by Jamie Marchant
Daulphina’s father, the king of Asteria, has always wanted a male heir. Unfortunately for him, Daulphina’s magic means that will never happen unless her bastard half-brother displaces her on the throne. But she’ll take on all the gods herself before she lets that happen. He isn’t nice enough to be a good king.
But apparently, the gods don’t like being challenged because she’s flung across the void and into the dumpy old trailer and chiselled body of Joshua Killenyen, a rodeo bull rider from Alabama. With nothing to eat but Frosted Flakes and no knowledge how she got there, she better find a way home before she gets her head stomped in by the bulls she must ride. Or her brother will take the throne and reduce her people to slavery. Remember, he isn’t nice.
I dreamed I saw myself cowering in the corner of my bedroom, dressed only in my shift. Well, it looked like me with my long curly blonde hair and slight built, but somehow, I wasn’t inside the dream figure. I was watching as if it were a play. My eyes were wide and looking wildly around the room. The door opened, and my maid Sylvia came in. “Your Highness, what’s wrong?” she asked.
“I have boobs, that’s what’s wrong!”
By Cernuous, was I watching Joshua inhabiting my body?
Sylvia sighed. “Your Highness, I know things would have been easier for you if you had been born a man, but isn’t it time you dressed?” She held up one of my favorite green dresses. It had leaves and purple flowers embroidered around the edges.
Joshua put up his hands. “I ain’t wearing no dress! Oh, God, how did I get here? And where the hell is here? This sure as hell ain’t my trailer!” He looked around at the large canopy bed, its woodwork carved into a pattern of dragons; the two huge wardrobes with matching dragons on the doors; the ornate chairs covered in embroidered silk; and the marble fireplace. “Looks like some Louis XIV’s palace or something.”
Sylvia’s face creased with concern. “Your Highness, are you all right?”
He wrapped his arms around himself. “Hell no! Haven’t you heard what I’ve been saying? Somebody turned me into a woman!”
Sylvia set down the dress and felt his forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, but . . . should I fetch a physician?”
“No, fetch whoever turned me into a goddamned woman and make him turn me back!”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Jamie began writing stories about the man from Mars when she was six, and she never remembers wanting to be anything other than a writer. Everyone told her she needed a back up plan, so she pursued a Ph.D. in American literature, which she received in 1998. She started teaching writing and literature at Auburn University. One day in the midst of writing a piece of literary criticism, she realized she’d put her true passion on the backburner and neglected her muse. The literary article went into the trash, and she began the book that was to become her first novel. She writes about the fantastic . . . and the tortured soul. Her poor characters have hard lives. She still teaches writing and literature at Auburn University. She is the mother of a grown son.
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