Spotlight & Giveaway: Claiming His Convenient Princess by Susan Meier

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Susan Meier to HJ!

Hi Susan and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Claiming His Convenient Princess!

 
Thanks! It’s always fun to be here!
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

We’ve been following the hero, Prince Liam Sokol for two books. First, his widowed father found love with a younger woman, then his brother Axel found love with his bodyguard…and Liam, heir to the throne–the guy who has to produce an heir lost the love of his life when she refused to marry him because she couldn’t have kids. Desperate hits a few years later and he asks his dad to arrange a marriage for him. LOL He did not know what he was getting into. LOL His bride doesn’t want to become a queen…She runs a foodbank. She’s royalty, sure. But her father had nearly bankrupted them and she wants no part of it.
 

Please share your favorite line(s) or quote from this book:

He nodded and followed her to a space that looked more like a closet with a desk. Setting the cat carriers in a corner, she walked behind the desk, motioning for him to take a seat on the chair in front of it.
“My suitcases are in my car, which is parked in the back. I’m giving it to Freddie since he’ll be the one to take over while I’m gone, but that also means we don’t have to worry about it sitting in an alley.”
Shocked, Liam said, “You’re coming to Prosperita?”
“Wedding’s on.”
His focus had been so fixed on convincing her, that now that she’d agreed, he almost didn’t know what to say. Then he glanced the cats and remembered the way she snuggled the one that had escaped. She hadn’t brought them for company while she worked. He also didn’t think she was giving them away.
“You’re bringing your cats?”
“I love my cats.” The significance of that wasn’t lost on him. Her father used her as an asset. Her live-in boyfriend had taken money to leave her.
The two orange felines blinked at him from behind the doors of their carriers. She loved them.
“All right then.”

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• The series is called Scandal in the Palace because the three Sokol Royals all fall in love in unexpected ways with unexpected partners.
• I love that Demi has two cats that she adores. I love cats!
• I love that Demi worked for a homeless shelter before her father bartered her away in an arranged marriage.
• I love that we see Rowan and King Josef’s twins…and Liam’s Brother Axel’s happy successful marriage.
• I think I love the continuity that writing a series provides. I get the chance to show readers that those two romances are happy. The families in series become like old friends and I love that.

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

Being in an arranged marriage, they are a little more observant than when two ordinary people meet. They scrutinize each other almost painfully. But she is beautiful…and unspoiled. A realist with a good heart, she will make a great queen.
He is gorgeous. But he also makes her laugh. She might be forced to marry someone she doesn’t know but he surprises her. I love that about him.

Did any scene have you blushing, crying or laughing while writing it? And Why?

I hate that Liam breaks her heart in the black moment. This is a woman with the world’s worst family, who allows herself to be vulnerable and admit she loves him and he doesn’t want that. Why? Because he doesn’t want to be vulnerable. I just wanted to shake him silly. LOL

Readers should read this book….

Readers should read this book because it’s a fresh spin on the marriage of convenience story. Because Liam and Demi are painfully honest their journey is refreshingly interesting. I really worried that their honesty would steal some of the romance, but there’s unexpected romance around every corner. As the writer, I loved that. A lot of times characters will run away with a scene but Liam sort of stole the story. And that was fun for me.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?

I’m doing two really interesting projects for HQ. One, which is already written, is about a proposal planner who stands in for the fiancee in a fake proposal. My hero’s grandmother is refusing treatments for breast cancer, because she’s depressed after her husband’s death. The hero thinks getting engaged will cheer her up enough she’ll get the treatments so she can be around for his wedding. What can it hurt? It’s a funny, sort of romp, with a warm and fuzzy center.
The next book is that heroine’s over-fifty mom! I get to do an over-fifty heroine. I can’t wait for the opportunity to showcase this wonderful spunky, independent woman.
And both books take place primarily in gorgeous Italy!
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: I’ll be giving away 3 copies of Claiming his Convenience Princess…and one set of the entire series.

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: I’d love to know what readers think about arranged marriage stories. Liam and Demi really are an example of a couple that marries for things other than love so it’s believable. But how do readers feel? Is there ever a time when an arranged marriage seems real or logical…or like it will last?

