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Blurb:Haunted by a crushing fear of death, a young Victorian woman discovers the secret of eternal youth—she must surrender her life to attain it, and steal heartbeats to keep it. In 1860 Surrey, a young woman has only one occupation: to marry. Senza Fyne is beautiful, intelligent, and lacks neither wealth nor connections. Finding a husband shouldn’t be difficult, not when she has her entire life before her. But it’s not life that preoccupies her thoughts. It’s death—and that shadowy spectre haunts her every step. So does Mr. Knell. Heart-thumpingly attractive, obviously eligible—he’d be her perfect match if only he wasn’t so macabre. All his talk about death, all that teasing about knowing how to avoid it… When her mother arranges a courtship with another man, Senza is desperate for escape from a dull prescripted destiny. Impulsively, she takes Knell up on his offer. He casts a spell that frees her from the cruelty of time and the threat of death—but at a steep price. In order to maintain eternal youth, she must feed on the heartbeats of others. From the posh London season to the back alleys of Whitechapel, across the Channel, across the Pond, across the seas of Time… How far will Senza Fyne go to avoid Death?
The room faded around Senza, the noise of the guests thinning, the press of the crowd easing. A lone figure stepped into the doorway. The world just fell away, tatters and pieces that faded around her. The only real, tangible thing in the room was that stranger. For a moment, Senza forgot how to breathe. Who was he? Tall, but not towering. Nice shoulders, a handsome coat. The cut of the jacket hinted at a pleasant physique, the material gleaming darkly with a hint of silk. His hair was longer than the others wore, dark and smooth and drawn back in a ribbon, although a fringe had fallen loose. The strands hung down in a boyish tumble to frame his eyes, large and black and shimmering like obsidian. Those eyes were fixed upon hers. When he noticed her looking at him, he flashed a sharp, secret smile. Nothing boyish about it. That look made something inside her flutter, high up between her ribs. She struggled to draw a breath, her corset suddenly too tight— And then, he was gone. Disappeared into the crowd. Vanished like a ghost.
Meet Ash Krafton:Ash Krafton is a writer of all things spec fic. She believes spectacular endings make the best beginnings... Why not? One billion black holes can't be wrong. The second bravest thing she's ever done was volunteering to go first when her Girl Scout troop visited a High Ropes challenge course somewhere back in the eighties. (Thankfully, few photos exist.) The third bravest thing was wearing her purple Colin Stuart boots with the extreme stiletto heel to her kids' school open house one year. (Three floors, all steps, no brakes.) The top of the Brave Things list, however, remains to be written.
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And writing as AJ Krafton: Facebook: http://facebook.com/ajkrafton
Blog: http://ajkrafton.blogspot.com http://infiniteinkauthors.com