Pages

Showing posts with label Bad to the Throne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bad to the Throne. Show all posts

Friday, August 21, 2015

A Little Sneak Peek of LOVE IS IN THE HEIR

Hi!
In less than a month I'll be releasing book four of my IT'S REIGNING MEN series, LOVE IS IN THE HEIR. So I thought I'd give you a preview. And I'm excited to be well into writing book 5, SHAME OF THRONES (thanks to my husband for that great title!). Hope you enjoy this sample of LOVE IS IN THE HEIR--it's available for pre-order now: Amazon, Apple, Kobo. And pre-order for Shame of Thrones will be available in a few weeks!
Chapter One
Pippa Grimaldi, a decidedly modern Monafortian duchess and all-around life of the party, didn’t normally ogle men. It just wasn’t her style. And she’d certainly never held up any man in the royal family as anything but friend material. That is, until she ran into His Royal Highness Prince Christopher, Duke of Esmeralda—Topher, for short—for the first time in many years.
Pippa and Topher, third in line to the throne of Monaforte, had a history, and not such a great one. Back when he was fourteen, Pippa, best friends with Topher’s brother Zander and a regular at the palace, wandered in on Topher with his pants down, in mid, uh, self-service mode.
Mortified, Pippa burst into a nervous laughter, then hightailed it out of his room to Zander’s room so fast that her friend immediately noticed something was wrong. And once Zander—long the bad boy prince in the family—latched onto what she’d encountered, he never let it go. Poor Topher was dubbed “The Wanker” by his older brother and teased mercilessly by his siblings for years.
Over the years, it was obvious that Topher took great pains to avoid Pippa’s presence, because aside from his continued embarrassment over The Episode, whenever the two of them were together, invariably the whole thing was dredged up yet again, much to his deep chagrin.
And so when Topher encountered Pippa at the reception following the royal wedding of his brother Adrian, he could only hope that royal decorum would trump his siblings’ propensity for jocularity. The last thing he needed while suited up in his regal princely military garb for this shindig was to be reduced to that shamed teenager of years earlier, with a round of guffaws and elbows to the side while the siblings all referenced Topher’s manual dexterity. Sometimes, even his usually sweet sister Isabella got in on the act. And it would only make matters worse if his new sister-in-law Emma joined the fray.
He really just hoped that after being gone for so long, maybe at last the event had been tucked away in the cobwebbed attic of family lore, finally forgotten, laid to merciful rest. It always amazed him that no matter how old you got or how accomplished you became, you were always brought to your knees by some stupid happening in your life you wish you’d never committed. Or at least wished you’d locked the door for.
Of course one thing he always, always, always held close to him about that day was this: the only reason he was in the midst of the deed at that particular moment was that Pippa had showed up at the palace in a particularly skimpy skirt and tight tee that highlighted her burgeoning assets. And what gangly, awkward teenage boy could resist that? As the two-years-younger brother, Topher always had a little bit of a crush on his brother’s friend, but he also never confided this to a soul. And so in deference to her dignity, he realized all the more it needed to remain tucked away in his mind only, as it would merely serve to humiliate Pippa.
But from then on, he forever associated Pippa with his shame from that event, and rarely did he ever dare to entertain thoughts of Pippa as anything but a family friend.
~*~
Topher, his gentle gray eyes and wavy dark hair highlighted by the bright blue royal military uniform he wore, had just finished his drink at the wedding reception when his brother Zander pulled him into a conversation unwittingly.
“Plus,” Zander said to his beautiful blonde, blue-eyed girlfriend Andi, extending his arm as his younger brother came toward them. “Soon this strapping young man will find himself a woman and the paps will latch onto him instead. Even though I am the much better looking brother.” Andi had seemingly pulled off the impossible, taming the womanizing Zander, known for his scampish good looks, with his scruffy dark hair, perpetual five o’clock shadow, and mesmerizing green eyes.
Apparently Andi was fearful of the paparazzi, which had caused her to flee her blossoming romance with Zander, and Zander had only somehow lured her back to Monaforte just in time for the wedding.
Topher looked at him with wide eyes like he was crazy. “Yeah, right. Besides, don’t hold your breath on that,” he said. “The chances of my marrying any time in the next millennium are slim to none.”
“That’s what I said, and look at me now,” Adrian said as he walked up to the group. The oldest of the siblings, Adrian was devastatingly handsome, and on this, his wedding day, his brilliant sapphire eyes were alight with happiness. “Zander, looks like finally your invisible girlfriend here took pity on you?” He nodded toward Andi, who blushed.
Topher was thrilled the conversation was focusing on Zander’s romance, but only then did he notice that Pippa was lurking on the fringe of the conversation. Pippa—looking so damned hot in the halter gown Topher tried desperately not to stare at because it highlighted her breasts and her shapely waist—was the last thing he needed to think of right now. Those thoughts could get him into a lot of trouble. Her hazel eyes seemed to sparkle against the warm melon color of her chiffon gown.
