What’s it about?
Where dreams come true…?
Wendy Clayton stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago. Instead, she has a ‘nice’ life. Nice job. Nice flat. Absolutely no men. Until her life is turned upside-down when her elderly neighbour, Eulalie, passes away and leaves her the Château of Happily Ever Afters!
But there’s a catch: she must share the sprawling French castle with Eulalie’s long-lost nephew, Julian. And no matter how gorgeous he is, or how easily she finds herself falling head over heels, Wendy needs to find a way to get rid of him…
Because surely happily ever afters don’t happen in real life?
Escape to beautiful France this summer with this uplifting romantic comedy. Perfect for fans of Kat French, Caroline Roberts, and Holly Martin.
About Jamie Admans
Jaimie is a 32-year-old English-sounding Welsh girl with an awkward-to-spell name. She lives in South Wales and enjoys writing, gardening, watching horror movies, and drinking tea, although she’s seriously considering marrying her coffee machine. She loves autumn and winter, and singing songs from musicals despite the fact she’s got the voice of a dying hyena. She hates spiders, hot weather, and cheese & onion crisps. She spends far too much time on Twitter and owns too many pairs of boots.
She will never have time to read all the books she wants to read.
She is the author of chick-lit romantic comedies The Chateau of Happily Ever Afters and Kismetology, and she has also written young-adult romantic comedies Afterlife Academy, Not Pretty Enough, and North Pole Reform School.
- French-themed stationery goodie bag
- 1 x Paperchase Paris notebook and pen
- 1 x The Chateau of Happily Ever Afters notebook
- 1 x little Eiffel Tower model
- 1 x Eiffel Tower bookmark
- 1 x The Chateau of Happily Ever Afters magnet
- 1 x Signed postcard
Enter the giveaway HERE
‘Mrs Beauchene also left, er, somewhat of a riddle in her will. She requested that a copy of it be given to both parties.’ He hands me and Nephew-git a sheet of paper each, more words scrawled by Eulalie. ‘Allow me to read it?’ He barrels on ahead without waiting for an answer. I get the impression he wants us out of his office.
The Château of Happily Ever Afters is not just a house, or a home, or a castle.
There is magic in the walls, and there is treasure too.
Treasure at the property just waiting to be found. When you find it, you will be rich enough that you will never have to worry about anything again.
But the château will show treasure to you only when you are ready to see it.
It will only commit to you when you commit to it.
It gives the owners what they need but not what they want. It will give them what they need before they know they need it and what they want before they know they want it.
It is yours to find.
The solicitor is reading aloud from a copy as I read Eulalie’s once-neat handwriting, which had become shaky with age.
‘Treasure?’ Nephew-git sits forward. I can almost see pound signs pinging down behind his blue eyes.
‘She was in her nineties,’ the solicitor says. ‘People tend to drop a few marbles by that age, I wouldn’t pay any attention.’
I glare at him. Eulalie hadn’t lost any marbles. Admittedly, going on about treasure and magical walls from beyond the grave is not quite the most sensible thing she’s ever done, but still. She wasn’t a barmy old bat, she just had a vivid imagination. And maybe it was less imaginary than I thought. If the château is real, and Eulalie’s husband really was a duke, what else is real?
‘Mrs Beauchene also entrusted my firm with the key.’ The solicitor holds up a purple satin bag. ‘Which one of you will take it?’
Fake-nephew springs forward with his palm open. ‘I will.’
Sudden rage overtakes the shock I’ve felt since I came in here. ‘No, you won’t. It’s not yours. Eulalie left it to me, only me, right?’ I say to the solicitor without taking my eyes off the horrible McBeath, who holds my gaze with one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised.
‘Yes, but due to this loophole in French-English law, Mr McBeath has an equal right—’
‘I don’t care.’ I narrow my eyes at Nephew-git. He can only be in his late thirties, but his smart suit makes him look older. His dark hair is smooth with hair product and he looks like he’s trying too hard to look stylish. No one is naturally that polished. ‘She didn’t even know you. It doesn’t matter if there’s any truth in what you say. If this château is what I think it is then it meant the world to her. She loved the place, and she wouldn’t want someone she’d never even met to have it. She chose to leave it to me.’
He fiddles with his navy satin tie. ‘But I have a loophole.’