I'll be continuing this series at the end of the year, but for now, you can enjoy all THREE stories PLUS a bonus story. This series is unlike anything I've ever written before.
Three rich men fulfilling her every dark and forbidden desire.
That was the last thing Madison expected when she left America to report on the royal wedding of the Kingdom of Saltwick.
Meeting the brother of the groom, Winthrop “Win” Bidlake is nothing like what she expected.
One look and he wants to possess her… not just own her but share her with two other smoking hot princes.
It's hard to resist a man from the royal family, serving in the Royal Air Force.
Especially when Madison finds out that his code name “ANACONDA” is more than just a code name…
Winthrop “Win” Bidlake
Codename: ANACONDA
Madison Walton tucked her notebook into her new Michael Kors purse which suddenly felt like a burlap sack when she entered the palace. She couldn't believe that she was here, in an actual palace. One of the few monarchies left in existence continued to capture the public’s attention. And in the age of information, the entire world was glued to the tiny kingdom and the royal wedding set to take place in two days.
Charles Bidlake, heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Saltwick, was set to be married in two days and Madison had the luck of being assigned to the story. It had all happened by chance really. Her boss at The Global Post had selected her for this story after her senior editor, Mikey Potter, had gotten into trouble for missing a deadline.
As the fresh meat in the office, and the only African American woman, Madison expected to get passed over. Again.
But this time, she's been lucky. Standing to her left was Prince Charles’ younger brother, Winthrop Bidlake. He would never take the throne but he'd served in the country’s army for all of his adult life. He was nothing like his older brother. And as he led her through the palace, Madison began to notice more and more differences each second.
“So this,” Winthrop continued, “Is the butler and maid’s quarters.”
“Prince Winthrop,” Madison asked, hoping to tease a bit more intrigue out of the repetitive tour, “Were these quarters formerly slave quarters?”
He ignored her argumentative tone and smirked.
“No,” He replied.
So much for intrigue.
He continued, “Slavery was never legal in our Kingdom. And please, call me Win.”
He paused and looked at Madison, looking her up and down with a look she couldn't quite place.
She looked down bashfully.
“I was told to address you using your formal title.”
Winthrop grinned, “And I'm telling you to call me Win. Are you really going to disobey an order?”
Now, Madison couldn't tell if he was joking or not. But she felt like the polite thing to do would be to just call the prince what he wished to be called.
“All right Win,” Madison replied, “Is there anything in this palace you think would be of particular interest to Americans?”
Perhaps the more direct approach would lead to a better story. Madison’s probes for some juicy gossip had all been averted. Win was either very good at keeping secrets or Royal life was far less interesting than she had presumed.
Win kept walking and she followed him throughout the East wing of the palace. He seemed to be deep in thought, allowing Madison more time to get her bearings.
She looked over at the Prince and her heart fluttered. While she'd done everything to keep things professional with him, it was hard to deny how exhilarating the entire experience was.
Winthrop Bidlake was an utter heartthrob. He was well over six-feet tall with the Bidlake family traits that had made the royal family such a subject of international attention. His wheat blonde hair shone golden in the light that filtered in through the floor to ceiling windows. In his semi-formal apparel, his biceps still managed to bulge through. His military conditioning had clearly left his body in peak condition.
And he had a smile to die for. His smirk, as mischievous as it was had a flirtatious edge to it that Madison couldn't resist.
Too bad he wasn't flirting with her -- now that would be her ego talking if she assumed he was. Win could have anyone in the world that he wanted. Any blonde haired Swedish heiress or Germanic princess from another distant kingdom.
His flirtatious smile had to be a figment of Madison’s active imagination. An imagination she would have to keep in check for the sake of professionalism.
The tour had gone on for a while. Madison realized that Win was no longer interested in giving her the entire boring history of his family’s winter palace. They weren't talking about her story at all. Win had turned the tables and was now entirely focused on her.
He asked Madison where she studied journalism. Columbia. How long she'd worked with her company. Six months. If she had a boyfriend. Not anymore. If she was interested in marriage. Hell no.
It took Madison a while to realize how Win had turned the tables. While she knew nothing about him, he'd managed to unravel her entire history, splaying it before him so he could understand her.
“I hope you enjoyed the tour,” he remarked when the tour had finally ended.
“Uhhh, yes,” Madison replied, unsure of how to respond given that the second half of the tour had felt more like a first date -- minus the part where she was in control.
“Then I should introduce you to some of the other guests.”
“Oh?”
Win smirked, “Perhaps you will find a juicier story by speaking with some of them.”
Madison felt her cheeks turn hot. She had not meant to give Win the impression that she found his tour boring.
Seeing her awkward hesitation, Win rested his palm on her shoulder.
“Don't worry Madison. I find royal history boring too.”
The British lilt in his accent made her heart flutter. No response came to mind. Win’s hand resting on her shoulder had sent surges of electricity through her body. When he moved his hand away, the spot where he touched her still burned hot.
Was she going crazy? Had that been interest or was that just him being polite. He was a prince after all. Still, Madison didn't remember hosting require such physical proximity.
“The palace is lovely,” she offered weakly
Win took a step closer to her and replied, “And so are you.”
