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Victorian Scoundrel
by Stephanie Burkhart
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
It's 2011 and
compressed natural gas has taken over from the coal producing steam machines of
the Victorian Age. Alice Windsor, Princess of York, follows her mischief-making
cousin, Edmund of Wales, back to 1851 where Prince Albert is hosting Britain's
Great Exhibition.
Alice soon finds
herself over her head in trouble. Edmund is determined to help Prince Albert
build a dirigible and the prime minister appears intent in preventing her from
stopping Edmund. Alice knows it's too early for the massive flying machine to
take to the air. Complicating matters is the passionate Grayson Kentfield, Earl
of Swinton. Alice can't stop her pulse from pounding when she's near him.
Can Alice give
her heart to a man from the past while working to stop Edmund from changing
history?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
Tired
and thirsty, she finally made it to the courtyard. Edmund was nowhere to be
found. She should have expected it, really. No doubt he was in the palace
filling their great-grandfather's head with forward-thinking ideas. She crossed
her arms, staring at the steps. Several carriages waited nearby. No one in
their right mind would let her into the palace looking like she did -- like she
had just stepped out of the gutter.
"Excuse
me, who are you?"
Alice
spun around to find herself face-to-face with two gentlemen who stood near one
of the waiting carriages. One gentleman was older, Alice guessed in his
fifties, one younger. The older gentleman stared at her like she truly was a
guttersnipe, but the younger one -- he was tall, with chiseled cheeks and
sensitive hazel eyes. His broad chest filled his suit well and he measured her
with a cool, appraising look that hinted at... appreciation. An uncomfortable
feeling washed over her. Never had a man's stare made her feel so... warm.
"Well?"
asked the older gentleman.
Alice
straightened her posture with her usual royal dignity and took off her glasses
as she always did when she introduced herself. "I am Her Royal Highness,
Princess Alice of York."
The
men looked at each other, at her, then back at themselves. She wasn't sure if
they were befuddled, confused, or wanted to laugh. Finally, the older gentleman
spoke. "Princess Alice is seven years old."
Alice
bit the inside of her lip, realizing she had totally forgotten where she was
due to the younger gentleman's attention. She slid her glasses back on.
"Simply call me Alice -- Alice Windsor."
"And
you may call me Prime Minister."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Author Bio: Stephanie Burkhart is a 911 dispatcher for LAPD. She was born and raised in Manchester, New
Hampshire. After serving 11 years in the
US Army she currently calls Castaic, California her home. Stephanie was married
in Denmark in 1991 and has two young sons. She adores chocolate, is addicted to
coffee and enjoys early morning walks.
She's also an assistant den leader for her son's Cub Scout den and is a
Boy Scout mom. She writes paranormal, contemporary, and steampunk romance and
has two children's books published with 4RV Publishing.
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