"Fake Dating the Italian Heir" by Ally Blake

What if... Gaston was the hero?

Find out in this this gorgeous, chocolate lab, Italian vintner, small town hero meets black cat energy, romance-only book store heroine set in a quaint, wholesome winery town, and full to the brim with flirt-fighting, fake dating, book boyfriend, autumn leaves and pollen floating in beams of sunshine!

It’s a banter-core, sugar and spice, sweep you off your feet Romance with a capital R. For more fun in the town of Vermillion, check out DATING DEAL WITH THE ITALIAN.

Links coming soon...

EXCERPT

“Nico! Oh, thank goodness. Everyone, back away. Nico is here!”

Niccolo Rossi had been ambling down the main street of Vermillion, enjoying the mid-autumn sunshine on his face, drinking in the scents of eucalypt and wild rosemary from the front garden of the Barrels & Blooms Garden Centre, notes of fresh sourdough and preserved summer fruits wafting from the Yeast of Eden bakery, when he heard his name on the breeze.

Then he was halfway across the road, bounding towards the median strip of golden elms that cleaved Main Street in two by the time Mrs Constantine––the wiry, septuagenarian owner of The Savvy Sausage Butchery––had waved back the small gathered crowd.

“Oh, Nico!” cried Mrs Constantine, as he sprang up onto the verge.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“It’s Basil.” Mrs Constantine pointed a crooked finger to a branch half way up a tree where a tuxedo cat sat licking its paw; clearly unperturbed by all the attention.

“Is she serious?” murmured Aurora, Nico’s younger sister, as she pulled up puffing beside him.

Nico didn’t bother looking at his sister; the A-grade eye roll was patent in her voice. For while Aurora was only back in Vermillion from her European adventures for a visit, this was Nico’s town. Literally and figuratively. Not only did he oversee the entirety of the Vermillion Hill vineyard, he was heir to the Rossi family estate that owned half the commercial property in the picturesque town at its feet.

“Mrs Constantine,” said Nico, as he squinted through the rays of sunshine darting through the imposing branches above. “You do know Basil spends quite a bit of time in this particular tree, do you not?”

Mrs Constantine demurred, “I worry. He is all I have.”

Nico glanced across the street to where Mr Constantine stood in the large window of the butcher shop, wiping his hands on a towel. The older man flapped a ‘she’s all yours’ hand Nico’s way before disappearing from sight.

So, Nico rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, allowed himself a brief moment to wonder how he got himself into such follies, looked up in search of the path of least resistance, and hauled himself into the tree.

* * *

“They swooned!” said Aurora, once Basil was back in Mrs Constantine’s cooing embrace.

“Hardly,” said Nico, brushing leaves and twigs from his clothes as they rejoined their earlier mission, checking in with the last of his family’s tenants; Laila Vale, owner of the town’s lone book store.

Had he deliberately left her till last? Most definitely. Did he do so each and every time he did the rounds?

Absolutely. Was he looking forward to introducing Laila to his sister? Hell, no.

“One woman swayed,” Aurora went on. “Another gasped. Yet another tugged on my sleeve, asked if I could set you up with her daughter.”

Ignoring the question in her tone, Nico moved around behind Aurora, so that he ended up streetside.

“Come on!” she cried, hands beseeching. “You must have noticed.”

Fine, Nico had noticed. It just wasn’t all that noteworthy. As head of the family that owned much of the town, as well as the renowned winery that remained the lynchpin of Vermillion’s success, Nico was used to being leaned on. And cheered. And, well, adored profusely on occasion.

It wasn’t why he did what he did. That came down to a sense of duty to this place, as it had to his father before him.

Aurora bumped him with her shoulder. “Do you think if they knew you wore a Superman cape everywhere as a kid it would mitigate the hero worship? Or ramp it up to Harry Styles level idolisation?”

Nico lengthened his strides. “How long did you say you were staying?”

Aurora jogged to catch up. “Someone in this town has to keep your ego in check. I consider it a public service.”
As luck would have it, they had reached the one place in town where augmenting his ego was not a problem.

At the front of the book shop, a white picket fence drooped under the weight of a mass of wild, deep-purple bougainvillea. The front garden leading to the small weatherboard cottage in which the shop resided was a luscious, overgrown, abundance of green. And yet it was the only shopfront on the entire block without a single iconic grape vine trailing over a trellis or an eave.

At first glance the aesthetic of the book store appeared to fit with the wholesome, tourist-friendly Vermillion brand, take one step inside and it soon became clear that the proprietor was not on the same page as the rest of the town.

Beside him Aurora yawned.

“If you’ve had enough,” he said, seeing an out, “we can head home now.”

Aurora linked her elbow through his. “I want to immerse myself in all the unhinged grandeur this town relishes. While I can,” she added, sending a quick, complex glance his way.

Nico squeezed her hand against his side. For the night before, only hours after Aurora’s arrival, their mamma had dropped a bomb.

