With all of time at risk, it's a bad time to fall in love...
unless it's the only time...
Robert Clementyne is going on a transmogrification machine hunt. He fears finding the machine will be as difficult as pronouncing the name. How can the steam-powered device perform as advertised, and how useful can any information be, coming from a steampunk themed bowling alley/museum?
It's pretty crazy, but he's been there, done that, and thinks he can handle it. And then he meets the proprietor/curator...Emily Babcock. Emily grew up in crazy, still lives in it-hey, it's her freaking zip code. So no worries when Robert and his team walk into her bowling alley.
The first visitors ever to her museum. But neither of them is prepared for what happens when they open the door to the past...and the future.
With a side trip through Roswell...and a face-to-face meeting with an evil genius/wannabe-who is on his way to becoming evil overlord-of-everything...
AND this...
Dreamspell Steampunk
Volume 1
by Pauline B. Jones
Heather Massey
Linda Houlse
and Chris Samson
Enjoy four Steampunk stories:
Steam Time by Pauline B Jones
The man formerly known as Tobias Smith hadn’t planned to ride along with Dr. Everly and his Medicine Show. Grifters gave him a pain their elixirs couldn’t heal. But he was headed to Marfa, too. And Everly’s son turned out to be a really a fine looking damsel—one in distress when the ghost lights of Marfa bump them into an alternate reality complete with an automaton gang and airships. Could he be the good guy? Be the hero, save the day and get the girl?
The Prometheus Engine by Chris Samson
When an airship is shot down over the desolate Kashmir landscape, seven survivors of disparate backgrounds must band together to escape. As a swarm of marauders approaches, the survivors’ only hope lies in the untested Prometheus Engine.
Steambot Rampage by Heather Massey
On the eve of the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition, a no-nonsense secretary and an intrepid reporter join forces to battle a bizarre automaton on a rampage.
Angelina by Linda Houle
Valerie is fascinated with an antique ruby and diamond pendant. Where did it come from and why was it hidden in a makeshift wall safe? An old log cabin on her new husband’s ranch holds the answers and a lot more, but once Val goes through a secret door will she ever find her way back home?
--~ eBook Giveaway courtesy of authors ~--
WIN a copy of these ebooks!
2 - winners: one for each
Winners can choose from the following formats: PDF, Mobi, or ePub.
Open to all.
Offer ends: December 16, 2011
TO DO:
1. Send me a link to a picture of something steampunk - holiday themed.
2. Tell me which ebook you would like.
AND, leave your email (if I don't already have it)
What happens when a twenty-first century woman on a mission to change the past meets a thoroughly 1940's man trying to stay alive in the hellish skies over war-torn Europe?
Melanie "Mel" Morton is an adventure reporter, who lost her grandfather in World War II. Enter Jack Hamilton, sexy octogenarian, genius/scientist and former WWII bomber pilot. What he tells Mel sends her on the craziest adventure yet-straight into the past.
All Mel has to do is outmaneuver the entire German army and not fall in love with Jack.
Eluding the Germans will be the easy part...
PeekAbook:
My two-bits: In-a-word(s): vortex Absolutely loved this jaunt into the past with a tough and sassy heroine.
Time travel with bits of WWII history, bomber flights and romance make up this gem of a story.
~-~-~-~-~ guest ~-~-~-~-~ by Pauline Baird Jones ~-~-~-~-~ guest ~-~-~-~-~
Melanie “Mel” Morton thought she was done with crazy stunts since she’d finished with the Make Mel Cry Uncle show. And she thought she was through with time travel when she made it out of World War II—and Occupied France—alive.
It sucked to be wrong.
She looked down at the whirling vortex. It looked worse than the last time she’d jumped into it—and into the past. And different, it looked different. More vortexy somehow.
At least this time she wasn’t wearing a dress. Not that B-17 bomber gear was that much more comfortable than the 40’ dress she’d donned for her last trip into the past. It did have the benefit of being warmer, particularly with Jack wrapped around her like another bomber jacket.
Jack Hamilton loves me. That knowledge hugged her, too, and this time, she got to travel with Jack. That almost made it worth doing again.
“It’s almost time.”
Jack had said that the last time—an older but still sexy Jack. She liked them both, but no question young-bomber-pilot Jack was to die for—which explained why she was about to jump into a vortex again, she supposed. It wasn’t the first time she’d observed the falling in love/reduced IQ factor, though this was her first time living it. Thankfully the IQ drop meant she didn’t care that much about the IQ drop. Despite the IQ drop, she still wasn’t sure how she’d let him talk her into time travel part dieu, actually, now that she considered it, there’d been very little talking and a lot of kissing, which pretty much explained how it happened. He was as good at kissing as everything else he did.
She almost sighed, but she was so close to Jack, he’d feel it and he already carried a lot of guilt for messing with time in the first place. So she hugged him tighter and was glad for the choice when storm turbulence rocked the plane and almost tumbled them into the vortex. She didn’t understand the science, but Jack said when they jumped mattered in how they got to where.
Jack wasn’t happy about the storm, but something about time and tide not waiting mattered, too, so here they were, getting buffeted by the weather while they waited to get buffeted by time—
Mel wasn’t sure if it was turbulence, the lightning, or both, and what didn’t matter as much as the result. Their plane dropped like a stone, slamming them into the top, then jerked up, leaving them at the mercy of the vortex. If they hadn’t been secured together, well, it was the only good part about being buffeted by a time vortex being buffeted by a big ass storm.
