My dear (future) reader,
I've officially lost my mind by getting into writing this story.
Hear me out: I'm a fantasy girl. The closest I've ever gotten to reality was dystopian fiction. It had never been about mafia. Willingly.
So, how did I end up with the idea for A Split Crown?
Well... My friend and I read a Rina Kent book last year. And we both had a lot of strong words about the experience. However, the "dark mafia world" refused to leave me alone. The idea kept haunting me occasionally while I was writing Black Seeds, until I finally decided to give it a try.
So, if you like A Split Crown, thank Rina Kent for it.
If you don't... well, "thank her" anyway.
To be honest, it was quite fun to write. I did some research, talked to friends who are much more competent on the matter than I am, and I'm pretty satisfied with the result.
How can I fit this story into my "fantasy" preferences? Easy. I treat it as contemporary fantasy. There's no way real mafia does any of the things I've described.
I hope so.
And no, despite the mafia, this isn't a dark romance.
So, what is the story about?
An arranged marriage. Simple. The question is whether or not it'll transform into a real one.
The MCs aren't teenagers. They already have their own lives, routines, and expectations, so becoming a family is going to be a problem. 100%.
Who are the main characters?
Sofia and Paul. Mafia heirs who don't shy away from their roles and are already preparing to take over their empires.
I did my best to make them stand out from the typical mafia prince or princess. I hope I've succeeded.
Let me know, please.
And, most importantly,
enjoy the ride.
With love,
FriendlyGhooost
P.S. In the description, you may see a teaser from one of the chapters. For those who want to know what song Sofia was singing, it's the chorus from "Dissociate" by Jutes.
The scene came to me like a flash, and this song practically forced me to make it more extravagant.
I adore it!
YOU ARE READING
A Split Crown | Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance
RomanceCold steel pressed against Sofia's temple. "Hands off her," Paul growled. She turned toward the gunman and smiled. Then she began to sing, swaying to music only she could hear. The barrel traced her forehead, her cheek, her neck, then her lips. She...