They had barely sat down with a glass of pre-dinner wine when she’d said, "È giunto il momento per me di tornare a casa."

The time has come for me to go home.

After twenty years in South Australia, Celia Rossi planned to move back to the Rossi family estate in Siena, where their father was buried. Leaving the future of the Rossi family holdings in that corner of the world––the fate of the vineyard, and the town that relied on its patronage––entirely up to Nico.

“Oh wow,” said Aurora, eyes widening when she noticed where they had stopped. “I can see why you saved this place for last!”

Tiny pink lights twinkled through the panes of the front picture window, bouncing off a bright array of pansies waving happily in planter boxes below.

A flash of movement behind the glass sent a spike of electricity down Nico’s spine. The surfeit of battle-ready energy, normal preparation for coming face to face with the book shop owner.

“I can’t believe this used to be the Vine and Dime,” Aurora said, pressing open the flower-laden front gate Laila refused to let him fix. “I’d half expected the place to be condemned by now.”

Narrowing his eyes at the building, Nico had to admit it was much improved since the book store had moved in. The little old couple who had leased the cottage from their father, had run the place like a hoarder’s haven. Insurance and health and safety concerns aside, Aldo Rossi had kept rent low, taken care of maintenance himself, and dropped off the occasional pasta bake to make sure they ate well. Showing Nico what it meant to not only speak to a strong sense of comfort and community, but to mean it.

Then, when the little old couple had retired, moving to be near their daughter in the Adelaide Hills, the very next day a stranger had rumbled into town; a vision of blonde waves, big blue eyes a man could get lost in, va va voom curves stepping out of a bright red Mini-Cooper. And for Nico nothing had felt quite so comfortable since.

“Forbidden Fruits Story Emporium.” Aurora read the shop name written on the hanging sign next to the pale pink front door. “That’s awesome.”

“Is it now?” Nico muttered under his breath, as he forced himself up the front steps.

For of all the ways his relationship with this tenant was contentious, the most frustrating was her refusal to give her shop a name that fit with Vermillion town lore – every place on Main Street having a wholesome name that included a wine-adjacent pun.

While the celebrated Vermillion Hill vineyard was a drawcard on its own, the kitsch store names were the extra something that sent tourists flocking down the hill into the town proper. Yet, from the moment Laila had signed the lease, they had been embroiled in a tug of war over what the name of her romance-only book shop might be.

Nico had offered up dozens of ideas. Bubbly Bibliophile. Rosé Romance. After suggesting Harvest Hearts Laila complained it had an ‘organ donor chop shop’ vibe that was likely best avoided. After which she’d come back him with Tipsy Tales and The Bound Brut, before she’d settled on Forbidden Fruits, which, by then, had felt like the lesser of many evils.

That was eighteen odd months ago now. Had he admitted defeat? Not a chance. The town’s success was just that important. And if that meant visiting her shop once or twice a week, with new options in tow, then that’s what he had to do.

“Come on.” Aurora grinned over her shoulder as she opened the front door.

A bell tinkled to herald their arrival. It always made Nico feel like sneezing, as if the thing was sprinkling fairy dust. And while Aurora spun in a circle, mouth agape in clear delight, Nico’s shoulders lifted up around his ears.

The walls were now a cotton candy pink, the floor covered in such a large black and white check tile it gave Alice in Wonderland vibes, and the ceiling was draped in enough fairy lights to make a guy squint. Under the front picture-window sat a jade-green velvet couch big enough to lie on, covered in an excess of fluffy throw blankets, and by it was a large coffee table strewn in vintage magazines with glamorous old movie stars, or buff moustachioed dudes on motorbikes on the covers.

Then there were the books.

Floor to ceiling, lined up neatly in a mish mash of thrifted shelves, alongside what his mother might call ‘collectibles’ – gilt-framed art, packs of cards, fancy book ends, all of which teetered just on the edge of propriety.

For the Forbidden Fruits Story Emporium didn’t just sell romance novels, it sold romance novels. The kinds with bright, cheeky cartoon covers, or couples who looked a moment away from tearing one another’s clothes off. Then there were the men with hooves in lieu of shoes, with tentacles, with kilts suggestively split to the upper thigh.

When Aurora reached a hand towards a cover with a sombre-eyed, shirtless beefcake, Nico muttered, “Don’t. Touch. Anything.”

Aurora glanced back at him. “Do you think I’ll get cooties? Or ideas?”

Nico shot her a look, and, arms in the air in surrender, she disappeared deeper into the store.

It it wasn’t the books he had a problem with, or the ‘ideas’ within. He was Italian after all; an appreciator of wine, women, and song. And while he wasn’t seeing anyone that minute––not since ending things with a travelling sales rep when she moved to the Adelaide Hills, a little too close for comfort––chances were he’d gotten up to much of what went on between those covers at one point or another in his thirty-one years.