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 
 

Excerpt from Claiming His Convenient Princess:

It wasn’t the most pleasant realization he’d ever had. But given their situation, it was the one that made the most sense. If he wanted a bride who respected him, worked with him, had fun with him, then he had to let her acclimate and not nudge her into something for which she wasn’t ready.

The next two weeks, they were seen in public enough that the media went a little crazy. That was when Liam realized why being patient with Demi and their relationship was the right thing to do. She was perfect. Beautiful, articulate, and committed to causes. She would make a wonderful queen.
If it took a while for those qualities to translate into a wonderful wife, then he shouldn’t interfere with the process. He should let their relationship happen naturally.
The national news exploded when they discovered that she’d run a homeless shelter in her country, but they’d gone nuts when they learned that Liam had packed boxes to distribute food to the poor.
Reporters even flew to Hermosa to get the scoop on her and her life. Oscar and Wanda talked on camera about how much they liked Liam and what a good worker he was. “And funny,” Wanda had told them.
The story became almost a fairytale of him being smitten the way Jozef had been with Rowan and doing whatever he needed to do to get Demi to fall for him.
It was a great story. Especially when they announced their engagement. She looked like a woman who could be a formidable queen and they appeared to be the happiest, most perfect couple.
But they still hadn’t slept together.
While he made an emergency diplomatic trip to the country of a struggling ally, the date was announced for the engagement ball. Silk paper invitations, printed in script, were to be sent to friends and family, including the king of Hermosa.
But before they could be delivered, mere minutes after Liam returned from his trip, his grandparents showed up on the doorstep of the castle.
Angry.
Stopping only to tell Russ the entire family should report to Jozef’s office, they stormed down the marble corridor.
In less than five minutes, everyone had gathered, and the reprimand had begun.
“And no one thought to tell us you were getting married?” his grandfather the former king, Alistair, asked, as he paced in front of Jozef’s desk.
His grandmother, Monique, sat in a chair, her face pinched to the point that she looked like she’d eaten a lemon.
Liam and Demi sat on a sofa near the window. Axel and Heather stood by the door—Axel looking like he was plotting one of his great escapes. Jozef sat at his desk, with Rowan standing behind him off to his right.
Jozef leaned back in his chair. “Things happened quickly.”
Monique glanced sideways at Liam. “So, we heard. From the papers.”
“I should have called,” Rowan said.
“Liam should have called,” Alistair said.
“I’m sorry,” Liam quickly apologized. “In all the hubbub of introducing Demi, getting out in public, throwing together a ball—”
“And falling in love,” Monique said shrewdly.
“And falling in love,” Liam agreed, because his family had decided not to announce that this was an arranged marriage. Unless his father chose to bring them into their confidence, Liam would hold up his end of the deal. “Things just got away from us.”
“And such a quick wedding!” Alistair railed.
Monique glanced at Demi’s middle, as if checking for a pregnancy.
His grandparents thinking his bride was pregnant would have made Liam laugh, except he was tired. They really had had an accelerated relationship. He’d been wooing his future bride as he’d introduced her to his country and performed all the duties of a prince—including a trip where he’d barely slept.
Worse, he didn’t even have the comfort of the intimacy he and Demi should have been sharing. It was like being the lead in a play. An actor who never actually got to sleep with his leading lady. Just pretend he did.
And he was tired.
Weirdly tired.
He’d endured a million things, now he was getting yelled at by his grandparents?
He rose from the sofa. “You know what? I’m tired.”
Everybody stopped talking.
“I’m tired.” He said it again in case somebody hadn’t heard. “I’ll see you all at dinner.”
He rose and left the office. Only when Demi came scurrying out behind him did he realize he’d left her.
He headed for his quarters. She kept up with his long strides.
“Are you okay?”
“I said I was tired.”
“Yeah. We all got that.”
“So?”
“So…I take it your grandparents might not rule the country, but they still rule the family, and they were angry that they weren’t told.”
“Then maybe they shouldn’t live in Paris? Maybe they should live in Prosperita where they’d actually see things for themselves.”

