ABOUT THE BOOK
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.
AN EXCERPT
Their host, Sir Robert
Smithwick, rose and gave a toast to the health of his nephew. Other speeches
followed, each more suggestive than the next. She laughed out loud when Dorian
subtly mocked Brian’s inability to hold his liquor. Gregory spoke last, and
gave a surprisingly thoughtful salute to his cousin. She patted his arm when he
sat, and he gave her a tentative smile.
As everyone returned to their
venison and cliff shrimp Eleanor's stepmother tapped her goblet. Mother Imogene
rose and lifted the cup. “I must ask you to pause for just one more moment,”
she said. “I have another announcement.”
“My darling,” she said to Sylvia.
“We’ve all so enjoyed your hospitality this summer. But now my daughter must
remember herself, and rest, for with the winter will arrive a future duke! Our
dear Sylvia is expecting!”
The guests applauded, congratulating
Imogene and Sylvia. Sylvia gazed demurely in her lap, as if embarrassed by the
association with procreation. As for the expectant father, he was nowhere to be
seen. His wife’s entertaining had proved too much for him, and the duke
returned to Harveston for some peace.
Eleanor glanced down the table. Anne
Iris retched into her cup, but it was Dorian’s calm face that inspired her. She
stood and the room quieted. “My dear sister,” she said. “Let me extend my good
wishes.”
Sylvia’s simpering went rigid.
“I will say, Sylvia always had a
flair for the dramatic when we were children. Who knew you would entertain so
many with your widely varied talents? While I have recently been ill, I’ve
heard you neglect no one, from the loftiest lord to the most common stable
hand. We are so fortunate there is one among us who gives so generously of
herself to others. It’s no wonder His Grace, your husband, took his leave. It
must be difficult to share you with so many.”
Imogene’s eyes bulged and her
nostrils flared, while Sylvia gave an uncertain twitter. Eleanor looked at
Dorian again. He winked.
“So I salute you, Your Grace,” she
said.“May your child look just like you. Just as lovely.”
The guests applauded, all the while
hiding their smirks and chuckles in their goblets and napkins. Eleanor sat
down. This time Gregory touched her arm. “Well played,” he said.
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