Two times two is four, four times four is sixteen, sixteen times sixteen is two hundred and fifty-six, he repeated in his head, tamping down all potentially damning sexual thoughts involving the woman, including the time he’d seen her naked when she came out of the shower of the palace pool house when she was seventeen. Two times two is four, four times four is sixteen, sixteen times sixteen is two hundred and fifty-six,
Topher could feel the front of his dress blues getting just a little bit snug, and he continued distracting himself with simple mathematical equations until he could extricate himself from present company. He glanced out of the corner of his gray eyes to see that Pippa’s cascading brown curls—which as a teenager looked so sexy on her, tumbling over her shoulders like a riotous waterfall—had been pulled up in a loose chignon, her hair topped with the obligatory tiara that most women of royalty wore to such events. Hers was interlaced with tiny flowers, and soft strands of curls framed her face, which had grown only more beautiful with age. He thought she looked like quite the princess herself, even if she was actually a duchess. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but in the pecking order of royalty, she wasn’t a princess. Even if she looked like the fairytale version of one.
“Don’t worry, Andi,” Pippa said, piping into the conversation. “We all take care of each other here. You won’t be bombarded by anyone trying to get at you. Just a little here and there. Otherwise we cut ‘em off at the knees.” She made a slicing motion across the throat, jokingly.
Topher knew only too well how everyone took care of each other around here, even when it involved totally dicking on your brothers. Slicing across the throat indeed. That might have been easier for him if they had just slit his throat. Lost in thought, he rejoined the conversation as Pippa continued talking.
“I must say, most intriguing of all is little Topher here,” Pippa said, turning to him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since you were a scrawny kid. You’re looking awfully filled out.” She eyed him up and down with a look of hunger on her face.
“Down, boy,” Zander said, tapping on Pippa’s head. “I think Topher is allergic to girls.”
His brother discreetly flipped him the finger.
Awfully filled out?
If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was perhaps a baby wildebeest and Pippa a very hungry leopard about to pounce.
Topher said a mental prayer that this was not the segue he’d been dreading and breathed a sigh of relief when, not a half a minute later, he was saved by the arrival of Adrian’s new bride, Emma, ravishingly beautiful with her chestnut curls loosely pinned up and tucked behind a dazzling tiara. Her hazel eyes were wet with tears of happiness. Thank goodness for all of this wedding nonsense as a distraction.
This time he was spared.
~*~
Pippa tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand. Something to do with Adrian and Emma’s wedding and then something more about Emma’s good friend Caroline and Adrian’s best friend Darcy showing up to the wedding engaged, of all things. Which apparently happened after Darcy’s sister Clementine orchestrated a fabulous fake-out at a party at Pippa’s family estate, which left Darcy thinking Zander was hitting on Caroline. At this very party, Zander then ended up hooking up with Andi, with whom Pippa had worked at a refugee camp in Africa months earlier.
Pippa couldn’t help but wonder why everyone around her seemed to be finding soul mates, while she only seemed to find another excuse to host a party or play cupid with her friends’ relationships. Not that she was looking or anything; she was too busy to really worry about dealing with a boyfriend. But sometimes it seemed like it would be nice to have someone to maybe just go on a date with. Or make out with. Or more. She hadn’t scratched that itch in as long as she could remember. The opportunity didn’t present itself when Pippa was working overseas in various philanthropic capacities, which she did as manager of Zander’s Prince’s Trust foundation.
Her thoughts migrated to Topher, standing several feet from her—though she knew if he’d had his way, there’d be several hundred feet separating the two of them. It had always been that way. Well, not quite always. But certainly since The Episode. Honestly, to this day Pippa could still close her eyes and conjure up the image of Topher in that compromising position. It had always left her feeling conflicted—embarrassed, no doubt, but kind of hot and bothered, too.
She’d never seen such a thing before, and it was the first time she’d ever seen one of those things live and in action. God, she still felt like a rookie in the sex department. She’d had a handful of less-than-compelling relationships in college and since, but nothing that aroused much, well, arousal. Most of the guys she’d dated were kind of boring, often trying to rub shoulders with royalty and rarely interested in Pippa as a person.