It was the fact that the store so overtly refused to meet the Vermillion promise. All of which could have been ameliorated if the stubborn, frustrating, intentionally-obstructive owner listened to his suggestions. Denying him, defying him, seemed to be the highlight of her week. Now he could no longer walk past this part of town without feeling a scratchy kind of heat banked inside him; like a match waiting to strike.

Speaking of the owner, he usually didn’t get much further than a step inside the door before she appeared, as if from a pink puff of smoke that smelled both sweet and tart, like hot apple crumble.

As if he’d summoned her, a sardonic voice drawled, “Well, if it isn’t Constable Goodboy.”

Nico took in a bracing breath, then turned to find Laila standing, arms crossed, by the door to the stock room at the very back of her store.

BUY THE BOOK TO READ ON!

One of the most fun things in writing FAKE DATING THE ITALIAN HEIR was having the chance to mention some of my favourite romance novels and romance writers. For those who've read the book? How many did you pick? How many have you read?

As for Laila's favourite book - Steeling Harts by DeVante Gray - that one is entirely in my head. for fun, check out the cover and the full blurb below.

In a distant galaxy where human colonists and ancient alien civilizations coexist, Elvie Hart has lived a sheltered life on the isolated farming planet of Incandescia-3. When her family’s peaceful world is threatened, and her secret identity – one even she does not know – is about to be uncovered, she is thrust into the arms—literally—of the most unlikely protector: Tyrrano, a towering, battle-hardened, alien, combat robot with unearthly charms.

Programmed to protect Elvie at all costs, Tyrrano finds himself conflicted. For she awakens something deep within his circuitry—an insatiable, longing he never thought possible, if he’d ever thought at all.

Swept across galaxies, escaping a multitude of enemies, Elvie, captivated by Tyrrano’s raw strength and undeniable allure, finds herself yearning for experiences she's only ever read about in forbidden books. While Tyrrano wrestles with the urge to claim the innocent he is predetermined to defend.
Enemies closing in, passion careening out of control, Elvie must decide: can she trust her heart to a machine made for war?

He was built for battle. She was meant for more. Together, they will rewrite the stars.

M O R E B O O K S

I T A L I A N S O F V E R M I L L I O N
DATING DEAL WITH THE ITALIAN
FAKE DATING THE ITALIAN HEIR

ALWAYS THE BRIDESMAID
SECRETLY MARRIED TO A PRINCE (aka OUTBACK PRINCESS)

B I L L I O N - D O L L A R B A C H E L O R S E R I E S
WHIRLWIND FLING TO BABY BOMBSHELL
FAKE ENGAGEMENT WITH THE BILLIONAIRE
CINDERELLA ASSISTANT TO BOSS'S BRIDE
(winner of the 2024 ROMANTIC BOOK THE YEAR Award for Best Short Contemporary)

R E C E N T R E L E A S E S
THE WEDDING FAVOUR
THE MILLIONAIRE'S MELBOURNE PROPOSAL

B A C K L I S T
DREAM VACATION, SURPRISE BABY
BROODING REBEL TO BABY DADDY
CRAZY ABOUT HER IMPOSSIBLE BOSS
A WEEK WITH THE BEST MAN
HIRED BY THE MYSTERIOUS MILLIONAIRE
AMBER AND THE ROGUE PRINCE
RESCUING THE ROYAL RUNAWAY BRIDE
TELL ME TRUE
LOVE ME TENDER
RESISTING THE MUSICIAN
KISS ME QUICK
HER HOTTEST SUMMER YET
THE DANCE OFF
FAKING IT TO MAKING IT
THE SECRET WEDDING DRESS
50 DAYS WITH ROSE
PIPPA BARED ALL
THE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT
THE WEDDING DATE/THE ROGUE WEDDING GUEST
MILLIONAIRE DAD'S SOS
GETTING RED-HOT WITH THE ROGUE
DATING THE REBEL TYCOON
A NIGHT WITH THE SOCIETY PLAYBOY
THE MAGNATE'S INDECENT PROPOSAL
STEAMY SURRENDER (Encore coming soon!)
GETTING DOWN TO BUSINESS (Encore coming soon!)
HIRED: THE BOSS'S BRIDE
FALLING FOR THE REBEL HEIR (Encore coming soon!)
MILLIONAIRE TO THE RESCUE (Encore coming soon!)
BILLIONAIRE ON HER DOORSTEP
MEANT-TO-BE MOTHER
WANTED: OUTBACK WIFE
A FATHER IN THE MAKING
THE SHOCK ENGAGEMENT
A MOTHER FOR HIS DAUGHTER
HOW TO MARRY A BILLIONAIRE
MARRIAGE MAKEOVER
MARRIAGE MATERIAL
THE WEDDING WISH

F R E E R E A D
SUMMER LOVIN’
TALL, DARK & FETTUCINI

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