Demi couldn’t help it. She laughed.
He stopped walking. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because I’ve never seen you like this. There’s clearly something wrong.”
He took a breath. Started walking to his quarters again. “I’m tired.”
“Okay.”
She followed him to his quarters. When he reached the door, he paused. “You’re coming inside? Into my quarters…where God only knows what horrors lurk.”
This time, she took a good look at his face. She knew he wasn’t happy that they hadn’t yet slept together and just for the sake of the fun of it, she might have initiated something right now because it would probably be explosive and fun. But she looked in his eyes. They were a tad glassy.
She raised her hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up.”
He sighed, shoved open his door. “Whatever.”
She scrambled inside after him. “Come on. Let me call the kitchen. I’ll get you some chicken soup.”
Heading down the hall, he said, “Okay,” dropping clothes as he went. First his tie hit the floor, then his jacket. He kicked off his shoes. Then tossed his shirt. She found his trousers right outside the door she assumed led to his bedroom.
She knocked once. “Are you okay?”
Nothing.
She knocked again. “Are you okay?”
Nothing.
Concerned, she sucked in a long breath and called, “I’m coming in,” then pushed on the door.
There was a sitting room, of course, then some sort of ante room, then a slight push on another door took her into his bedroom.
He lay sideways across the bed, facedown, in his underwear.
Oh lord, he had a perfect behind.
She raced over and gave his thighs a nudge trying to move him more securely onto the bed. “Come on, let’s get you straightened out, maybe under the covers.”
“No.”
“Really. This can be easy. We’ll get you under the covers and I’ll grab some ibuprofen—” She glanced around. “Do you have a medicine cabinet?”
“Of course, I have a medicine cabinet!”
“Good, then you get yourself under the covers. I’ll get the ibuprofen and call the kitchen for chicken soup.”
He didn’t move. “Great.”
She went into his bathroom and gaped. The walls were marble, and she swore the fixtures were real gold. Lots of bathrooms could pull off a spa-like look, but this bathroom was—regal. There was no other word for it.
It took a minute to find ibuprofen then fill a glass with water. When she returned to his room, he was still face-down on the bed.
“You have to get up to take the meds.”
He said nothing but rolled over and hoisted himself into a sitting position. Demi blinked, keeping her eyes upward, not even peeking at things that were her business, but they weren’t at that point yet.
He took the pills and downed them before he took a long drink of water. As he did that, she pulled back the covers, more than a hint that he needed to get into bed properly. He rose and rebelliously yanked down the covers on the other side then slid into bed.
“I’m going to call your parents and cancel dinner tonight.”
He nestled under the covers. “My grammy’s going to be mad.”
She pressed her mouth together to keep from laughing. “Your grammy will get over it. You need some rest.”
She called Rowan’s cell and told her that Liam appeared to be ill. “I didn’t check his temperature, but when I put my palm on his forehead he was burning up.”
“Did he take something?”
“I made him take some ibuprofen and I’ll call the kitchen for soup. Go ahead with dinner without us. I want to stay here to make sure he’s okay.”
“Want the twins to feed the cats?”
“Yes! Thank you. I didn’t even think of that.”
“We’ll also be sending up a doctor. It’s protocol.”
“Oh.”
“He might only have a cold, but he has to be checked out.”
Now that Rowan mentioned it, Demi was glad it was protocol. “Seriously, it looks like a virus but I’m very happy to have that confirmed.”
“Good. The doctor will be up in a few minutes.”
The doctor turned out to be a middle-aged woman, who arrived with a physician’s assistant and a nurse.
They took his temperature, took blood and inserted an IV.
“Fluids,” the doctor said as she scribbled something on a chart.
“And vitamins,” the male PA added with a smile.
“Once we get the results of his blood work, we’ll know what’s going on. Then treatment might be more specific.”
“It looks like a simple virus.”
The doctor snorted. “I think we’ve learned in the past few years that not all viruses are simple.” She headed for the door. The nurse and PA scrambled to gather up everything.
“I’ll report to the king.”
Demi shook her head. “I can call him.”
The doctor, PA and nurse looked appalled. “There’ll be an official report.”
“Really? For a cold?”
The doctor sighed and walked through the ante room saying, “Even if it’s a common cold there’s an official report.”
Within seconds, the team was gone, and Demi was alone in Liam’s quarters. She ambled into the bedroom to confirm that he was sleeping peacefully—despite the IV in his arm.
He still lay under the covers in only his tidy whities, but the doctor hadn’t said anything about dressing him in royal pajamas, and he didn’t appear to be uncomfortable, so Demi left him as he was.
She turned to the doorway but found it difficult to leave the room. An odd emotion filled her. Not tenderness. More like responsibility. But not cold, hard facts responsibility. More of a need to care for someone she liked.
She strolled to a chair a few feet away from the foot of the huge king-sized bed. As she sat, she noticed a book on the lamp table beside the chair. She picked it up and smiled. He was reading the same bestseller she was.
Careful not to lose his place, she scrolled through the pages to the spot where she’d left off and began reading. But after a few minutes she stopped.
The dichotomy of something as simple as a book amid the majesty of the bedroom suite shifted through her. She’d seen it a million times in his life. One minute, Liam was a normal guy. The next he was a future king. Some people treated him like a friend. Others bowed and scraped.
It must be weird to live like that.
But he never complained. He never behaved as if he himself saw it.
After about an hour, he woke up to go to the bathroom. When he swung his legs off the bed the IV pole shifted and swayed.
“It’s only some fluid, spiked with vitamins,” she said, rushing over to help him.
He brushed her aside and rolled the IV pole to the bathroom on his own.
More weirdness fluttered through her. This man would be her husband in a few weeks, and he didn’t want her helping him.
But why would he? She might act like a queen, but she never behaved like a future wife.
And he’d stopped wanting her to.
He’d lowered his expectations.
Sadness rippled through her.
Still, maintaining some distance between them was for the best.
Wasn’t it?
It was. They could be happily married without either one of them being vulnerable. There was no need for love when there was respect and courtesy.
She would see to it.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

