Can you imagine dating a member of the royal family? I definitely could. I think I can handle the princess waves to the crowd (I mean, if Anne Hathaway can master it…). And I could definitely get used to the wardrobe! Ugh, those L.K. Bennett nude pumps would never come off! Beloved author Harriet Evans gives us some extra insight into living life as a royal’s plus one in her new ebook original Rules for Dating a Romantic Hero!

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We all need fantasy in our lives. Sometimes that fantasy comes in the form of handcuffs… and sometimes it’s more cream teas and beautiful landscaped lawns. I’m more of the latter myself, which is why my e-novella exclusive, Rules for Dating a Romantic Hero, was such fun to write. Imagine what’s it like being a completely normal girl who just happenes to be dating the most eligible bachelor in Britain today? Someone who owns a huge Downton Abbey-like stately home, is tall and handsome and kind, and whom you love more than you ever thought it possible to love someone? Well, Laura Foster has been going out with Nick, the Marquis of Ranelagh and despite a rocky start (my novel A Hopeless Romantic, published six years ago, is all about Laura and Nick meeting and falling in love, because you don’t meet someone like that every day, do you?) they’ve been together now for three years, on and off. I think you’d need some rules to work out how to deal with the weirdness of a situation like that.

So the first rule is: shoot anyone who compares you to Kate Middleton. I used to find K-Middy a bit bland, to be honest (I’m British. I’m allowed to say that…). Now I’m in complete awe of her. I think she controls everything in a life that must be totally crazy with such grace and humour. She seems like the girl at school who’d be organised and have perfect hair, whereas I was always the one with a broken pencil case and ink stains on my shirt. I don’t understand how she does it, and I think she’s a hard act to follow.

The final rule, Rule Twelve, is: Never walk into a maze unless someone knows the way out. My baby daughter, boyfriend and I got lost in a maze this past summer in a stately home. I’d said, ‘Let’s go to Woburn Abbey on the way home from our holidays, for research.’ Chris said, ‘OK, but no gift shops’. (I can do some damage in the gift shops of stately homes. Tea towels, scented soaps, lovely cut-out paper doll book kits, plants that will die several weeks later – I lose it the moment I step inside one). Then I said, ‘Let’s go into the maze, it’ll be fun.’ Twenty minutes later…not so much fun. But the relief when we worked the right way out was considerable, and we had a gorgeous cream tea afterwards, as though we’d been missing for years instead of a few minutes. Everything’s alright after a cream tea. Maybe that should be the thirteenth, unwritten rule…?