monarchist who loses a campaign to depose the King of Countavia.

The line that led to a paragraph, that started a series:

WEEPING WILLOW WALLOWS WITHOUT WIN
Willow Forbes cringed at the headline as the finalization of last night's political loss sank in. She had failed to depose the king. What was she thinking believing a twenty-eight-year-old commoner could take on the long-established monarchy of Countavia? The kingdom was one of the oldest in all of Europe.

From there my Weeping Willow turned into a heroine who found herself in a few awkward, sometimes even comical, scenarios with the hunky H.R.H. Prince Jaxon Baine, Duke of Summerton. And of course a dangerous past had to worm its way into my book. I just love romances that mix it up with a bit of suspense.

So, my ideas can come from anywhere – a name, a title, a single sentence or even just a desire to write a book about a specific something. And those ideas strike at any time. This is why I ALWAYS carry pen and paper with me. I have files of scrap notes :)  I never know when one of those ideas can turn into a book.

We all have a creative spark within us, and it doesn’t have to be writing-related. What spark leads to your creativity?
Thanks for letting me share!

ONE ROYAL SUMMER

By J.C. Makk

ISBN: 978-1-942346-01-2

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/One-Royal-Summer-Royals-Countavia-ebook/dp/B01C3Q1K7U
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/One-Royal-Summer-Royals-Countavia-ebook/dp/B01C3Q1K7U
Amazon AU:  https://www.amazon.com.au/One-Royal-Summer-Royals-Countavia-ebook/dp/B01C3Q1K7U
BN:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-royal-summer-jc-makk/1123469500?ean=2940157971311
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/one-royal-summer
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/one-royal-summer/id1088160954?

All princes are toads...
Anti-monarchist Willow Forbes is determined to revise her strategy after failing to depose the king responsible for her father's death. But when she retreats to a seaside cottage and mistakes the dashing Jaxon Baine for the local handyman, the sexy royal puts a serious kink in Willow's political and personal plans.

Until you kiss the right one...

Jaxon Baine, Duke of Summerton, has spent a grueling political term fighting to preserve the monarchy. Now he's looking forward to a peaceful season at Summerton Castle, the one place his painful past can be forgotten. But when the castle's cottage is rented to the beguiling Willow Forbes—Royal Enemy Number One—Jaxon's summer heats up.

Can two hearts from opposite sides of life find love?
Or will the dangers and secrets of the past destroy them both?

Excerpt:

Willow headed toward the library. As she passed a hardware store, the scent of sandalwood mixed with sage surprised her nose.

It couldn’t be.
She stopped and turned to peer into the store’s front window. Her hat squashed against the surface, and the rim of her sunglasses pressed, almost to the point of pain, into the bridge of her nose. But she didn’t have a choice in her actions.
At the counter, just beyond the door, stood her nameless hunk.

Her heart pounded.
He held a can of paint in front of him, its thin metal handle secured in his large, strong hand. Something the store clerk said made him laugh. His sexy, very manly, very kissable lips, edged upward, revealed his brilliant white teeth.

The man seemed so at home, so relaxed. He was nothing like the tightly wound politicians she worked with on a daily basis. Mr. Sandalwood was your average Joe who did not bear the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders. With him, she could forgo the state dinners, the fundraisers, and the king’s garden parties.
Her gaze lingered at the window.

He reminded her of those alabaster statues in museums, the ones with the lean, muscled abs, the carved from stone high cheeks, and the well-endowed privates that no fig leaf ever managed to properly conceal.
There were plenty of trees with plenty of leaves on the grounds at Copely Cottage. What she would give to measure up just one of them against her sexy handyman’s crotch. It would have to be the largest leaf, of course, if judging a man by the size of his hands with their long, strong fingers, held truth. 

Her pulse raced.
The man paid cash for his paint and then turned toward the door. The last guy she dated who hadn’t used a credit card to pay for a purchase was her high-school prom date. Her current peers were kings of plastic.

He was coming her way.
Her cheeks warmed.

Her feet refused to budge.

She wanted to bolt.
Really she did.

Her eyes continued to ogle.
Oh. My. God. She swore she was drooling.

Still her feet refused to move.
Damn wedges.  If she had worn flats, she was certain, she would have hightailed it to the library ten minutes ago. Yes, Wills. That’s it. She was standing in the middle of a quaint little town, glued to a hardware shop window, trying to decide if a large leaf would or would not cover a strange man’s privates, all because she chose to wear wedges over flats.
The hunk stepped onto the sidewalk.

Willow looked down. Tugging her hat’s brim over her covered eyes she begged the powers that be to let her go unnoticed.
“Miss Forbes?”

The gods obviously hadn’t forgotten how she never liked reading their myths back in school. She turned around. “Oh, hello.”
“What brings you to town?” Mr. Sandalwood asked.

Her eyes drifted to his crotch. “Um...the library.” He would definitely take a large leaf.

The man stooped, came into her shadowed view under her ridiculously large hat. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” Make that an extra-large leaf.  Extra, extra large.

“The library is two buildings down,” he said.
“I know.”

“And you were gazing through the window of a hardware store because...?”
Saying she was sizing up his crotch, somehow did not sound right. “Window shopping.”

“I see.” He straightened, returned to his full height of at least six-foot-two.  The man towered over her, despite her not being short. “Has something else malfunctioned at the cottage?”

“No.” She shook her head.
“Funny thing, when my sister talks about shopping, she never mentions browsing a hardware store. Is it a new trend?”

He was toying with her. And apparently enjoyed doing so. She crossed her arms over her chest.
Hunk’s gaze fell to her breasts. “You changed your top.”

“I did.” Oh, great, now she had him thinking of her bare boobs. That incident was going to be as bad as the photo of her with those damn tears rolling down her cheeks. It was going to stay with her forever.
He lifted his mirrored sunglasses and stared at her with those gorgeous gray eyes. “I have a few minutes before I have to get back to the castle. Let me show you to the library.”
“I have a map.”
“And still you ended up at the hardware store.”

He dropped his sunglasses back down over his eyes. “Come.” He offered her his arm, moving the paint can to his other hand.

She turned halfway around and accepted, slipping her fingers into the crook by his elbow. His arm was solid, pure muscle.

The scent of his cologne enveloped her now, stirred her nose but didn’t clog her sinuses like Sefton’s cheap aftershave.
“Are you looking for something specific in the library?”

“I am. I was hoping to view the archives and scan some micro film of newspaper clippings.”
“I see. Summerton Castle has an extensive collection of past news articles. If you can’t find what you’re looking for in the library, let me know and I’ll arrange for you to have access to the castle’s collection.”
She could get used to a man like this.

Author Bio:
National bestselling author Angelique Armae/J. C. Makk is a native New Yorker who loves all things royal, can trace her Irish roots back to the Scottish Highlands, is half Italian, and is owned by a long-haired Tuxedo feline. She spends most days writing, unless her cat deems otherwise.
Ms. Armae is represented by Holly Root of the Waxman Leavell Literary Agency
Website:  http://www.jcmakk.com

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bSGTPD

The Royals of Countavia series:
ONE ROYAL SUMMER (Book 1)
HIS ROYAL REDEMPTION (A standalone novella featured in Royals and Rogues)
HER ROYAL BODYGUARD (Book 2, Coming June, 2016)

4 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Thanks for visiting the blog, Melissa!

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  2. What a fun excerpt and love the cover. Congratulations!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Vicki. I loved writing this story.

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