Release Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway:
Jersey Royal
By C F White
Flying into Love, Book 5
Can a humble farmer bag himself a true Jersey royal to save his farm…and steal his heart?
Distant royal, Nicholas Osbourne, has one last chance to prove his worth to his wealthy family. A string of bad press over even worse relationships has him agreeing to star in a reality television series getting down and dirty with the ordinary folk. He can live a lie for a week. He’s been doing it for years.
Jersey potato farmer, Alex Hamon, has no time nor patience to babysit a pretentious television crew, nor a work-shy, bratty rich-kid. But the hefty fee and potential promotional opportunities for his farm are too tempting to turn down. He just needs to keep his head in the soil, and not on how his under-the-radar gaydar is blinking overtime for the rogue royal.
Nicholas is out of his depth. Distracted by the stunningly sexy farmer’s son, he’s unable to bury his attraction the way he has been back in London. But he’s on camera. Twenty-four-seven. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. His only saving grace is that the farmer’s son is straight…isn’t he?
Jersey Royal (Flying into Love #5) is an opposites attract, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, rich v poor, first time contemporary MM romance featuring an appearances-is-everything royal with a secret and a temperamental potato farmer with a track record for burying things.
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Excerpt
“You won’t get in trouble,” Nicholas’s light voice trickled warm breath onto Alex’s cheeks.
Alex met sincere eyes, reminding him there was a person behind the accident. Behind the persona. Behind the celebrity. He didn’t say anything though. His flaring nostrils as he exhaled his pent-up tension said more than words ever could.
“It’s my fault,” Nicholas continued. “I got on that…whatever it is—"
“Plough.”
“Plough, of my own accord. Feel a bit of a tit for falling off it, to be honest. I mean, I used to row.” Deep-seated embarrassment spread across Nicholas's otherwise delicate features and, for some reason, Alex took pity on him.
Or was it more that Alex was used to shifting the blame?
“Where was your big bodyguard to protect you?” he asked. “I’d blame him for not doing his job.”
Nicholas hissed through gritted teeth as Alex wiped along the searing wound. “Hey,” he warned. “That stings.”
Alex tilted his neck. “Stop being a baby.”
Nicholas closed his eyes, winced, and Alex continued his rough clean of the tiniest of tiny wounds to ever happen on a sodding farm. He wasn’t even sure why he was doing it for him. Yes, he was the first-aider on the farm. Yes, he could clean a wound, do CPR, administer an EpiPen or whatever else was required when injuries and accidents happened on his land. But Nicholas could wipe his own cut. It was barely a scrape.
Something had him playing hero, though.
“Marcus isn’t so much a bodyguard,” Nicholas said. “I’m not that important to have security.”
“Aren’t you royalty?”
“Not really. Very distant. I’m about a billionty in line to the throne. A tonne of much more important people need to die for me to nab the crown. So watch out if I ever host a charity ball when all those people are in one place. Hashtag, knowwhatI’msaying?” Nicholas winked. “But, seriously, I’m sure my head’s too small for that crown. And all those jewels? Imagine the cleaning! It wouldn’t go with any of my outfits either.”
“That’s a lie.”
Nicholas yanked his hand back to stick up his middle finger, then sucked in a fierce breath at having reopened the wound.
Alex snorted, grabbing Nicholas’s wrist. “So who is he then? The big dude following you around? Your boyfriend?”
Nicholas gulped and Alex had to flick his gaze up to meet Nicholas’s horror-filled eyes. Huh. Interesting. The cheeky teasing between them wasn’t just bants.
“No,” he rushed out. “No, no. He’s what I guess one could refer to as my babysitter. Or my mother’s insurance policy.”
Alex furrowed his brow. “Insurance? For what? For this?” He raised Nicholas’s arm, as though allowing the blood to flow back to the heart. He didn’t need to do that. “In case of injury?”
“Not so much. She wouldn’t bat an eyelid if I lost a limb. Leaving early, however, would be me not fulfilling the duties as per my contract and would cost her far more than if I were to return sans arms and legs.”
“She sounds full of heart.”
“She’s full of assets. And I’m one of them. So, speaking of which, I’m pretty sure Tabatha will have some clause that you can’t be sued for anything that happens to me. It’ll be there in whatever you signed—”
“I didn’t sign anything. Not seen a contract.”
“Do you want to? I could ask for a copy to be emailed over. Could DM you one? Probably want to check the numbers Tabatha said are right?”
“No.” What would be the point in that now? His old man had already signed it and Alex wouldn’t be able to make hide nor hair of what it said anyway.
“Tabatha would have ensured that I can be put in the way of danger for the purposes of comedy effect and really great telly.”
Alex threw the now red-blotted wipe into the bin and slid a thumb across the cut, assessing how deep it was and whether it needed more than the pack of plasters he had in the first aid kit. Blood smeared his thumb tip, and he raised an eyebrow. Nicholas’s overwhelming vulnerability struck him again. His naivety. For a man not much younger than himself, early twenties at most, and a man who had enough money to do what the hell he pleased and live a life Alex could only dream of, he came across as exceptionally sheltered and crushingly engineered.
Alex sighed, stupid sympathy getting the better of him when he asked, “Why are you here?”
“Sorry?”
“Why are you letting them do this to you?”
“Do what to me? Make me pick potatoes? You do it.”
“Make a mockery of you for public consumption?”
Nicholas shifted on the table as Alex closed the wound and dabbed it with a cotton wool pad. He then rummaged in the kit for the plasters, ripping them open with his teeth before securing the first one around Nicholas’s pinkie finger. He blew the rubbish onto the desk, heading for the next one, and awaited Nicholas’s reply with curiosity.
“I’m sort of making up for bad press.” Nicholas winced, then yanked his hand away. “Ow. That hurt. You’ve a shocking bedside manner, you know.”
“That’s because I’m better in bed.”
Enter the Giveaway:
To celebrate the release of Jersey Royal, CF is giving away the winner's choice of eBook or Audio of Flying into Love Book 1: French Kiss!
Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for your chance to win!
Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/cc0f2a57766/?
About the Author:
Brought up in a relatively small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do and fail—leave.
She eventually moved West to East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating a life, a home and a family.
After her second son was born with a rare disability, C F White’s life changed and brought pen back to paper having written stories as a child but never the confidence to show them to the world. Now, having embarked on this writing journey, she can’t stop. So strap in, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
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