A gorgeously funny, romantic and seductive modern fairy-tale...
I have never laughed out loud so much in my life...incredibly funny, witty, romantic, swoony...wonderfully charming and deliriously dreamy... ~MammieBabbie Book Club
Absolutely brilliant...original...hilarious...I have to HIGHLY HIGHLY HIGHLY RECOMMEND The Royal Treatment to EVERYONE! ~ Jennifer, The Power of Three Readers Book Blog
Filled with witty and sarcastic humour, along with massive sexual chemistry...The Royal Treatment is the ultimate rom-com. ~ Tara, Bare Naked Words Reviews
For fans of Bridget Jones and The Princess Diaries comes a laugh-out-loud, feel-good comedy with a sizzling side of romance...
Ultra-private, ridiculously handsome Crown Prince Arthur has always gotten by on his charm. But that won't be enough now that the Royal Family is about to be ousted from power once and for all. When Prince Arthur has to rely on the one woman in the kingdom who hates him most, he must learn that earning the love of a nation means first risking his heart.
Twenty-eight-year-old Tessa Sharpe, a.k.a. The Royal Watchdog, hates everything about Prince Arthur. As far as she's concerned, he's an arrogant, lazy leech on the kingdom of Avonia. When he shocks the nation by giving her the keys to the castle, Tessa has no choice but to accept and move in for two months. It's lust at first sight, but there's no way she can give in to her feelings-not if she wants to have a career or a shred of pride left when her time at the palace ends...
Can two natural enemies find their forever in each other's arms, or will they ruin each other to save themselves?
|Product dimensions:||8.90(w) x 5.60(h) x 0.60(d)|
About the Author
Melanie is a member of the Romance Writers of America, as well as the International Women's Writing Guild.
Melanie would love to hear from you! She does her best to respond to all inquiries and emails personally. If you would like her to attend a book club meeting via Skype please contact her to book a date.
Read an Excerpt
The Royal Treatment
By MJ Summers
MacmillanCopyright © 2017 Gretz Corp.
All rights reserved.
A SPECIAL NOTE FROM PRINCE ARTHUR, DUKE OF WELLINGBOURNE
* * *
I hate to tell you this, ladies, but if you've ever watched a Hollywood film — or even worse — a made-for-TV movie about a royal family, you've been served up a steaming plate of horseshit. I know, because I am the Crown Prince of Avonia, but I'm not just speaking for myself. Several of my closest friends are also princes or dukes from various countries around the world. We've discussed it and we all agree — the film and romance book industry has done us all a great disservice by setting up unrealistic expectations of what it means to date and/or marry a member of the Royal Family.
For example, if we met at a party, and you lost your shoe, I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that I will not be going door-to-door trying to return it to you, no matter how beautiful you are. First of all, it's a shoe, so, you can easily slip over to the store for another pair. Second, if you're too stupid to realize you're only wearing one shoe, you and I aren't going to exactly be long term. I might shag you if the opportunity arises, but beyond that, we're done.
If you were previously under the impression that I would chase you down with your sweaty high heel on a pillow, then you may also be under several other falsely held beliefs, such as the following:
That I wake to the sound of birds singing at my windowsill, am fed breakfast in bed by a maid with a little white cap tied to her head (what are those caps for, anyway?), then I lie about in the drawing room reading books all morning whilst my sister, Princess Arabella, plays harp. I spend my afternoons on a hunt with a gaggle of dukes, then dine on eight-course dinners with women in glittery gowns and elbow-length gloves, after which I retire to the library to smoke cigars and drink bourbon with other blue bloods.
Other than the part about having crowns locked away in a vault, servants sidling around all the time (who, by the way, provide enough jump scares to make my life the reboot of Stephen King's IT), and the stretch limos, the movies have it dead wrong.
Here is my typical day: An alarm clock wakes me at precisely six o'clock every morning except Sunday, when I am able to sleep in until seven-thirty (lucky me). I then dress in gym clothes and do a one-hour mixed marital arts training session with my head of security, Ollie, to keep my body in top princely condition. I shower, eat breakfast at the kitchen counter while I am briefed on my itinerary by my senior adviser, Vincent Hendriks, who, most of the time, smells like blue cheese for reasons I do not wish to uncover. I spend the rest of the day either attending incredibly tedious meetings, or visiting ghastly depressing places such as the children's hospital. If I am lucky, I dine alone, downing a few beers to help me forget the sallow faces of those brave, sick kids. If I am not lucky enough to have the evening to myself, I must soldier on with my best Prince Charming smile while dining with visiting dignitaries and their blushing wives.
I'm a bit of a hit with the wives, by the way. The husbands? Not so much.
