From, 'A Fairy Tale Romance' the #MWTease

From December Evernight Publishing release, 'A Fairy Tale Romance' 

When delectable Thorn Valmont buys an old palace to renovate on the Mediterranean coast, he never dreams it will cost him his freedom.

Thorn is part of an aristocratic family. He’s a prince and must find his princess to solve a puzzle he inherits from the ancient owners of the Mediterranean palace.

Will he find her in time to stop his loneliness destroying him completely?

#MWTease

     The white walls of the old palace sparkled in the early morning sun, contrasting with the deep green, banks of trees growing up the hillside. Perfume drifted in the gentlest of breezes from the jasmine climbing up the walls. Heavy-headed, pink roses hung from the rambling vines alongside the balconies. The cloudless sky shimmered, a perfect Mediterranean blue.

     At six in the morning it was already a warm day. Thorn Valmont looked out from the balcony of his bedroom window, and took a long drink of his morning coffee. He turned and put the mug down with a click on the yellow painted, lace-metal table in the corner. Summer was his favorite season. The daylight lasted longer and the dawn came quick, making the nights short. He leaned on the balcony rail and stared off toward the ocean.

    The white sandy beach was visible in a strip beside the soft low surf. The sea, palest aqua-blue close to shore, darkened to deep turquoise around twenty yards out. Thorn loved the ocean. That was why he’d bought this place part way up the hillside ten years before. The real estate agent warned him it needed renovation. Little care had been bestowed on the place for many years prior to it coming on the market. The previous owner, a bizarre old recluse, had died and lain in the courtyard for weeks before a mail delivery person found him.

    When the real estate agent showed Thorn around, he realized what ‘renovation’ really meant. The place was a shell. The outer walls of the building sound enough, but next to nothing of the interior remained. The top floor loomed in darkness, only accessible by a beautiful, but broken spiral staircase. Plaster peeled from the walls downstairs, and the amenities, if they could be called that, were at least Victorian, if not Georgian.

    Thorn bought the place. It was only after settlement of the contract, and he was the legal owner, that he received ‘the letter.’

Copyright Elodie Parkes 2014 Evernight Publishing All Rights Reserved

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