‘CROWNS’ is a suspense romance novel and also a satirical comedy looking at our world of reality TV, media manipulation, news and fake news.
Sophia our heroine, is a cop assigned as bodyguard to a heart-throb American boyband star, Charles, after she saves his life during an attempted kidnap in London. She’s old enough to be his mother, indeed her own teenage daughter has the hots for this media darling. There is however a strong attraction between Sophia and Charles and a developing romantic liaison.
With ancient family heritage trailing back to France, Charles has unwittingly become a pawn in plans for a political coup in France, where controlling elites are trying to re-establish the French Monarchy. They want to use him to further their own political aims. He’s filming a ‘fictional’ blockbuster mini-series, based on the story of his own ancestry, on location at a chateau in France. Sophia’s daughter, Isabelle, has been scooped up for her own protection and is also at the chateau. After a casting bungle, she’s ended up successfully standing in as the female love-interest character in the film.
Charles’ involvement has made him a target for opposition forces. His life is now in danger. During the filming, a fatal incident alerts them that there has been infiltration of the film crew by opposition forces, who, indeed, take control. The rebel chief has put them under guard to stop them from thwarting his dastardly plans in Paris where he plans to murder the French President and now Sophia must find a way of getting Charles to safety. She has engineered a ruse to get the guards to allow them some privacy in her bedroom…
EXTRACT FROM CROWNS
The two soldiers came with them, one in front, one behind. At her door, one took up position outside, the other strode ahead of them into the room and commenced a search. This was a real stroke of luck. This was the guy who had shown her and Izzy to the room.
“Do you speak English?” she asked.
“We met when we arrived. My daughter keeps talking about you.”
“Pretty girl, yes,” he said with a shy smile.
She took off her shoes and put one foot on the bed. His gaze flashed to her panties as her dress rode up her thigh.
“She will be back later today and I know she would like to see you again. Young people need to be alone together sometimes.”
“Yes, yes,” he said.
“Maybe Charles and I can have a moment together. I know Izzy would like me to give her some space later on.”
The soldier watched as her hand drifted up to the lace edge of her panties.
“You’ll only be just outside, you’ll be able to hear anything that happens.”
“You mean—madame, you mean I am here with her later?” said the young soldier.
“I can see you’d like that. She has been asking me to get a message to you.”
From the corner of her eye she could see Charles frowning, almost on the point of interrupting.
“I can finish three hours of the afternoon,” he said.
“I’ll see if I can tell her. Maybe you can give the king and me a few minutes together. Then I would be very grateful,” she said, letting her finger tease inside the hem of her panties as his eyes followed her movements. “Very grateful.”
She could tell that the poor lad was bursting. He had positioned his machine gun to hide his arousal.
“OK,” he said. “Not tell, big problem, please understand.”
The guard stepped outside. As the door closed she tip-toed to the chair and silently wedged it under the door handle. She put her finger to her lips and motioned for Charles to sit on the bed.
“Bounce,” she whispered, indicating she wanted him to make the bed creak. She let out an audible orgasmic cry as she stripped and scrabbled into the track suit and trainers.
“They’re going to kill us. We’re getting out,” she whispered between simulated cries of sexual abandon.
“Fuck yeah, fuck me,” she screeched as she got to the window. A grappling iron clattered the balcony of the room above. A plain rope led down to a waiting yellow post office van. She motioned for Charles to come over as she opened the window. She got on the bed to take his place and continued.
“Yes! Yes! Yes—fuck yeah aaaaahhhh.”
Charles seemed to be hesitating.
“Fuck yeah—go for it now,” she screamed.
He seemed to get the message and took hold of the rope.
“Yeah, that’s it. I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called to him.
He was obviously strong and lowered himself to the ground. She gave one last burst of ecstasy.
“Come in my pussy. Fuck. Fuck, do it inside me. Yes! Yes!”
She covered her retreat to the window with a continuous howl of lust. He took her waist as she reached the ground.
“Just trust me,” she said.
They clambered into the back of the van on top of parcels and bags of letter. A Brit dressed in the uniform of a mailman of La Poste was at the wheel. He drove away calmly up the long tree-lined drive and turned left onto a road.
“We’re heading for a little place called Crazannes. The chopper is in an old quarry. By the way, I’m not Postman Pat, I’m Sergeant Shawn Henning at your service,” he said.
“Are you coming with us?” asked Charles.
“No, sir. I’ve got my men in the woods. We’re getting out overnight to the coast. There’s a submarine off Tremblade. We’ll move out once we get the all clear from Colonel Wolf. We’re not anxious for the French government to know we’ve been here. A local gendarme is giving us a lift in the company minibus.
“That’ll be Hervé! We’ll have to make sure he gets acknowledged,” said Charles. “You’ll have to fill in quite a few gaps for me about today.”
Sophia leaned back against a sack of Super U hypermarket junk mail flyers. Where to start? Guns, kings, rebels, planes, helicopters, submarines whirled in her head. Then there was her daughter, her job, her flat and a world of politics and showbiz. And her stupid, longing, bloody heart. Ah well, the whole thing seemed more or less kamikaze anyway.
Charles put an arm around her.
“There will be a space for us. I promise you,” he said.
Read more from this story and get your copy of ‘CROWNS’ here: http://www.smarturl.it/webcrowns