Lucas Andino had been summoned by the king…the only problem? He needed a wife…or at least a fiancée, which wouldn’t have been a problem except…his girlfriend just broke up with him. In desperation, he turned to his best friend, Francesca—or Frankie as she was known to, well, everyone. Frankie needed a topic for her sociology dissertation, and she needed it yesterday. When Lucas suggested they become fake engaged so he could answer the summons of the king, Frankie saw the opportunity for what it was. Who else would have unfettered access to a monarch for their dissertation? Who else could do an up close and personal examination of an emerging nation? Besides, Frankie would do anything for Lucas. They were best friends for a reason and if he needed her, then she was his girl. So what if she had a tiny crush on him? They were both going into it with their eyes wide open. No one was going to get hurt.

*Finalist in the 2020 Independent Author Network Book of the Year Award for LGBTQ Fiction and Non-Fiction* What's the only Christmas surprise better than a prince in disguise? Two of them. Even though Christmas is fast-approaching, Prince Alaister is having trouble getting into the holiday spirit. A member of Parliament has been stealing and laundering public funds, and Alaister can't rest until he solves the crime. When he tracks the stolen money from his country, Alstadia, through the Caribbean, all the way to a sleepy little town in New England, he knows he needs to follow the lead. So he books himself a holiday trip to America. The town of Yuletide, Maine is a veritable winter wonderland, full of Christmas-themed shops, light displays, and cookie baking contests. Since no one knows he is a prince, it is tempting to dive into the celebrations. But Alaister is not here to celebrate; he is here to investigate. Which becomes difficult when he meets Ama, a handsome commoner visiting the town...or so he thinks. But Ama is not a tourist on a Christmas vacation. He is Prince Jean-Michel Amadou Musa Des Rois, younger brother to the King of Port des Rois, a small island nation in the Caribbean. Like Alaister, Amadou has come to Yuletide following threads of corruption. An international company is laundering money through his country, and he wants to find out why. Both men are clever in their investigations, but their efforts thwart each other in a comedy of errors as their identities get tangled and their intentions get steamy. It will take a Christmas miracle to untangle this royal ruse! Content Note: This book contains explicit sexual content and mature language. This book contains depiction and discussion of depression/seasonal affective disorder, which may be sensitive for some readers.

Includes Annual report and statement of accounts.

Through an examination of her complete works and public response to them, Robertson gauges the extent of Inchbald's reputation as the dignified Mrs Inchbald, as well as providing a clear sense of what it meant to be a female Romantic writer.

I want to set the record straight. Everything you’ve heard about my stepmother is wrong. Okay, she did have a magic mirror of sorts, but that is about the only truth in the tale you’ve heard. For a start, she wasn’t my stepmother, she was my mother. The victors write the history, or at least the ones with the pen do. My mother gets a bad rap because she stood up to some powerful people and those people were the ones who got to dictate the ‘truth.’ The story you’ve heard, or read, tells of a woman twisted by vanity who couldn’t stand that her stepdaughter was more beautiful than she was. Such utter crap. Only a man could write something so asinine. I’m pretty sure that men purposely pit women against women so that we can never unite because every man knows if women could come together, they wouldn’t stand a chance against us…but I digress. According to the ‘history’, my stepmother—mother—was so jealous of me that she commanded a huntsman to take me into the woods and kill me. Apparently, my stepmother wanted to eat my heart so she could become immortal—insert eye roll here. Of course the valiant man did not kill me—insert another eye roll here—but rather helped me to escape my evil stepmother’s clutches. If you haven’t guessed already, I’m not exactly happy with the way things have turned out. Let’s not forget about the multiple attempts to kill me—all blamed on my mother, of course—or the fact that a complete stranger stole my body while I was in a coma…yeah, we’ll get to that. This entire story has been nothing but propaganda. A blatant attempt by a neighbouring king to marry me off to his son, take over my homeland, and dethrone my mother. Well, I’ve had enough. I’m writing this down to document the truth. This is truth as I experienced it…the real truth. This is the full and unabridged tale of my own life. Me, Snow White, the Poisoned Princess.