She tried to discreetly check out Topher from the corner of her eyes. He looked so damned handsome garbed in full military regalia: the crisp blue uniform, the sheathed sword, the sash, and all the medals. For the first time in forever, she felt her heart almost skip a beat over a guy. But could it be a worse guy? Thanks to Pippa, Topher was pegged with that embarrassing nickname by his brothers and could never live down something that undoubtedly the whole lot of them did daily under that palace roof. Poor Topher had the grave misfortune of being caught red-handed. Literally.
She burst out laughing at her own mental joke, so loudly that everyone in the conversation turned to look at her. She tried to cover up her laughter by pretending to be choking on a sip of champagne. But her eyes met Topher’s and in that brief exchange, they both knew they were each revisiting that moment yet again.
Pippa felt horrible: the poor guy could never live down such an isolated instance in his life. No thanks to her.
 Chapter Two
Topher spent dinner engaged in conversation with some princess from Sweden or Denmark or another very blonde country. She was absolutely stunning: deep blue eyes, natural blonde hair (he assumed), perfect skin, knockout figure. Who could complain? In the days of his ancestors, no doubt he’d have been seated by the woman someone else had deigned it necessary for him to marry to forge a union with another country. Which made him quite happy this was not the culture nowadays. Because while this blonde princess was incredibly hot, she was a bit boring. And her breath smelled. Besides, the last thing he wanted was a) to get married, and b) to be told he had to get married.
He was perfectly happy pursuing an advanced degree in marine biology and traveling to tropical climates in pursuit of that pursuit. What he didn’t need was an anchor in the form of a woman to tie him down. Nope, the type of anchor he preferred got lowered by a chain into sand at the bottom of the ocean, when whatever boat he was sailing in was stopping for the night.
Nothing thrilled him more than being on the water, maybe kicking back with a steak fired up on the tiny grill on the back of the boat, a cold beer in his hand, and Bob Marley blasting on the speakers as the horizon swallowed the last of the day’s sun in a spectacular show of color.
It’s not that he didn’t get into the whole dog and pony show of royalty, it’s just that as third in line to the crown, he didn’t have to bow to it quite so often, and he really did enjoy his freedom.
After dinner, the orchestra resumed playing, and he made a point to avoid his dinner companion before having to take it to the dance floor with her halitosis. But soon everyone was coupled up, and while he stood discreetly to the side, trying to not be seen and making small talk with people he really couldn’t have cared less to talk to, he noticed Pippa stood, not far away, perhaps also avoiding being seen. But she had a little bit of a sad look in her eyes, and it made his heart ache just a touch. Enough so he decided to approach her.
“You’re looking somber for such a happy occasion,” he said, handing her a flute of champagne he’d grabbed from a passing waiter.
Pippa shook her head. “Really?” she said. “I didn’t mean to look so disconnected. I guess I’m just lost in thought.”
Topher shook his head. “Please, don’t tell me it’s that thought.” He decided it was high time to just make light of the damned thing, at least face-to-face with her.
She blushed and stammered her reply. “Oh, God, no! I mean, what thought?”
He lowered his head and arched his brow. “I think it goes without saying which thought.”
“You mean that? Heavens no! I thought about that hours ago.” She covered her mouth with her hands. “I mean no! I haven’t been thinking about that! I haven’t thought about that in ages. Actually I’ve never thought about that.” Pippa placed her hand over her eyes, mortified at her stupid remarks.
Topher repeated his dubious look. “I’m pretty sure if I thought about it when we first ran into each other, then you did.”
Pippa cringed. “Oh Toph. It was so long ago. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to resurrect that dead issue.”
He laughed. “Not to worry. It never died, so you can’t be accused of bringing it back to life. Like it or not, it’s part of me now.”
Pippa snorted. “Were it not for me, it wouldn’t have remained in you long enough to be an issue.”
She burst out laughing.
Topher smiled. “Yep, talk about wank-us interruptus.” They both laughed. “I think it’s time we let bygones be bygones with this one, what do you say?”
She nodded and looked down, blushing, which surprised Topher because he’d never known her to be one to wither at the first sign of awkward conversation. Of course if any topic would make her cringe, this one certainly would  be it.
“Yeah, sure.”
Topher reached out his hand in invitation. “Would you like to dance?”
She smiled and nodded, and he pulled Pippa toward him to escort her to the dance floor as they joined the hundreds of guests around them. For several minutes they just enjoyed each other’s company, not saying a word.
When the orchestra started playing “Beyond the Sea,” Topher pulled her closer, his hand around hers, pressed to his chest.
“This is my song,” he said to her.
“You have your own anthem?”
Topher smiled. “Smart-ass,” he said, tapping her on the nose with the tip of his finger. “No. But it makes me think of what makes me happiest: being out on the ocean.”
Pippa cocked her head. “Oh really? You’re a seagoing creature, are you?”
He nodded. “Something about the water calls to me. I’ve been pursuing my studies in marine biology, which takes me there often. I feel most at home when I’m bobbing on a boat in azure waters.”