If the world were run by women, (which it probably should be — I mean, look at how quickly those ladies running Iceland got the country out of bankruptcy a few years back? No pissing around. They quickly threw the bankers in jail and pulled the economy up by its boot straps and BOOM! Back on track) ... anyway, if the world were run by women — in particular the wives with whom I dine — our little kingdom would be the international leader in trade. And I wouldn't be in the middle of the shitstorm that has descended upon me today ...CHAPTER 2
GOOD MEN, PAYPHONES, AND OTHER THINGS THAT NO LONGER EXIST
* * *
"Oh, bugger!" The car speeds off while laughter spills from the open windows.
"You little ... tramps!" I holler, which only makes them laugh harder. I'm only twenty-eight, but to them I'm a dripping wet, middle-aged hag, and my use of the word 'tramps' only confirms it for them. But I will not swear. There are children standing nearby. Oh, I did say bugger, didn't I? Shit.
My new white jeans and favourite suede boots are now soaked and covered in mud. This is literally the third time in two years that I have been the victim of the 'bowling for losers' game that has been held at this spot for, oh, I don't know, forever. There's a dip in the pavement all the way along the front of the bus transfer station, and because the station is backed by an eight-foot brick wall, there's nowhere to hide. After any big rain, teenagers appear out of nowhere to play.
To be honest, it is kind of fun if you're one of the teenagers crammed into the car with your friends. I'm ashamed to say I did it once and it was a bit of a thrill, in a scary, exciting, let's-do-something-really-naughty-that-will-bond-us-forever sort of way. Oh, my God! What if we get caught?
But then, as soon as it was over, I looked back at our victim. She was dressed for a party and even the wrapping paper on the fancy silver box she was holding was dripping wet. We totally killed her day for a few seconds of entertainment. I begged my friends to turn back so we could give her a ride, but, as it turns out, teenagers don't like to have their fun spoiled, and after that, I had a few less friends. But it didn't really matter. I had already grown accustomed to being an outcast long before puberty hit.
I'm currently on the way to my childhood home for yet another dreaded family dinner. Being the only girl of five children, I've always had plenty of reasons that I didn't fit in — lack of penis, lack of testicles, lack of interest in football. Things have only gotten worse over the years instead of better, with my brilliant brothers moving up in the world, while I have recently dropped down a few rungs on the job ladder. These days, my brothers tease me relentlessly about being 'the dullest sharp in the Sharpe family.' Ha. Ha. Ha.
As the bus barrels toward Abbott Lane, I shrink from a relatively confident, reasonably intelligent woman to an awkward, horribly insecure fourteen-year-old. I'll spend the next twenty-three minutes hoping the bus breaks down or is hijacked by terrorists (but only if Keanu Reeves gets on first), then the next several hours wishing I had managed to dream up the perfect excuse to skip this evening's dinner.
In the past two years, I've already used horrible cramps (tried and true, especially if my dad answers the phone), raging fever, raging diarrhea — anything raging is quite effective, really — tight deadline at work (which they don't believe), bus broke down, and bronchitis (which is harder than you think to pull off when you're perfectly healthy). But today I can't bring myself to lie. Today we celebrate what would have been my grandfather's eighty-fifth birthday, and since he was the only person in my family to believe I had any potential at all, I owe it to him to be here.
* * *
I stand on the wet sidewalk staring at my parent's house with the mishmash of dark green-panelled additions jutting out on top of what was once a one-storey brick home. Even though my legs are damp and freezing, I take a moment to drink in the silence before I am bombarded by the chaos and cooking smells that wait for me. A light rain starts, urging me to go in and get it over with already. There are much worse fates than a family dinner. I can't think of what they are at the moment, but I know they exist.
Hoping not to be noticed when I walk through the door, I keep my voice whisper-quiet as I say, "Hi, everyone!"
My mother's head whips out of the kitchen down the narrow hall. Mum has highly-attuned ears. She can manage two conversations at the same time, all while listening for a sleeping baby and making sure the potatoes don't boil over.
"Tessa! There you are! I thought you'd never get here." She dodges my nieces, who are too busy chasing the cat around with a tiara to notice me.
"Poor Mr. Whiskers. Mum, you're not letting them dress him up again." I hand her the wine I brought for 'everyone' (and by everyone, I mean me) and give her a kiss on the cheek.
"He'll let them know if he doesn't want to play dress up." She pulls me in for a hug and the familiar scent of Chanel No. 5 wafts into my nostrils.
A hiss and a yowl says Mum was right about Mr. Whiskers. All three of the girls come screaming back down the hall, then make a right and thunder up the stairs.
