Launching today ~ A Paris Fairy Tale by Marie Laval! #contemporary #romance

Thank you so much, Melanie, for welcoming me on your blog on the day my latest contemporary romance, A PARIS FAIRY TALE, is published by Choc Lit.

A Paris Fairy Tale

Blurb for A PARIS FAIRY TALE

Is Paris the city of happily ever afters?

Workaholic art historian Aurora Black doesn’t have time for fairy tales or Prince Charmings, even in the most romantic city in the world. She has recently been hired by a Parisian auction house for a job that could make or break her career. Unfortunately, daredevil journalist Cédric Castel seems intent on disrupting Aurora’s routine.
As Aurora and Cédric embark on a journey across France, they get more than they bargained for as they find themselves battling rogue antiques dealers and personal demons, not to mention a growing attraction to each other.
But with the help of a fairy godmother or two, could they both find their happily ever afters?

Extract

Aurora glanced up, and met the amber gaze of a tall, dark-haired man who stood in front of her, blocking her view of the rest of the room.

He had high, sharp cheekbones, his mouth was set in a cynical smile, but it was his eyes that held her attention. They were the most fascinating colour, warm brandy with flecks of green. Immediately, the names of pigments she would need to paint them flashed into her mind – Burnt Sienna, Raw Umber and Verona Gold Ochre, with a touch of Cobalt Green or Malachite.

‘Castel,’ Nenachko snarled.

The newcomer ignored him and looked at Aurora, holding her captive in his intense, mesmerising scrutiny. ‘I see Nenachko lost no time in securing your services, Mademoiselle Black. I guess he needs people like you to help him plunder the museums and art galleries of Europe.’

Aurora drew in a shocked breath and snapped out of her trance. Straightening her back to make her five foot two appear taller, she pushed her glasses up and gave him the frosty look that caused her colleagues to call her ‘Black Ice’ – those who liked her, that is.

‘It’s Doctor Black, actually,’ she corrected, ‘and I do not help anyone plunder museums, nor do I condone those who do it.’ Never mind the colour of his eyes. Who was this man and how did he dare question her integrity?

He arched his dark eyebrows as if he didn’t believe her and turned to Nenachko again. ‘I hope you’re enjoying the party. There must be plenty of rich people you can swindle here tonight.’

Nenachko’s face flushed harder. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Letting you know that I was back from my trip in the Mediterranean.’

The Russian’s blue eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Ah yes. I heard you were still on a crusade to rescue refugees. What a shame you didn’t drown… By the way, I didn’t see your name on the guest list.’

Castel shrugged. ‘That’s because it’s not.’

‘Then how did you get past security?’

‘I have my ways.’

It was like watching a verbal tennis match, Aurora thought as she glanced from one to the other. The Russian looked like a man it was dangerous to cross, but Castel, whoever he was, didn’t seem to care. Worse, he seemed to enjoy goading him into a dark rage.

Author bio

A Paris Fairy Tale

Originally from Lyon in France, Marie now lives in Lancashire with her family. She works full-time as a modern languages teacher and in her spare time she loves writing romance and dreaming about romantic heroes.

She writes both historical and contemporary romance. Her historical romance The Lion’s Embrace won the Gold Medal at the Global Ebook Awards 2015 (category Historical Romance), and best-selling Little Pink Taxi was her debut romantic comedy novel with Choc Lit.

She is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association and the Society of Authors. Her native France, as well as her passion for history and research, very much influences her writing, and all her novels have what she likes to call ‘a French twist’!

Her latest romantic novel  A PARIS FAIRY TALE is released on July 23rd and is available as a ebook and audiobook on Amazon and various other platforms.

You can find out more about Marie on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/marielavalauthor/)

or Twitter (https://twitter.com/MarieLaval1).

You can also find on Pinterest the many beautiful photos of Paris and illuminated manuscripts which inspired the writing of A Paris Fairy Tale (https://www.pinterest.co.uk/laval0232/)

It Happened in Gastown ~ Opening Scene

Here you have it, ladies and gents. The opening scene to Book Two in the It Happened series – It Happened in Gastown. Somewhat darker than the first in the series, but I promise along with the heavy stuff there will be sweet romance.

Out on routine patrol, Constables Hilary Dunbar and her partner Nik Kalivas drove north on Cambie Street towards the Gastown Steam Clock. As they passed the end of Blood Alley, she shouted, “Back up. Something’s down there.”

It Happened in Gastown
Steam Clock on Water Street, Gastown, Vancouver

“Your imagination getting the better of you again?” He teased, but pulled over to the curb and slowly reversed until they blocked the mouth of the narrow passage. Originally the lane was called Trounce Alley. Some maps still referred to the laneway as that. Others labelled the back street Blood Alley. Given the appearance, Hilary thought the latter was more appropriate.

Gastown
Blood Alley at Cambie Street, Gastown, Vancouver

Window down, she trained the beam from the powerful spotlight mounted on the cruiser’s mirror into the alleyway. “See, beyond those dumpsters.”

“Likely just garbage.”

“Wait here; I’m going to take a closer look.”

Before exiting the car, she plucked a pair of nitrile gloves and the naloxone kit from the glove compartment. Once out, she shoved them in the pockets of her trousers. With the fingertips of her right brushing her gun holster and gripping the barrel of the torch in her left, she sidled towards the object. Graffiti tags covered the walls of the buildings as well as the wooden hydro poles. The further into the confined space she crept, the hairs on the nape of her neck bristled beneath the bun in which she styled her black hair. Whatever was down there, it wasn’t rubbish as Nik said. The pong of stale urine made her eyes water.

Past the second dumpster, the body of a young man leaned against the wall. Dishevelled and filthy, his body odour was strong enough to make the foulest of skunk spray seem mild. At first glance, he appeared dead. His skin had a bluish tinge, and weeping sores dotted his face. Dark circles surrounded his eyes. Inching forward, Hilary squatted beside him. A blood-filled syringe protruded from his left arm. Flashlight held under her chin; she donned the synthetic rubber gloves she brought with her and felt his neck for a pulse. The rhythmic pulse beneath her fingertips was barely discernible.

The naloxone. The kit had been made available to officers who wanted it. Nik was against carrying the opioid blocker in the cruiser, but Hilary persuaded him. Now was the time to use it. She took the package out of her other trouser pocket, peeled it open and placed the nozzle in the victim’s left nostril and pressed the plunger.

She keyed the mic on her handset and started to speak. “Constable Dunbar.” As if on cue the nearby Steam Clock began whistling. No sense in trying to outperform the thing. Wait until it finished its proclamation of the top of the hour. Soon relative quiet returned and Hilary tried again. “Constable Dunbar. Badge 8652. I need an ambulance at Blood Alley and Cambie Street. Suspected drug overdose. Have administered four milligrams of Narcan nasal spray. No response as of yet.”

By now, Nik had the cruiser’s roof lights on. Blue, red and white alternating then running from the driver’s side to the passenger’s side of the vehicle.

The wail of the siren grew louder. In minutes, paramedics jumped out and trundled a stretcher and medical equipment to the stricken person.

Hilary stood back, letting them do their jobs. “I gave him Narcan,” she said, handing the spent plastic bottle to one of them.

“He’s alive … just. You found him in time. We’ve bagged the needle so they can run tests on it at the hospital. Figure out what he shot into his veins.”