She nodded. “I understand what you’re saying. It’s like how I feel when I’m helping others. It’s almost like I’m home, too, in a way.”
“Helping others?”
“I work for Zander’s charity,” she said. “I often travel all over the world, whether I’m trying to enlist financial support or simply helping out with a project myself.”
Topher had no idea that’s what Pippa did. He was relieved she wasn’t one of those trustafarian royals who rested on her daddy’s bank account and shopped till she dropped. Though to be fair, he could easily be of the same ilk. Except that his parents would kill him if he tried that.
He found himself leaning in and whispering into her ear, “Wow, you’re quite the international woman of mystery, now.”
Pippa shook her head. “Not so much. Just doing my job is all. But I’d love to hear about your travels.”
Topher’s eyes lit up. “I’ve been doing research on global warming and its impact on coral reefs. Which means I get to sail in beautiful locations all in the name of work.”
“Not too shabby,” she said. “I could almost be jealous about that.”
“Maybe you could figure out a way to incorporate your charitable work with it and come sailing with me some time.” Topher lifted his brow.
Pippa caught her breath. “Me? Sailing with you?”
Topher leaned back to take in her demeanor. “If it’s something you might enjoy.”
“Who doesn’t love to sail?” she said. “But I’ve only sailed in the Mediterranean. What’s it like in the Caribbean?”
He took a breath as he thought about it. “The water is so clear and comes in so many intoxicating shades of blue and green.”
She smiled dreamily. “I never thought of those colors as intoxicating.”
“Oh, but they are,” he said. “Imagine, looking at water the color of the finest turquoise stones. So pure and so inviting. It warms the soul.”
“But what about sharks?”
Topher shook his head. “The biggest sharks you have to worry about there are of the male variety,” he said. “Some of those beach bars, you just never know what type of disreputable men you’ll encounter.”
They both laughed.
“Disreputable, eh?” she said, cocking her eyebrow. “But surely you’d protect me from these shark men, right?”
Topher pulled her in tighter, thinking of how he’d always fantasized about being that man to take care of Pippa.
“That goes without saying,” he said, his voice warm and rumbly in her ear.
“So what do you do with yourself when you’re all the way out there in the ocean? How do you while away those long, lonely nights?”
He laughed. “To be honest, I’ve never had to concern myself with whiling away the hours. After a long day of work, the best I can muster is kicking back with a rum drink, grilling a steak, and blasting some music while absorbing yet another perfect sunset.”
“By yourself?”
“There’s always the skipper,” he said.
“Now that’s not exactly romantic,” Pippa said. “You, a romantic sunset, and the captain.”
Topher cracked up. “Unless the skipper’s a woman,” he said with a wink. “But seriously, you’ve got a point. Though I suppose some might find it romantic to be with the captain.”
“What about companionship?” she asked. “Don’t you find it lonely being out to sea so long?”
To be truthful, he occasionally did. It wasn’t like you could pick up a one-night stand so easily when you were out to sea. Nor did you want to pick up someone you’d regret being stuck with. He tended to keep his philandering shore-side. Not that he philandered much, but still.
“You ask funny questions, you know that?” he said. “For someone who would barely talk to me for all those years, now you’re concerned about my love life?”
Pippa paused as if to think for a minute, then broke into a wide grin. She glanced up into his face, and he knew exactly what triggered her reaction.
“Oh, my God,” he said. “Surely you’re not asking me that?”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t at first,” she said. “But then I started to think about it. I mean what else does one do when one is away from members of the opposite sex and the need is there?”
Topher grinned. “That might depend upon whom you’re talking about. I am a man, after all,” he said. “Let’s leave it at that.”
Pippa’s mind flashed to The Episode, where the boy Topher was deeply engrossed in that very activity. Her face flushed as she recalled it.
“But,” he added, “If you really want to discuss this, then what about you? What would you do all alone on a boat?”
She pursed her lips and thought about it. “Depends if the boat has thin walls.”
He laughed some more. “I’m starting to think I’d love to be your skipper. I’d tell you the walls were fortified, if that’s what it took.”
Pippa fake-slapped him. “Why, how dare you, Prince Christopher!”
“Oh, so we’re going to do it on a dare, then?” he asked, pulling her in closer, whispering into her ear.
Her breathing got heavier as she thought about him all alone on a boat. “I could be persuaded,” she whispered back into his ear.
It was Topher’s turn for heavy breathing as he pressed himself up against her, leaving no question about where this discussion was going in his mind. “It’s gotten so crowded in here. Perhaps we should continue this discussion somewhere a little more…private.”
Pippa locked her hazel eyes onto his soulful gray ones. “But everyone would know we’d disappeared together.”
He shook his head. “We’ll slip off discreetly. You go first and I’ll follow in a minute. I think you know the way to my apartment.”
She took a deep breath. “Our secret?”
He nodded. “No one will be the wiser.”