Mum looks me up and down. "Splashed at the transfer station again?"
"You should really think about getting a car. They have those electric ones now, so you won't be ruining the earth like the rest of us."
"Yes, you've mentioned that before."
As much as I'd love to cruise around in my own car, I can't exactly afford one, which is a bit of stomach-tightening information that I keep to myself. So instead, I use public transit under the pretense that I have turned into a real environmentalist. While I definitely care about the earth, I also fantasize about one day pulling up in a shiny, sporty little car so that I can roar off when I have had enough 'family time.'
What I'd really like to do is to find some nice, stable, eco-conscious man who will drive me to my parents' house in a hybrid with heated leather seats. I'm sure if I found him, my 'worthiness of respect' rating would triple. But since finding a single, dependable, decent man is as likely as finding a payphone these days, I will forever remain a very single entrepreneur who gets to buy expensive footwear (on sale) without hearing complaints from someone who will later leave up the toilet seat.
Oh, that sounded horribly negative. I know there are good men out there, but they are for other women. Not for me. If there is a lying, cheating sack of crap within a ten-mile radius, I'll find him and fall for him.
My niece, Poppy, is the first of the children to notice me. Her eyes light up and she screams, "Auntie Tessa is here!"
And so begins the onslaught of kids rushing for the packages of Jelly Babies they know I've brought. Poppy runs down the stairs and straight into my arms for a big hug. I squeeze her tightly and give her a sloppy kiss on the cheek, just so I can watch her wipe it off. That always cracks me up. I'm the old spinster aunt, except without the hairs growing out of a mole on my chin — yet. "Oh, I've missed my silly beans niece."
I crouch down and dig around in my coat pocket. "Let's see if I've got anything for you."
She grins expectantly.
"Oh, here it is. One package of Jelly Babies, world's finest candy." I hand her the package.
"Thank you, Auntie!" She gives me another hug, while the lineup of children forms not so neatly behind her.
"You're welcome, peanut," I whisper in her ear. "Don't forget, you're my favourite Poppy in the whole world."
Poppy beams as her little brother, Clarke, cuts in between us.
I go through this routine another six times, then tell the brood of them what I always do. "Save them for after dinner or your mums will be very cross with me."
By the time the words are out of my mouth, they're already gone, presumably to hide and eat the candies. I toss my wool coat onto the teetering pile of jackets on the old wooden bench and head toward the TV room to say hello to my dad and brothers.
When I poke my head into the room, my eyes are immediately assaulted by the pink flashing 'Sheepshagger Beer' sign, which clashes horribly with the red and green plaid couch and love seat. My dad is standing behind the 'bar,' which is really just a TV tray with a twelve pack of beers on it. His gaze is glued to the giant television screen.
"Hi, guys." My voice is drowned out by their cheers.
Football is pretty much their only shared passion. Well, that and beer. Oh, and making fun of me. So, I guess they have a lot in common when I think about it.
Dad notices me out of the corner of his eye and gives me a quick wave and half a grin. "Hey there, Tess ... AAAHHHH!!!"
His head swivels to the screen again, and he looks like he's about to have a stroke because someone almost scored a goal. The football match is a bit of a God-send actually. It means a delay of game in the next round of 'let's pick on Tessa for not having a man, or real job, or a man with a real job.' Now, where did my mum go with that wine?
I find her in the kitchen with my two sisters-in-law, Isa and Nina. They're too engrossed in a heated discussion about the new school uniform policy to bother with me.
"I know!" Nina, who is starting her second trimester, pops an olive in her mouth, then keeps right on talking. "I was told they weren't going to do this again this year, but you know you can't ever trust them. It's a money grab."
"A total money grab." Isa's head is bobbing so fast I'm afraid it might fall right off. Wouldn't be too much of a loss for her. She tends to use it mainly for displaying her hair and makeup skills anyway. Oh, that was bitchy, wasn't it? I wonder if I'm getting PMS?
My mum takes her position in front of the stove, her hands a blur of activity and she stirs, spices, and sautés dinner for sixteen. "So, Tessa, how's the blogging going?" She emphasizes the word blogging so as to prove she's finally remembered the name of my current profession.
"Really well, thanks. Steady increase in subscribers, so, that's always good."
Her face pinches in confusion, and I know what's coming. "I still don't understand how you make money."
"It's, um, ads, mostly. Some of the companies that I review for also pay me a fee for testing their products." I wash my hands and start to slice some pickles that will be served with the stew.
Mum nods. "Right. Companies pay you to advertise on your sites."
We go over this every time, but I don't mind. It means she cares. "Yes, sort of. I get paid for the ads indirectly. They pay Google. Google pays me."