It wasn’t the most pleasant realization he’d ever had. But given their situation, it was the one that made the most sense. If he wanted a bride who respected him, worked with him, had fun with him, then he had to let her acclimate and not nudge her into something for which she wasn’t ready.

The next two weeks, they were seen in public enough that the media went a little crazy. That was when Liam realized why being patient with Demi and their relationship was the right thing to do. She was perfect. Beautiful, articulate, and committed to causes. She would make a wonderful queen.
If it took a while for those qualities to translate into a wonderful wife, then he shouldn’t interfere with the process. He should let their relationship happen naturally.
The national news exploded when they discovered that she’d run a homeless shelter in her country, but they’d gone nuts when they learned that Liam had packed boxes to distribute food to the poor.
Reporters even flew to Hermosa to get the scoop on her and her life. Oscar and Wanda talked on camera about how much they liked Liam and what a good worker he was. “And funny,” Wanda had told them.
The story became almost a fairytale of him being smitten the way Jozef had been with Rowan and doing whatever he needed to do to get Demi to fall for him.
It was a great story. Especially when they announced their engagement. She looked like a woman who could be a formidable queen and they appeared to be the happiest, most perfect couple.
But they still hadn’t slept together.
While he made an emergency diplomatic trip to the country of a struggling ally, the date was announced for the engagement ball. Silk paper invitations, printed in script, were to be sent to friends and family, including the king of Hermosa.
But before they could be delivered, mere minutes after Liam returned from his trip, his grandparents showed up on the doorstep of the castle.
Angry.
Stopping only to tell Russ the entire family should report to Jozef’s office, they stormed down the marble corridor.
In less than five minutes, everyone had gathered, and the reprimand had begun.
“And no one thought to tell us you were getting married?” his grandfather the former king, Alistair, asked, as he paced in front of Jozef’s desk.
His grandmother, Monique, sat in a chair, her face pinched to the point that she looked like she’d eaten a lemon.
Liam and Demi sat on a sofa near the window. Axel and Heather stood by the door—Axel looking like he was plotting one of his great escapes. Jozef sat at his desk, with Rowan standing behind him off to his right.
Jozef leaned back in his chair. “Things happened quickly.”
Monique glanced sideways at Liam. “So, we heard. From the papers.”
“I should have called,” Rowan said.
“Liam should have called,” Alistair said.
“I’m sorry,” Liam quickly apologized. “In all the hubbub of introducing Demi, getting out in public, throwing together a ball—”
“And falling in love,” Monique said shrewdly.
“And falling in love,” Liam agreed, because his family had decided not to announce that this was an arranged marriage. Unless his father chose to bring them into their confidence, Liam would hold up his end of the deal. “Things just got away from us.”
“And such a quick wedding!” Alistair railed.
Monique glanced at Demi’s middle, as if checking for a pregnancy.
His grandparents thinking his bride was pregnant would have made Liam laugh, except he was tired. They really had had an accelerated relationship. He’d been wooing his future bride as he’d introduced her to his country and performed all the duties of a prince—including a trip where he’d barely slept.
Worse, he didn’t even have the comfort of the intimacy he and Demi should have been sharing. It was like being the lead in a play. An actor who never actually got to sleep with his leading lady. Just pretend he did.
And he was tired.
Weirdly tired.
He’d endured a million things, now he was getting yelled at by his grandparents?
He rose from the sofa. “You know what? I’m tired.”
Everybody stopped talking.
“I’m tired.” He said it again in case somebody hadn’t heard. “I’ll see you all at dinner.”
He rose and left the office. Only when Demi came scurrying out behind him did he realize he’d left her.
He headed for his quarters. She kept up with his long strides.
“Are you okay?”
“I said I was tired.”
“Yeah. We all got that.”
“So?”
“So…I take it your grandparents might not rule the country, but they still rule the family, and they were angry that they weren’t told.”
“Then maybe they shouldn’t live in Paris? Maybe they should live in Prosperita where they’d actually see things for themselves.”

