The Chateau of Happily Ever Afters By Jamie Admans. - Excerpt and Giveaway! With Neverland Blog Tours.

Friday, 30 June 2017

Where dreams come true…?

Wendy Clayton stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago. Instead, she has a ‘nice’ life. Nice job. Nice flat. Absolutely no men. Until her life is turned upside-down when her elderly neighbour, Eulalie, passes away and leaves her the Château of Happily Ever Afters!
But there’s a catch: she must share the sprawling French castle with Eulalie’s long-lost nephew, Julian. And no matter how gorgeous he is, or how easily she finds herself falling head over heels, Wendy needs to find a way to get rid of him…
Because surely happily ever afters don’t happen in real life?

Escape to beautiful France this summer with this uplifting romantic comedy. Perfect for fans of Kat French, Caroline Roberts, and Holly Martin.

Author Bio:

Jaimie is a 32-year-old English-sounding Welsh girl with an awkward-to-spell name. She lives in South Wales and enjoys writing, gardening, watching horror movies, and drinking tea, although she’s seriously considering marrying her coffee machine. She loves autumn and winter, and singing songs from musicals despite the fact she’s got the voice of a dying hyena. She hates spiders, hot weather, and cheese & onion crisps. She spends far too much time on Twitter and owns too many pairs of boots.
She will never have time to read all the books she wants to read.

She is the author of chick-lit romantic comedies The Chateau of Happily Ever Afters and Kismetology, and she has also written young-adult romantic comedies Afterlife Academy, Not Pretty Enough, and North Pole Reform School.

Author links:

The Chateau of Happily Ever Afters:

Will also be available from all other ebook retailers.


I sneak another look at this Mr McBeath bloke. He’s still nodding along like he understands all this perfectly, and I wonder how he can be so calm. Isn’t he even half as bewildered as I am?

‘But she didn’t have a château in France, and she definitely didn’t have a nephew. She didn’t have any family. She’d lived alone for twenty-odd years since her husband died.’

‘Great-nephew,’ he says in a Scottish accent.

Annoyance flares in me at his flippant response. This is a big deal and he’s acting like someone’s told him it might rain tomorrow. ‘No nephew. This whole thing is a joke. You’re—’

‘If you don’t mind…’ the solicitor interrupts. ‘There is no question of legitimacy here. You, Miss Clayton, and you, Mr McBeath, are now the proud owners of Le Château de Châtaignier, a nineteenth-century castle in a little corner of lower Normandy, France. Once owned by Lord Beauchene, the Duke of Toussion, passed to his wife upon his death, which she now leaves to you, and—’

‘The Château of Happily Ever Afters.’ I let out a breath. Normandy, the duke, a château. Eulalie always spoke about it. She’d told me so many stories of France in the 1950s, of a young girl falling in love with a handsome duke and living in a castle, but I never thought it was real. She loved to read romance novels and I always thought her tales were nothing more than the fantasies of a lonely old lady, stories spun like those in the books she read. Her hands were arthritic and she couldn’t write them down so she told them to me instead.

Both men are looking at me like I’m a few bananas short of a bunch. ‘Eulalie talked about it. She called it “The Château of Happily Ever Afters”. She used to tell me stories about a duke and a huge château with so many rooms they didn’t know what to use them all for.’ I can’t help smiling at the memory. I miss her so much, the easy evenings with a glass of French wine each while we sat in front of her window, looking at the street down below. The smell of the Indian takeaway three doors down, grown men fighting each other in the road, drunken people vomiting on the pavements. ‘How can you be so drunk that you feel the need to vomit in the street at eight p.m.?’ she’d say. ‘People have no sense of refinement these days. In my day, projectile vomiting was saved for strictly two a.m. onwards.’

Eulalie told stories of a different life, of romance and adventure with a handsome duke in France, stories of love and laughter, a million miles away from the grotty streets and mildewed block of flats where we lived. But they were just stories to escape from reality. None of it was real. Was it?

‘Forty rooms,’ the solicitor says, running a finger down a sheet of paper on his desk. ‘Fifteen acres of land. It’s been unoccupied for twenty years. It’s yours to do what you want with now. You can use it as a holiday home, move there, sell it on and keep the money…’
‘I’ll buy her out,’ the fake-nephew says, like I’m not even in the room, and I splutter at his nerve. Who does he think he is?

‘The property has been valued at just under a million euros,’ the solicitor says.
I choke on air. A million euros?

Fake-nephew goes red in the face and starts fidgeting with his cufflinks. ‘Well, maybe not buy her out as such…’

Ha. Serves him right for being so blasé.

Now here's the Giveaway! 

French-themed stationery goodie bag.
1 x Paperchase Paris notebook and pen
1 x The Chateau of Happily Ever Afters notebook
1 x little Eiffel Tower model
1 x Eiffel Tower bookmark
1 x The Chateau of Happily Ever Afters magnet
1 x Signed postcard

a Rafflecopter giveaway

I hope you have enjoyed learning a bit more about this dreamy summer read...I would love to disappear into this whilst soaking up the sunshine outside on the Stray! Best of Luck! 

Love, Sarah

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