JennyGardiner_SomethingintheHeir200   JennyGardiner_HeirTodayGoneTommorrow200
JennyGardiner_BadtotheThrone200  JennyGardiner_LoveIsInTheHeir_200 
Subscribe to my newsletter
find me on Facebook
find me on Twitter
my website

Sunday, July 19, 2015

You Name It I Write It by Jenny Gardiner

I am definitely a crazy mixed-up kid when it comes to what I write. Perhaps it's because I started out as a writer, which isn't always the case with authors. I studied journalism and minored in broadcast news, worked in newspaper, radio and TV, and then as a publicist.
So even before I started writing books, I was all over the place. And even now, I'm always writing and pitching stories for newspapers, magazines, radio programming, and online sites. Sort of Whack-A-Mole publishing, that's me. In some ways that has held me in good stead, but in others it sort of feeds a kind of ADD writing, where focusing on one thing, versus covering all bases and then some, might be a good idea.

For years I would just write the book I wanted to write at the time I wanted to write it. Which led me to writing a novel that was a cross between humorous women's fiction and chick lit. Then a novel that was women's fiction. Then a memoir. Then came some rom/com, one ill-conceived dabble in very steamy romance that came about as a result of a writing challenge. Next I put together a collection of essays, contributed to an anthology about dogs, then some more women's fiction, even 2/3 of a vampire novel (written as a joke), I have a brilliant mystery series, and well, it goes on from there. My last full-length novel that I wrote but didn't publish is serious commercial women's fiction (although it is dead to the world right now, perhaps to be resurrected some day if I get the energy to figure out how to fix it).
Years ago I was at a conference talking with my friend Marie Force. This was before the onset of digital publishing, just on the cusp of it. We were both with some publishing houses, me with my foray of all-over-the-place writing, and her with her romance novels, with which she was wisely building up a group of readers who eagerly awaited her next novel. Both of us were quite frustrated with the publishing climate as it existed back then.