"And you really get enough people reading your blog to pay your bills?"
She must know that I'm exaggerating about how well I'm doing, but in my defense, I only do it because I don't want them to worry. Okay, also because I would die if my brothers found out.
"I do." I make just enough to get by. Real money. Not Bitcoins, which will be her next question.
"Real money or those Bitcoins I keep hearing about?"
"Real money, Mum. It goes in my bank account and everything."
"Good, because Grace next door told me that those Bitcoin people are going bankrupt."
"Oh, really? Well, then, I'm glad I opted for being paid in real money."
The doorbell rings, indicating that Bram has arrived. Unlike me, Bram likes to have everyone's full attention at all times. Something about being born in the middle of a pack of boys that is apparently still affecting him.
"Hello? Where is everybody?" he bellows. "I want you to meet my new girlfriend."
"Another one?" Nina purses her lips at Isa, setting off a wave of head-shaking and eye-rolling as they go in search of Bram's catch of the day.
My mum wipes her hands on a tea towel and bustles in the direction of the front door. I take the opportunity to gulp back the rest of my wine and top up my glass before going to greet his latest squeeze.
* * *
We sit down to eat at exactly six o'clock. The adults squish in at the dining room table, while the kids are at a precariously tippy card table filling the entrance between the TV room and dining room. The television blares in the background so my father won't miss an all-important goal. My mum cracks the window, as within a few minutes, it will be stifling hot in here. She shimmies past the buffet, which proudly displays her Royal Family commemorative plate and mug collection, then is just about to sit down at the head of the table, when she pops back up. "Nearly forgot the fancy napkins!"
"Now, don't fuss, Mum. It's not like we're hosting the King." My dad, who likes to get through dinners almost as fast as I do, says this every time.
Mum waves off his comment as she hurries back into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a pile of thick paper napkins with a spring motif. She's big on theme napkins.
Everyone marvels at how my mother has managed to once again pull together such a fine feast. She pretends she doesn't need the praise, and then the mayhem of dishing up begins. Noah, Isa, and Nina carry plates around the table, loading up food for their children. My brother, Lars, sits on his skinny arse and loads up his own plate before his pregnant wife barks at him to get up and help her. He jumps up as though shocked to find out that four of the children at the kiddie table belong to him.
I'm positioned across from the new girlfriend, Irene, who is exactly what I expected. Young, pretty, big hair and even bigger breasts. Finn, who was hasty to grab the empty chair next to our brother's new girl, glances down her deep V every time he hands her a dish, while Bram, who is on her other side, does the same thing when she hands each dish to him.
Excerpted from The Royal Treatment by MJ Summers. Copyright © 2017 Gretz Corp.. Excerpted by permission of Macmillan.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Easy read, not thought provoking, but fun.
Very funny. Great story. Totally loved it. Can't wait for #2
I loved this book. The characters were really relatable and I really could feel their emotions throughout the book. I couldn't put this book down because I didn't want to wait to see ending of the book. A wonderful love story that I can't wait to read more about!
Tessa is a blogger who wants the royal family gone. Arthur is the crown prince. What happens when these foes meet is funny and heart warming. In a bid to change her mind Arthur invites Tessa to spend two months at the palace so she can observe him at work. What she finds out surprises her. Tessa has a blog follower encouraging her to dig up the dirt on the royals and the prime minister may make her a job offer. What to do when heart and job collide?
I LOVED this book! It kept me laughing & wanting to read more to see what could possibly happen next. I read while working out on my treadmill, and this book had me logging extra miles!
