Wednesday, June 03, 2015

Wishing Cross Station By February Grace




TItle: Wishing Cross Station
Author: February Grace
Genre: Fantasy
A dark fantasy romance from the author of GODSPEED and OF STARDUST…

Don’t stay a moment longer than you have to. Don’t say too much. Don’t pollute the timeline.

When nineteen-year-old college library page Keigan Wainwright is sent to pick up a private donation of books for the school’s collection, he has no idea where one of those books will take him, or what it will take from him.

Retracing a powerful man’s footsteps through the past, Keigan finds himself caught in the same dangerous trap: falling in love with a woman he was never meant to know, and uncertain he will ever find his way home.

Author Bio

February Grace is an author, poet, and artist from Southeast Michigan. In previous novels, she has introduced readers to characters with clockwork hearts, told of romantic modern-day fairy godparents, and reimagined a legend, centuries old. Now, in her fifth novel with Booktrope, readers will board the special at WISHING CROSS STATION and embark on a trip through time. She is more than mildly obsessed with clocks, music, colors, meteor showers, and steam engines.


The wail and cry of the whistle. The puff of the engine. The clang of the bell and grinding screech of the brakes… all combined with the roar of a biting winter wind.
No matter how old I live to be, I will never forget that particular cacophony, an orchestra tuning up in preparation for a command performance. When I heard her approach, I knew the journey I was about to take would change me— no matter where I ended up when it was over.           
She was beautiful, dark, and strong, with powerful legs beneath her as she rode the rails into the station. Plumes of white and grey rose around her as she moved, fluttering like angel’s wings. The smell of the smoke was a singular aroma. Coal, fire, and heat all combined to intoxicate a man, to loosen the ideas in his head from solid form into threads meant to be spun into the foolishness of dreams.
She was a vixen, a siren, a savior, and damnation all in one. All things that beckon men to follow her anywhere, do anything to finally reach ecstasy before demise.
She was one of a kind, this engine, and her name was Aurelia Belle.                                                               
She’s silent; the echoes of her glory only replay in my head. How clear, how deafening, how devastating, still.
She is restored now, sleeping in the roundhouse because the Historical Park is closed for the season. What happened to the version of the engine that took me on the voyage of a lifetime, I may never know.
I know just this: writing it down is the only way for me to even begin to come to terms with the fact it happened.
It did really happen, of this I am certain, because damn it, I was there.
It doesn’t matter now if anyone else knows, or believes.
I know, I believe, and I will always remember.
It started as the most significant things in life do: in the middle of an ordinary weekday afternoon.


Links
Twitter: @februarygrace



1 comment:

  1. Thank you so much for hosting an excerpt from Wishing Cross Station today! Your support is truly appreciated. Thanks again!

    ReplyDelete