"Did you ever think that maybe you should concentrate on one genre?" Marie asked me.
Huh. I hadn't really considered that, to be honest. I sort of proudly wore that "write what I want to write when I want to write it" badge, hoping for the best.

Fast forward a good handful of years. Both of us got into digital publishing in the early days, me with some terrific early success, though a subsequent hiatus from publishing was a really bad plan, but that is what it is. And Marie has sold tens of millions of romance novels and now runs a publishing empire.

And finally I decided I did indeed need focus on one thing and go from there. Which is why now I've been writing and publishing a rom/com series called It's Reigning Men. And I've got an eye to my next series that I can't wait to start writing (although I'm still having a lot of fun with this one so not sure when I can get around to that).

The fact is, Marie was right: I needed to stick with the program and find an audience who would come along with my books. Which is how I started writing my current series. The great upside is that I've had a lot of fun delving into world-building and jet-setting my characters all over the world.

Now I need to to get rid of the myriad distractions that are keeping me from finishing book four in this series and I'll be good to go!

PS today is the last day that SOMETHING IN THE HEIR is on sale everywhere! Only 99 cents through today!
JennyGardiner_SomethingintheHeir200  JennyGardiner_HeirTodayGoneTommorrow200
JennyGardiner_BadtotheThrone200  JennyGardiner_LoveIsInTheHeir_200
Subscribe to my newsletter
find me on Facebook
find me on Twitter
my website

Sunday, June 21, 2015

La Bella Vita by Jenny Gardiner

We were blogging on a group blog recently about locations: writing locations, settings in books, etc. As luck would have it I'd just returned from an amazing month away on a working vacation in Italy and Morocco. 
Below is my post about working vacations. Keep scrolling for some fun pictures of my work venues for that month, and even further down, squeee!!!, you get a first peek at my latest book cover for book 4 in my IT'S REIGNING MEN series, LOVE IS IN THE HEIR, available for pre-order and set to release in late September.
Oh! And book three, BAD TO THE THRONE, releases on June 29. It is my favorite so far in this series, complete with a Harry-esque bad boy prince who I think you'll fall for...
 And lastly, don't forget to sign up for my newsletter--which will be going out next week. There'll be a little special something in there for your efforts ;-) .

I recently returned from a lovely working vacation in Italy and Morocco. And the hard part of a working vacation is the work part.

I departed for our trip with a deadline pending for the third book in my It's Reigning Men series. I had a lot of fun writing this book--the hero in it is a rakish Prince Harry-esque black sheep, and I just loved his attitude. So I didn't want to rush to end the book, plus I was scrambling to get ready to leave, so I left the final third of the book dangling...

Which meant I had a few days during my trip in which I had to just hunker down, abandon the idea of being a tourist, and focus on writing. Of course this was a bit of a bummer, because I would have far rather wandered the streets of ancient Italian cities and settled in for a leisurely lunch of pappardelle al sugo di anatra (fat strips of homemade pasta with amazingly delicious duck confit cooked in a red sauce) and a glass of Chianti. Which would have led to the need for a nap which would have meant no writing.

So instead, I savored my "rooms" with a view, and hunkered down to finish my novel with some of the most spectacular scenery going.

We writers are so blessed that we can do our work pretty much anywhere. And over the years I have, by default, done that: in pick-up line at the kids' schools, on the sidelines at soccer practices, with ear plugs in while the kids watched the television that is mere feet from my "desk" which is in the kitchen and basically means hardly a quiet zone.

So my designated work stations while away this time were pretty much unbeatable: at our B&B with a spectacular view of the Duomo di Siena, which is a breathtaking work of architecture; while sitting on the ponte di Santa Trinita in Florence, with a view of the famed Ponte Vecchio in front of me and the world's most amazing gelato just steps away (Gelateria Santa Trinita---if you're in Florence, go there and try the sesamo nero, which sounds weird, black sesame seed gelato, but is incredible).