Now that was unmistakably flirting. But what did he mean by it, if anything. Madison’s mouth hung open as she struggled for words to say. She had never felt so out of control when dealing with anything.
I'm supposed to be the journalist. Madison wondered to herself. So why do I feel so wrapped around his finger already?
Winthrop took her to the library in the West Wing where a few of the other early guests were relaxing. The room possessed a bizarre mixture of stiffness and cozy allure. Leather couches, soft Persian rugs and the smell of brandy warmed the room. Stiff stuffed deer and hunting trophies gave the room a more serious air.
A fireplace glowed at the edge of the room, crackling loudly as a maid in a black uniform stoked the fire with a red hot poker. Win brought Madison to the couches circled around the fireplace.
“Boys, I have someone to introduce to you,” Win began.
The two men that Win had brought her to looked up, uninterested until they realized that the “someone” was Madison.
“Is she from the village?” The blond one asked, a devious smirk immediately inching across his face.
Win glowered at him.
“No. She’s a journalist here to report on the royal wedding. Her name is Madison.”
He pointed to each of the men.
“Madison, this is Diego. And this is Hans.”
Diego was even more imposing than Win was, even whilst seated. His massive arms gave her the impression he could squeeze the life out of a bear with his bare hands. Madison knew who he was, but up close, the prince looked even more imposing. Diego Mendoza hailed from the Monarchy of Paracito, a small sovereign nation off the coast of Spain.
Hans was less imposing than both men, but still quite muscular and tall. What he didn’t have in bulk, he made for in his face. He had the most beautiful face that Madison had ever seen with angular cheekbones and cerulean eyes. Hans Wittelsbach hailed from the Province of Rhineburg, a small self-governed area of Northern Germany.
Hans stood up and reached for Madison’s hand. Reluctantly, she reached out to shake his hand. Hans squeezed tightly and held on long after Madison wanted to let go.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
His German accent and his deep voice made the simple greeting… sexy. Madison looked away shyly. Diego stood up and took her hand, pressing it to his lips.
“Agreed. It’s a pleasure.”
As he kissed her hand, Madison noticed that both Diego’s hands and lips were radiating warmth. His skin was a gentle tanned color compared to both Hans and Win’s. His hair was thick and brown with the strong scent of cloves and spicy cinnamon. Madison felt her heart jump as he kissed her.
She couldn’t understand what was going on here, but she had a feeling that Win hadn’t introduced her to these three men to give her a good scoop for her report. The men sat down and kept staring at Madison, almost like they were analyzing her and testing her. (But for what?)
Even Win had his eyes on her. Madison remembered only a few moments before he’d told her that she was “lovely” — a more posh compliment than she’d ever received.
Madison wondered if their stares had anything to do with just how “lovely” they found her.
“Why don’t you sit down for a moment?” Hans offered.
The hunger in his voice was difficult for him to conceal. Diego cast him a glare, but Win smiled, holding onto Madison’s arm.
“I need to show my guest to her quarters. I’m sure she’ll want to rest. With the wedding in a few days, she’ll be busy.”
Hans snickered at the last part of Win’s statement, causing Diego to elbow him hard. (And not very subtly.)
Win walked her away from the library and down the hall.
“What was that about?” Madison asked.
Win’s face turned bright red, “They’re military buddies of mine…”
“I know,” Madison interrupted, “Diego Mendoza and Hans Wittelsbach.”
“Tabloids?”
Madison shook her head, “I’ve done my research. I know everything there is to know about the few remaining monarchies.”
Win chuckled, “Not everything.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He didn’t answer. After a few minutes, Madison pressed him again.
“Why did you introduce me to them? Will they help me build a story about this palace? Is there a diplomatic relationship between their kingdoms and Saltwick?”
Win stopped in front of a large wooden door.
“You ask a lot of questions Madison.”
Madison folded her arms, “I am here as a journalist.”
Win grinned, “Right. Well, journalist or not, you’re young and you’re in a European palace. At the very least you can try to enjoy yourself.”
“Are you going to show me my room?”
Madison was growing exhausted from Win’s riddles. He nodded and pushed open the door he had stopped in front of.
“Your quarters are here.”
He took a step inside. Madison gasped when she entered the room. She didn’t mean to sound gauche but her temporary living arrangements were five times nicer than her apartment at home. She’d worked five years to afford her urban one bedroom apartment and within a moment, Win’s guest quarters outshone it.
Win took her to the bathroom with the walk-in shower, the bedroom outfitted with a four-poster canopy bed, the small kitchen with the stocked fridge, kettle, tea and fresh coffee beans.
“This is gorgeous. And just for me?”
“Just for you.”
“What about the other journalists?”
Win grinned, “They’re staying elsewhere.”
“How are you housing forty other journalists in quarters as big as these?”
Win took a step closer to her and tucked a strand of Madison’s hair behind her ear.
“We aren’t. These quarters are just for you.”
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The BWWM Dark Fantasy series contains THREE main books (as of Nov. 2017) and one BONUS book. I wrote this series of BWWM books for African American readers who enjoyed MMFM romance novels by top romance authors but wanted to see representation for BLACK WOMEN!