BOOK INFORMATION
TITLE – King Arthur’s Sister in Washington’s Court
AUTHOR – Kim Iverson Headlee
GENRE – Science Fiction/Fantasy Time-Travel Romance
PUBLICATION DATES:
– 1 November 2014 (ebook, illustrated)
– February 2015 (audiobook, performed by Caprisha Page)
– November 2015 (hardcover, featuring more than 100 illustrations)
LENTH (Pages/# Words) – (350 pages/70K words)
PUBLISHER – Lucky Bat Books
COVER ARTIST – Jennifer Doneske
ILLUSTRATORS – Jennifer “The Royal Portraitist” Doneske and Tom “The Creature King” Doneske
BOOK BLURB
Morgan le Fay, 6th-century Queen of Gore and the only major
character not killed off by Mark Twain in A
Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, vows revenge upon the Yankee
Hank Morgan. She casts a spell to take her to 1879 Connecticut so she may
waylay Sir Boss before he can travel back in time to destroy her world. But the
spell misses by 300 miles and 200 years, landing her in the Washington, D.C.,
of 2079, replete with flying limousines, hovering office buildings,
virtual-reality television, and sundry other technological marvels.
Whatever is a time-displaced queen of magic and minions to
do? Why, rebuild her kingdom, of course—two kingdoms, in fact: as Campaign Boss
for the reelection of American President Malory Beckham Hinton, and as owner of
the London Knights world-champion baseball franchise.
Written as though by the old master himself, King Arthur’s Sister in Washington’s Court
by Mark Twain as channeled by Kim Iverson Headlee offers laughs, love, and
a candid look at American society, popular culture, politics, baseball...and
the human heart.
BUY & TBR LINKS
AMAZON KINDLE US – AMAZON KINDLE CA – AMAZON KINDLE UK –
BARNES & NOBLES NOOK – ITUNES – KOBO – SMASHWORDS
EXCERPT
Chapter
XI: The Queen in Search of a Baseball Club
CLARICE
HELPED ME pack my clothing and accessories for the relocation to London: just
what I would need for the first brace of weeks, which amounted to eight large
traveling cases, one of which was devoted to my hair accoutrements and
cosmetics. Not long after arriving in this century, Clarice had introduced me
to these wonderful products, which allowed me to create the same visual effect
as I had done for decades with the aid of magic; now you sit privy to the
secret of how I could cast ever so many enchantments for President Malory and
remain looking as glorious as ever.
While
I was yet sorting through my garments deciding which to bring and which to
leave, my thoughts turned toward a leaving of another sort. I must have
appeared sorrowful, for of a sudden Clarice asked if aught ailed me.
“I
shall miss you, Clarice, when I get to London.” Since that answer represented
only half the truth, I hurried on with: “And yet I know that you shall perform
your duties in continuing to oversee my office here in Washington to the utmost
of your considerable abilities.”
That
made her smile, and she thanked me for the compliment, but her look turned
shrewd. “I imagine you’ll miss President Hinton, too.”
“Of
course I shall. She has become as a sister to me.”
I
resumed examination of the dress I had been holding, a sexy little black thing
that I would have loved to have worn only for Accolon…
“Please
tell me about him,” said Clarice.
“I
beg your pardon?”
The
shrewd look was back. Mayhap it had never left. “Sir Accolon. Queen Morgan, you
have not—um, partnered with any man of this century more often than once to my
certain knowledge, since I manage your schedule. I suspect that you have not
yet found anyone you like, let alone love, as well as he. No one of this era
could make you go all moony-eyed while looking at a dress; therefore, you must
be thinking about Accolon. So, please tell me about him.”
Ha.
I knew I had chosen her as my trusted adviser for good reason, and I rewarded
her accordingly. As the memories swirled about in my mind, making me yearn even
more acutely for Accolon’s company, I said:
“He
was a knight with very few peers during his lifetime, excepting only Sir
Launcelot and Sir Gawaine. And my brother—those three were the only knights who
ever bested him in single combat. So naturally, he was big—in all parts and
portions—and muscular, and very strong, yet as a lover he was no brute, but as
tender as any virgin maid could ever wish for. His intellect was nearly as keen
as mine, as was his eagerness to assist me in righting the wrongs inflicted
upon me by my brother. He had hair as glossy black as a raven’s wing, which he
kept short-cropped in the old Roman style; he once said it was more comfortable
under the helmet than having masses of hair stuffed up under and making the
head sweat overmuch. It had a fine curl to it that I found most endearing. His
eyes were an unforgettable shade of blue, and he had a strong chin that he kept
clean-shaven…Lord God in heaven! Who on earth is that?”
While
I had been discoursing on Accolon’s virtues, Clarice had activated her screen,
which was now displaying the image of a man who could have been my dead lover’s
twin.
Clarice
grinned. “You said the other day that you wanted to find another general
manager for the Knights. This man is Alexander Leroy ‘Sandy’ Carter, former WBF
second baseman and 2073 Tournament MVP for the Connecticut Yankees. Since his
retirement as a player, he has served in various capacities for several teams,
including as a GM. He is a renowned expert in all matters baseball.”
In
any era, when something—or someone—sounds too good to be true, it—or he—usually
is. I asked, “If he is so valuable, then why does he not stay with one team?”
A
look of chagrin crossed her countenance. “Sandy Carter is what we call a ‘loose
cannon.’ He can be temperamental and wild, and he gets into fights with players
and coaches and…sometimes even with his bosses. And not just verbal fights,
either. Usually his points are quite valid, but his means of expressing them
don’t earn him any friends.”
In
a word, then, passionate. Passionate men I understood and could work with. It
had been thus with Accolon at the start of our association, and look at all I
had been able to accomplish with him. Everything I had ever desired, except
King Arthur’s throne.
Wit
I well that lying and gullibility were two facets of human nature that had not
changed in the last fifteen centuries and shall not change in the next fifteen,
either. I had learned this while trying to evaluate potential new Knights for
the team. Everyone speaks glowingly of his accomplishments and accolades; no
one ever mentions his flaws or mistakes or regrets unless a wise employer
chooses to ask specific questions of this ilk. Yet Clarice had offered the bad
along with the good of this man. Still, I would be forced as a point of honor
to relinquish my coveted title of The Wise if I accepted her words at face
value; upon turning the thought-receptors toward me, I soon verified everything
she had told me about this volatile man.
I
asked, “Is Sandy Carter available now?”
Clarice’s
grin returned. “For the right price, Queen Morgan, anyone is.”
It
took only one call, and Sandy Carter expressed exceeding pleasure and eagerness
to accompany me to London as general manager of the Knights. The fact that I
had worn the sexy black number during the call saved the team quite a sum with
regard to Carter’s agreed-upon salary.
Neither
as queen nor as ball club owner do I ever make idle promises.
AUTHOR BIO
Kim is a Seattle native (when she used to live in the Metro DC area, she loved telling people she was from "the other Washington") and a direct descendent of 20th-century Russian nobility. Her grandmother was a childhood friend of the doomed Grand Duchess Anastasia, and the romantic yet tragic story of how Lydia escaped Communist Russia with the aid of her American husband will most certainly one day fuel one of Kim's novels. Another novel in the queue will involve her husband's ancestor, the 7th-century proto-Viking king of the Swedish colony in Russia.
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