Sweet, Sexy. Compelling Tessa Sharpe (The Royal Watchdog) is a blogger that writes dreadful things about the Royal Family. She shames them because she doesn’t think the country needs a Royal Family. So, she writes about it in her blog. She has a large following and she has the capacity to impact the public’s view of the royal family. Prince Arthur, being under the gun, devises a plan and invites Tessa to the castle to stay for a couple of months. He wants to persuade her and make her understand that having a Royal Family is actually beneficial to the country and necessary. Tessa accepts and the two enemies are now living together in the same palace. What ensues is a hilarious romantic comedy that will keep readers engaged and happily turning the pages. As the story progresses, readers can feel the extreme heat between Tessa and Prince Arthur. The Royal Treatment is unpredictable, with no loose ends. It is a total gem. It is intelligent, unforced, and very plausible. Tessa is clumsy and endearing, Melanie Summers put in just the right amount of wit and magnetism to keep readers engaged and believing the story line. With likable quirky characters that are fully developed, I fell in love with almost all of them. Some were not so likable, keeping the story grounded – and funny. Although it is a fairytale type story it seemed totally realistic and plausible. Tessa is cute, and awkward but also strong and smart. Prince Arthur is so charming that he even charmed my pants off. The character development is superb, while author Melanie Summers rolls out each character as the story line progresses. You get to know and love each of the eccentric adorable characters as the book advances-extremely good writing. The Royal Treatment is fast paced but not rushed. Melanie Summers seemed to have taken her time coming up with and writing this laugh-out-loud romantic comedy. I know they say that “you can’t judge a book by its cover,” but that’s exactly what I did when I saw The Royal Treatment book cover. I loved it and I loved the story within the pages. The storyline flows seamlessly together with no errors or editing issues. The book is light hearted and intelligent while keeping with the LOL rom com genre. There is plenty of drama, fun and romance and a ton of laugh out loud comedy. The Royal Treatment is a quick and easy read with an in depth, well thought out plot. It’s perfect for someone that needs a break from this world and wants to delve into a modern day fairy tale that will keep them laughing and rooting for the main characters throughout the story. I loved The Royal Treatment by Melanie Summers and highly recommends it!
Enjoyed this funny, romantic read.
Reviewed by Grant Leishman for Readers' Favorite A fun frolic down Fantasy Lane is the best way I think I could possibly describe The Royal Treatment by Melanie Summers. This is an out and out funny, chick-lit read with no pretensions of being anything else. Tessa Sharpe, a twenty-eight-year-old former journalist, has adopted the role of Royal Watchdog for the Kingdom of Avonia. Her blogs on the Royal Family and their excesses are grist to the mill of the group of Avonian citizens who consider the royals to be an outdated and unnecessary institution in the twenty-first century. Facing a potential referendum to strip the royals of their powers, Crown Prince Arthur invites Tessa to spend two months at the palace, to live with the royals and to see what it is they really do to help the people of Avonia. What follows is a hilarious romp filled with palace intrigue and, of course, the never-ending question (will they do it?). I have read so many books over the years that focus on the very worst of the human condition, so it is wonderful, from time to time, to come across a story so frivolous and so much fun as The Royal Treatment. There are few books that can make me chuckle, let alone belly laugh, and yet Summers managed to draw that out of me in this fun tale. It is genuinely funny and yet still has something important to say, on a higher level. Obviously Avonia is a mythical kingdom, but the comparisons can well be made to other European countries still supporting a monarchy, even if that monarchy is merely ceremonial. Many of the issues faced by the Avonian monarchy, and indeed the perception of that monarchy to the citizens, can draw a direct parallel to other monarchies, such as the British. I really enjoyed this book and congratulate Summers on a fine effort. The Royal Treatment is a wonderful distraction from a world where there is much too much angst and seriousness.
I am seriously NOT a fan of romance books, however I AM a fan of humorous books. Thankfully, while this one was romance (very cheesy at that), it did have humor. A LOT of humor. I found myself laughing out loud several times while reading this book and smiling quite a lot of the time. In fact, I really enjoyed reading it. It was a definite feel good read. There are a few sex scenes, thankfully, they were short and not that explicit. A great lighthearted comedy that I truly enjoyed and am now going to read the next in the series. I truthfully can't get enough of Tessa and her Prince. Purchased through Amazon as advised by the author so I would not miss anything in the second book in the series.
Loved it funny and fun. A very enjoyable way to spend some time. Can't wait to read the next one.
I thoroughly enjoyed this story. I identified with the missteps of the heroine and found the twists and turns of the story very entertaining. I had a hard time putting it down and can't wait to read the next installment of the story!
AWFUL! It was really stupid -- not "funny" stupid, just waste of time DUMB! Thank goodness it was free!
I really enjoyed reading this book. I liked the switching of perspectives between guy and girl. I also thought the characters were funny, lovable, flawed but no annoying. Will definitely read more from this author.
Loved it - very funny - I am still smiling! I will definitely check out more of this author's work.
This was such a humorous and enjoyable read from the first page. I enjoyed it so much I’m looking to purchase the two that follow!
Such a FUN story. Arthur and Tessa have so much chemistry. Loved it and cant wait for the next one!
I enjoyed the book. Great characters. Can't waitbto readvthe sequel.
Funny and sweet.
Laugh out loud comedy
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Between the laughing and wondering what would happen next, I could not put this book down.
Laugh out loud funny!
Fun and charming!
I actually laughed out loud several times while reading this book. A fun, light read.
This book was absolutely hilarious. I would recommend it to anyone that is looking for a lighthearted read. There is adult language, but when it was used I was in stitches. I am immediately buying book two in this series!