Demi couldn’t help it. She laughed.
He stopped walking. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because I’ve never seen you like this. There’s clearly something wrong.”
He took a breath. Started walking to his quarters again. “I’m tired.”
“Okay.”
She followed him to his quarters. When he reached the door, he paused. “You’re coming inside? Into my quarters…where God only knows what horrors lurk.”
This time, she took a good look at his face. She knew he wasn’t happy that they hadn’t yet slept together and just for the sake of the fun of it, she might have initiated something right now because it would probably be explosive and fun. But she looked in his eyes. They were a tad glassy.
She raised her hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up.”
He sighed, shoved open his door. “Whatever.”
She scrambled inside after him. “Come on. Let me call the kitchen. I’ll get you some chicken soup.”
Heading down the hall, he said, “Okay,” dropping clothes as he went. First his tie hit the floor, then his jacket. He kicked off his shoes. Then tossed his shirt. She found his trousers right outside the door she assumed led to his bedroom.
She knocked once. “Are you okay?”
Nothing.
She knocked again. “Are you okay?”
Nothing.
Concerned, she sucked in a long breath and called, “I’m coming in,” then pushed on the door.
There was a sitting room, of course, then some sort of ante room, then a slight push on another door took her into his bedroom.
He lay sideways across the bed, facedown, in his underwear.
Oh lord, he had a perfect behind.
She raced over and gave his thighs a nudge trying to move him more securely onto the bed. “Come on, let’s get you straightened out, maybe under the covers.”
“No.”
“Really. This can be easy. We’ll get you under the covers and I’ll grab some ibuprofen—” She glanced around. “Do you have a medicine cabinet?”
“Of course, I have a medicine cabinet!”
“Good, then you get yourself under the covers. I’ll get the ibuprofen and call the kitchen for chicken soup.”
He didn’t move. “Great.”
She went into his bathroom and gaped. The walls were marble, and she swore the fixtures were real gold. Lots of bathrooms could pull off a spa-like look, but this bathroom was—regal. There was no other word for it.
It took a minute to find ibuprofen then fill a glass with water. When she returned to his room, he was still face-down on the bed.
“You have to get up to take the meds.”
He said nothing but rolled over and hoisted himself into a sitting position. Demi blinked, keeping her eyes upward, not even peeking at things that were her business, but they weren’t at that point yet.
He took the pills and downed them before he took a long drink of water. As he did that, she pulled back the covers, more than a hint that he needed to get into bed properly. He rose and rebelliously yanked down the covers on the other side then slid into bed.
“I’m going to call your parents and cancel dinner tonight.”
He nestled under the covers. “My grammy’s going to be mad.”
She pressed her mouth together to keep from laughing. “Your grammy will get over it. You need some rest.”
She called Rowan’s cell and told her that Liam appeared to be ill. “I didn’t check his temperature, but when I put my palm on his forehead he was burning up.”
“Did he take something?”
“I made him take some ibuprofen and I’ll call the kitchen for soup. Go ahead with dinner without us. I want to stay here to make sure he’s okay.”
“Want the twins to feed the cats?”
“Yes! Thank you. I didn’t even think of that.”
“We’ll also be sending up a doctor. It’s protocol.”
“Oh.”
“He might only have a cold, but he has to be checked out.”
