Book 1, in The The Crown Affair Series
"The Prince's Playbook"
Genre: New Adult, Romantic Comedy. 268 pages.
Price: $3.99 ebook (at time of post)
I, Maximillian Cristoph Rochartè, was Prince of Bellèno. I couldn’t fall in love with American commoner. Or could I?
I stumbled across Vivian in a biker bar when she had the stones to pour a pitcher of margaritas on a guy who was harassing another waitress. She had legs from here to eternity, the devil’s own sense of humor, and the face of an angel. She was everything I ever wanted.
But none of that mattered.
The House of Bellèno’s crown jewels were being squeezed. The monarchy had borrowed millions and the loans were coming due. I tried re-negotiating the deals but hit a wall. I’d sell my soul to save my family when an even better idea hit me.
I tracked down a billionaire nobleman who was thrilled to fork over a fortune to marry his daughter, Lady Cici, to a prince. But Lord Angus Fontaine wouldn’t settle for me—I was the spare to the throne. He wanted my brother Leopold, the crown prince—the heir.
Then inspiration struck again. Darling Vivian was a dead ringer for Cici, and she could impersonate her for a few weeks until the real Cici returned to Bellèno to marry my brother. It was messy. It was complicated. I loved it.
I was screwed.
Because now weeks had passed, Cici hadn’t show up, and I was falling in love with Vivian. Unfortunately, my brother was too…
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My Rating: 
My Thoughts: Pleeeease Let Me Apply For This Job!
If you read the Part-Time Princess novel, you'll definitely enjoy this sexier version. The story is most certainly ramped up with the assistance of dual perspective, thanks to the introduction of the very dirty mind of a very hot ginger prince.
Overall, I have to admit not much changed from the original novel. However, by introducing Max as a more prominent character in being the mastermind behind the Crown Affair, a reader can really fall for the prince. The banter and chemistry between Max and Vivian is almost palpable, both have a lot at stake but it's the ending that is still sooo cute. Oh and the Ladies-in-waiting are still just as hilarious as ever! Can't wait for the next novel to see what will happen next for this crazy in love couple.
Overall, I have to admit not much changed from the original novel. However, by introducing Max as a more prominent character in being the mastermind behind the Crown Affair, a reader can really fall for the prince. The banter and chemistry between Max and Vivian is almost palpable, both have a lot at stake but it's the ending that is still sooo cute. Oh and the Ladies-in-waiting are still just as hilarious as ever! Can't wait for the next novel to see what will happen next for this crazy in love couple.
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Chapter 3: (Maximillian)
I, paused for a few moments to check Vivian out. She was the right age, feisty as hell, and could clearly think on her feet. She had that girl-next-door kind of look, the girl that you’d known forever but one day blossomed and poof, like magic, became sexy as sin. A myriad of unknown factors could screw my scheme to high heaven but I couldn’t help but wonder if my crazy plan could play out.
Unfortunately, the beautiful girl who might have been the answer to my prayers was also walking away from me at an alarming clip. She threw her hands up in the air, either speaking with ear buds into a phone or talking to herself. “I’ll have you arrested for assault,’” she said in a falsetto. “Fucking wienie with short fat fingers. We all know what that translates to.”
Yes. Definitely talking to herself.
“Who needs this shitty, fucking job? Crappy hours. Minimum wage plus tips. Stupid short skirt that makes me look like I’m giving away pussy shots for free. Ugh.”
I snorted but clapped a hand over my mouth and followed after her.
“And I am done with these cheap, blister-producing boots.” She stopped in the middle of the street, propped one hand against a parked car, balanced on one foot, and unzipped a boot.
I was mesmerized as that zipper slid down her upper thigh, past her knee, over her calf and all the way to her ankle. She latched onto the heel, wriggled her hips, and wrangled the thing off. My cock started throbbing. I turned my head to see if indeed there was a free pussy shot, but sadly there was not. I was spying on her like some kind of weirdo voyeur. What kind of prince was I?
A prince who needed to get his act together or the golden opportunity that had presented itself would slip away. I walked toward her.
“Hey lady. Maybe you shouldn’t be undressing in public. But if you insist, allow me to help—”
She blinked under the glare of a street lamp. “Pervert! Stay away from me!”
“Not a pervert. The guy from Mugshot’s Bar. The one who—”
“Asshole!” She threw her boot at my head.
The boot bounced off my face. I stumbled backwards and caught myself on a parked car. “Ow.”
“Wait. You’re not that asshole,” she said. “Sorry! Then again, maybe you should think twice about approaching a single woman late at night on a deserted street and scaring the crap out of her. I’m in no mood. Leave. Me. Alone.”
She turned and hobbled away, which wasn’t easy considering she had one bare foot and was still wearing the boot on the other.
I could feel my eye socket swelling but I couldn’t help but laugh. I picked up the boot. “Hold on, Cinderella. You forgot your glass slipper.”
She turned and stared at me. “It’s pleather. Burn it. Oh crap, did I hit you in the eye?”
“Yes, Rocky. I’ve endured worse. It sounds like you’re out of a job. Will you be looking for a new one?”
“Will politicians always lie?”
I fumbled in my pocket for a card and extended it toward her. “I might have something of interest for you.”
She walked a few feet toward me, took it, and held it up to the light. “Your name’s not on here. Who has a business card that doesn’t have their name on it?”
“My name’s Maximillian—”
“Nice to meet you Max.” She slipped the card down her cleavage and unzipped her other boot. “You have an accent. Where are you from?”
“Bellèno.”
She kicked off the other boot. My gaze was torn between her gorgeous tits, her curvy hips, and her long, toned legs.
“Aha. The word on the card. I’ve heard of that place. It’s a skiing town in the Alps, right?”
“Something like that.”
She stood up straight, barefoot on the asphalt on a warm summer night. She was around five feet six inches tall. The right height.
“Tell me in one sentence what the job entails.”
“Tough to describe in one sentence.”
“So, it’s illegal,” she said, arching one eyebrow.
“Not really.”
“‘Not really’ means quite possibly.”
She looked even more wholesome without the boots, a far cry from the majority of women I met.
“You’re smart. And you’re impossibly gorgeous.”
“You’re hot,” she said. “But I’m not looking for that right now. Apologies about the eye. I wasn’t aiming for it. I’ve gotta go.”
“Change your mind, Vivian, give that number a ring. Mention ‘The Crown Affair.’”
“That doesn’t make your offer sound more legitimate, you know. Go home and put some ice on that eye.”
“I’m staying at a hotel.”
“I bet they have ice, too.”
“I’m in town for a few more days. Trust me, this is a great opportunity.”
“Thanks, Max.” She waved at me as she rounded a corner and then disappeared from my sight. “That’s what they all say.” 
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USA Today Bestselling author Pamela DuMond discovered Erin Brockovich’s true life story, thought it would make a great movie, and pitched it to ‘Hollywood.’
She loves writing Romantic Comedy, Royal Romance, Historical Fantasy, and Cozy Mysteries.
Pamela’s also a chiropractor specializing in working with children as well as people living with chronic pain. She lives in So Cal with her impossibly photogenic black cat. Pam loves reading, working out, and lives for a good giggle. Stalk her on the usual sites, sign up for her infrequent newsletters, and follow her on Bookbub.
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