I wrote at an outdoor bar in the delightfully colorful Piazza Santo Spirito (full of great people-watching, which sort of causes problems when trying to focus on writing!), in the Oltrarno, the section of Florence across the Arno River that is more residential and relatively less touristy.

Not for the first time I enjoyed writing in the Giardino di Boboli, the spectacular gardens that are part of the imposing Palazzo Pitti (hoarding headquarters for the Medici family), with a splendid view of all of Florence.

I regretted missing a fascinating tour of the city of Matera in the Basilicata region of Italy, down by the boot heel. My husband got to take that tour while I hunkered down on the deadline-iest of deadline days: I absolutely had to get my book to my editor on that day or it would screw up my publication date, which would make me an enemy of Amazon ;-) . Far be it from me to get on the bad side of Amazon...

Anyhow, the "Sassi" in Matera are a United Nations World Heritage site---originally a prehistoric troglodyte settlement, considered to be among the first human settlements in what is now Italy. The Sassi are caves dug into the rocks, from which an ancient town sprung, one cave atop the other, until a warren of many thousands of caves piled atop and next to one another existed. Until the mid-20th century these caves were inhabited by the poorest of the poor, who were ultimately relocated to housing with plumbing and other modern comforts. Since then the area has been rebuilt to house apartments, hotels, restaurants and shops. It's an amazing place, extraordinarily beautiful at night when lit up, too.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have had such an phenomenal opportunity to travel and experience the world and various cultures and incorporate it into my writing (and am grateful that my husband has afforded me these opportunities because trust me, writing isn't paying these bills). On this trip also, we visited Morocco, and immersed ourselves in an entirely different culture there (and, um, learned the hard way that the closest place to the Sahara desert in which to find a tampon would be a rugged 10-hour drive through the High Atlas Mountains to Marrakech...)

Along the way I also worked on my book while waiting for a grocery store to open in Siena as I needed to buy laundry detergent and was in a hurry to get it done before we traveled to Florence.

I love to incorporate things I experience while traveling into my books, and have used quite a bit of my extensive Italian travels in my current series, the It's Reigning Men series, especially with the third book of the series, Bad to the Throne, which is available for pre-order now here and will be released June 29.

I hope you can enjoy a little bit of my journeys as you read my books! And please, do enjoy the view!
working on deadline with Duomo di Siena as my view
working on deadline with Duomo di Siena as my view
I had a solid 30 minutes to write while at the entrance to a grocery store. Catch as catch can!
I had a solid 30 minutes to write while at the entrance to a grocery store. Catch as catch can!
I was waiting for my husband and daughter so parked it on the Duomo steps and wrote for 20 minutes
I was waiting for my husband and daughter so parked it on the Duomo steps and wrote for 20 minutes
enjoyed writing in the serenity of the Boboli Gardens (until I fell asleep...)
enjoyed writing in the serenity of the Boboli Gardens (until I fell asleep...)
and this is the view from the Boboli Gardens--not too shabby...
and this is the view from the Boboli Gardens--not too shabby...
Yes, I did sit on the edge of a bridge and write with another famous bridge as my view
Yes, I did sit on the edge of a bridge and write with another famous bridge as my view
while enjoying an Aperol spritz I wrote outdoors in the Piazza Santo Spirito while a very drunk man screamed at strangers in the background...local color
while enjoying an Aperol spritz I wrote outdoors in the Piazza Santo Spirito while a very drunk man screamed at strangers in the background...local color
my final "deadline" deadline, where I gave up a great tour to write a really character and finish my book, in the Sassi in Matera, Italy
my final "deadline" deadline, where I gave up a great tour to write a really fun character and finish my book, in the Sassi in Matera, Italy
And I'm sure this fellow is going to somehow find his way into one of my books ;-). In the Sahara desert with my camel, who we named Ralph.
And I'm sure this fellow is going to somehow find his way into one of my books ;-). In the Sahara desert with my camel, who we named Ralph, and our nomad guide who offered up six camels for my daughter's hand in marriage ;-)
JennyGardiner_SomethingintheHeir200  JennyGardiner_HeirTodayGoneTommorrow200
JennyGardiner_BadtotheThrone200  
Subscribe to my newsletter
find me on Facebook
find me on Twitter
my website