When Eleanor Brice
unexpectedly wins the heart of Gregory Desmarais, Crown Prince of Cartheigh,
she's sure she's found her happily-ever-after. Unfortunately, Prince Charming
has a loose grip on his temper, a looser grip on his marriage vows, and a tight
grip on the bottle.
Eight years of
mistreatment, isolation and clandestine book learning hardly prepare Eleanor for
life at Eclatant Palace, where women are seen, not heard. According to Eleanor's
eavesdropping parrot, no one at court appreciates her unladylike tendency to
voice her opinion. To make matter worse, her royal fiancé spends his last night
of bachelorhood on a drunken whoring spree. Before the ink dries on her marriage
proclamation Eleanor realizes that she loves her husband's best friend, former
soldier Dorian Finley.
Eleanor can't resist
Dorian's honesty, or his unusual admiration for her intelligence, and soon both
are caught in a dangerous obsession. She drowns her confusion in charitable
endeavors, but the people's love can't protect her from her feelings. When a
magical crime endangers the bond between unicorns, dragons, and the royal
family, a falsely accused Eleanor must clear her own name to save her life. The
road toward vindication will force a choice between hard-won security and an
impossible love.
The Cracked Slipper is
a book club friendly fairytale retelling in the vein of Gregory Maguire, with a
dash of romance. Set in a pseudo-renaissance, corset-and-petticoats enchanted
kingdom, The Cracked Slipper brings a magical twist to women's
fiction.
******** EXCERPT *********
"He tugged at his
earlobe. “I can’t, Mistress, and I would, just to get you out of this hallway,
but Prince Gregory is not here.”
“Not here? What do you
mean? It has to be—”
“Two in the
morning.”
“Two in the morning,”
she said. Something icy formed in her chest, and it wasn’t from the cold tiles
beneath her feet. “I see. Well, I’ll be going.” She turned
slowly.
“I’m sorry, Mistress.”
The gruff voice followed her, but she didn’t want to turn around and see the
sympathy on his face. She started up the steps but stopped
midway.
There must be an
explanation. She could not face tomorrow not knowing. She would wait and see,
and it would all be revealed. Probably just some late-night meeting with his
advisers, a problem that must solved before the wedding. She would wait until he
returned, and then go back to bed happy.
Exhaustion caught up
with her and she sat on the bottom step out of view of the guard. She wrapped
her arms around her knees and in spite of the cold she nodded off. After some
time, maybe ten minutes or maybe an hour, she heard voices. She sat
up.
They were male voices,
and some of them sounded familiar. She rocked forward on her numb toes and
peered around the corner again.
She recognized Dorian
first, and then Brian, Raoul, and several of Gregory’s other friends. Dorian
struggled to hold someone up. Her heart sank as she recognized Gregory’s auburn
hair.
He could barely stand.
His legs kept buckling underneath him. Each time they crumpled he reached up
with both arms. He grabbed Dorian’s neck and nearly dragged them both to the
floor. The other men kept up a constant stream of harassment. She lost track of
who said what, but their words rang painfully clear.
“What’s that Gregory?
Those two Talessee girls where too much for you?”
“We should have quit
after the redhead. She took care of him quite nicely.”
“Did you see the tits
on that one?”
“Old Greg was probably
seeing four of them. He was so smashed he was already falling
over.”
“But his flagpole was
standing up!” They all roared with laughter.
“A fine tribute to
Cartheigh!”
“Tell me, Gregory, how
will your sweet little maid compare with those last two?”
Gregory’s head swung
up. “See, what you boys don’t realize…is I can have the sweet little maid and
still bang as many whores as I see fit. Benefits of the
crown.”
Eleanor could barely
breathe. She head Dorian’s voice for the first time. “All right,
all
right, let’s get you
to bed or you’re liable to pass out on the altar.”
Gregory spoke again.
“And you know, boys, little Eleanor is not quite as sweet as you may think— I’ve
already had my hands on her—”
“Enough, Gregory,”
Dorian said. He thrust the stuttering prince off on Brian and Raoul. He took the
keys from the guard, who gazed resolutely at the wall.
“Tonight was just
practice for tomorrow—”
“Enough!”Dorian
exclaimed.
Eleanor couldn’t take
any more. Without any further thought she stepped out into the
hallway.
They all froze, a
bunch of possums blinded by a woodsmen’s torch. Eleanor couldn’t speak. She
simply stood there, staring at Gregory strung between Brian and Raoul like a
pair of wet stockings left out to dry. Her hands clenched at her sides in tight
fists. Blood roared in her ears, but her eyes were dry.
Dorian finally broke
the silence.“Eleanor.”
Gregory cocked his
head. “Sweetheart, how good to see you.”
His body jerked and he
vomited. It covered his boots, and the sentry’s. The guard never moved. The
acidic scent hit Eleanor’s nose and broke her paralysis. She fled up the steps.
She heard Dorian calling after her but she didn’t stop. She brushed past her own
sentry, threw the door open with both hands, closed it and drew the latch. She
leaned against it. She had left her candle in the hallway, but she’d built the
fire well and it still burned. She jumped at a gentle tap on the door behind
her.
Dorian’s voice through
the thick wood loosened the tears that had not come downstairs. “Eleanor,” he
said, “please open the door. Let me explain.”
“No, go
away.”
“He’s just drunk. It’s
just talk among men. He didn’t mean any of it.”
“So where were you
all? You weren’t out pitching lawn bolls!”
“I don’t deny it, or
defend it. But Gregory loves you. He never meant to hurt you.
”
She leaned her head
against the door. There was no way she could open it. “I don’t know what to
believe,” she said. And then, louder, “Please go away, Dorian.
Please.”
“As you
wish.”
She sensed him
standing on the other side, and then his footsteps moved down the
hallway."
Stephanie Alexander
grew up in the suburbs of Washington, DC, the oldest of three children. Drawing,
writing stories, and harassing her parents for a pony consumed much of her
childhood. After graduating from high school in 1995 she earned a Bachelor of
Arts in Communications from the College of Charleston, South Carolina. She
returned to Washington, DC, where she followed a long-time fascination with
sociopolitical structures and women’s issues to a Master of Arts in Sociology
from the American University. She spent several years as a Policy Associate at
the International Center for Research on Women, a think-tank focused on women’s
health and economic advancement.
Stephanie embraced
full-time motherhood after the birth of the first of her three children in 2003.
After six wonderful years buried in diapers and picture books she returned to
her childhood passion and wrote her own fairytale. Her family put down permanent
southern roots in Charleston in 2011. Stephanie is an adjunct professor of
Sociology at the College of Charleston.
twitter:
@crackedslipper
********* GIVEAWAY **********
Stephanie will be awarding a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.
Please make sure you leave an email address in case you are the lucky winner. For more chances to enter you can follow the tour HERE
4 comments:
Thank you for hosting
The story sounds interesting
bn100candg at hotmail dot com
Cant wait to read this it sounds great.
flanagan@mebtel.net
Thanks for the chance!!! This sounds great!
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