Now that Rowan mentioned it, Demi was glad it was protocol. “Seriously, it looks like a virus but I’m very happy to have that confirmed.”
“Good. The doctor will be up in a few minutes.”
The doctor turned out to be a middle-aged woman, who arrived with a physician’s assistant and a nurse.
They took his temperature, took blood and inserted an IV.
“Fluids,” the doctor said as she scribbled something on a chart.
“And vitamins,” the male PA added with a smile.
“Once we get the results of his blood work, we’ll know what’s going on. Then treatment might be more specific.”
“It looks like a simple virus.”
The doctor snorted. “I think we’ve learned in the past few years that not all viruses are simple.” She headed for the door. The nurse and PA scrambled to gather up everything.
“I’ll report to the king.”
Demi shook her head. “I can call him.”
The doctor, PA and nurse looked appalled. “There’ll be an official report.”
“Really? For a cold?”
The doctor sighed and walked through the ante room saying, “Even if it’s a common cold there’s an official report.”
Within seconds, the team was gone, and Demi was alone in Liam’s quarters. She ambled into the bedroom to confirm that he was sleeping peacefully—despite the IV in his arm.
He still lay under the covers in only his tidy whities, but the doctor hadn’t said anything about dressing him in royal pajamas, and he didn’t appear to be uncomfortable, so Demi left him as he was.
She turned to the doorway but found it difficult to leave the room. An odd emotion filled her. Not tenderness. More like responsibility. But not cold, hard facts responsibility. More of a need to care for someone she liked.
She strolled to a chair a few feet away from the foot of the huge king-sized bed. As she sat, she noticed a book on the lamp table beside the chair. She picked it up and smiled. He was reading the same bestseller she was.
Careful not to lose his place, she scrolled through the pages to the spot where she’d left off and began reading. But after a few minutes she stopped.
The dichotomy of something as simple as a book amid the majesty of the bedroom suite shifted through her. She’d seen it a million times in his life. One minute, Liam was a normal guy. The next he was a future king. Some people treated him like a friend. Others bowed and scraped.
It must be weird to live like that.
But he never complained. He never behaved as if he himself saw it.
After about an hour, he woke up to go to the bathroom. When he swung his legs off the bed the IV pole shifted and swayed.
“It’s only some fluid, spiked with vitamins,” she said, rushing over to help him.
He brushed her aside and rolled the IV pole to the bathroom on his own.
More weirdness fluttered through her. This man would be her husband in a few weeks, and he didn’t want her helping him.
But why would he? She might act like a queen, but she never behaved like a future wife.
And he’d stopped wanting her to.
He’d lowered his expectations.
Sadness rippled through her.
Still, maintaining some distance between them was for the best.
Wasn’t it?
It was. They could be happily married without either one of them being vulnerable. There was no need for love when there was respect and courtesy.
She would see to it.
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Meet the Author:

Susan Meier spent most of her twenties thinking she was a job-hopper – until she began to write and realised everything that had come before was only research! One of eleven children, with twenty-four nieces and nephews and three kids of her own, Susan lives in Western Pennsylvania with her wonderful husband, Mike, her children, and two over-fed, well-cuddled cats, Sophie and Fluffy.
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