Welcome Stephanie Alexander!
Stephanie will be awarding a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn
commenter during the tour, so comment often to increase your chances of winning. 
http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2013/04/virtual-super-book-blast-cracked.html
BLURB
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.”
AUTHOR BIO
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.
LINKS
This looks so great! Thanks for sharing with us! I adore that cover as well.
Books like this make me wonder whether the author had any influence from friends and family while writing it.
Thanks for the giveaway!
mestith at gmail dot com
Thank you for hosting
Congratulations on your new book, The Cracked Slipper! I love fairytale retellings. Thanks for sharing the excerpt.
Everybody is talking about the unexpected end on the reviews. I’m really curious 😉
Tata
alifeamongbooks (at) gmail (dot) com
Stephanie, what a pleasure to have you here 🙂 Great excerpt!
The story sounds interesting
bn100candg at hotmail dot com
Cant wait to read this it sounds great.
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