~*~
Mel didn’t know she’d lost consciousness until she regained consciousness. Her face was pressed up against fabric, with Jack’s heart beating reassuringly on the other side of it. It was so comforting, it took her a few moments to realize she heard music off in the distance somewhere, but it seemed to fit the moment and the hug. It reminded her of the credits of Pride and Prejudice, the end ones where Elizabeth and Darcy are wrapped in each other’s arms on the terrace. That also went with the moment, since she was still wrapped in Jack, so she snuggled closer and released a small, happy sigh.
Of course, getting hugged could be improved by getting kissed. As if he heard her thought, Jack stirred, his arms tightening around her with satisfactory enthusiasm. His head was already tucked in against her neck, so he started the kissing there. The warmth of him and his mouth contrasted nicely with the chill of the air around them.
Somewhere in her brain, she knew she should wonder about the music, and the hard wood floor under them, and why it was so cold inside where ever it was they were, but IQ points were dropping like flies with each press of his mouth against her skin.
“Jack.” She sighed the name, half happy with his kissing choices, half eager for him to get to her mouth and kick it into high. Her lashes drifted down as he stopped to devote attention to the area behind her ear. If there’d been light, she might see storm clouds forming over them, caused by the collision of hot them and cold room, but there wasn’t light—
As if her thought had summoned that, a glow built on the other side of her closed lids and a surge of cooler air, mixed into their personal weather system. She started to murmur a protest, but then the wooden floor rumbled from approaching footsteps. With extreme reluctance she opened her eyes.
The view was odd and upside down, but Mel still got the general impression of someone right out of a Jane Austen movie. The breeches. The ruffle of lace at his wrists. The neat fall of a cravat at his neck. The upheld candle.
Candle?
“Mr…Darcy?” She felt the lack of those kissed away IQ points quite keenly as soon as the words left her mouth. Of course it wasn’t Mr. Darcy. He was a fictional character. Jack stopped the kissing, though the straps that held them together prevented him from joining the conversation, or even looking at the problem.
Through the open doorway, Mel heard a light, female and very British voice say, “I just adore Pemberley at Christmas, Elizabeth. Though you should have had doves for a Christmas ball. I suppose you don’t know how to do a truly dashing party yet.” Mel blinked.
The possibly Mr. Darcy’s brows arched in a very supercilious—one might even call it proud—way. “Why are you rolling around on the floor of my wife’s bedroom in that extraordinary garb?” Mel opened her mouth. Closed it. Tried blinking again. It didn’t change anything.
“Either I’m dreaming or its past time to push that get home button, Jack.”
“You aren’t and I did—”
The words cut off as the vortex formed again and sucked them up like a huge, silver vacuum cleaner. For just a second, Mel thought she saw Mr. Darcy spin past, but that couldn’t be. Everyone knew he was just a character in a book. Didn’t they?
Pauline Baird Jones is the award-winning author of nine novels of science fiction romance, action-adventure, suspense, romantic suspense and comedy-mystery. Her latest release is Girl Gone Nova and she is in the process of re-issuing her back list. She's also written a steampunk novella called Tangled in Time that will release in 2010. She's written two non-fiction books, Adapting Your Novel for Film and Made-up Mayhem, and she co-wrote Managing Your Book Writing Business with Jamie Engle. Her seventh novel, Out of Time, an action-adventure romance set in World War II, is an EPPIE 2007 winner. Her eighth novel, The Key won an Independent Book Award Bronze Medal (IPPY) for 2008 and is a 2007 Dream Realm Awards Winner. She also has short stories in several anthologies. Originally from Wyoming, she and her family moved from New Orleans to Texas before Katrina.
~-~-~-~-~ guest ~-~-~-~-~ by Pauline Baird Jones ~-~-~-~-~ guest ~-~-~-~-~
Description from the amazon: What happens when a twenty-first century woman on a mission to change the past meets a thoroughly 1940's man trying to stay alive in the hellish skies over war-torn Europe?
Melanie "Mel" Morton is an adventure reporter, who lost her grandfather in World War II. Enter Jack Hamilton, sexy octogenarian, genius/scientist and former WWII bomber pilot.
What he tells Mel sends her on the craziest adventure yet-straight into the past.
All Mel has to do is outmaneuver the entire German army and not fall in love with Jack.
* In My Mailbox is hosted by The Story Siren and inspired by Pop Culture Junkie. A post where we share books acquired via mailbox, library, store, etc.
Meet: Olivia Carstairs Occupation: Assistant to Professor Twitchet Location: Texas and other? Main mode of transportation: transmogrification machine Genre: Steampunk, Novella, Romance, Science Fiction, Time Travel
As Olivia rides the Devonian Express, she sits with a warm cup of tea lost in thought.
She recalls another recent train trip...
~-~-~-~-~ guest ~-~-~-~-~ by Pauline B. Jones ~-~-~-~-~ guest ~-~-~-~-~
Transmogrification Machine
There was, Olivia conceded to herself—since she was currently unattended and had only herself to concede anything to—something quite exhilarating about riding the El, as opposed to the streetcar or the more sedate Hansom cab. Riding along the tops of the tenements and buildings, well above street level, seeing Gotham pass like a flowing river, made her feel quite breathless. It was definitely worth the expenditure of ten cents.
Not only was she up above the street, she felt lifted above societal restraints and cautiously optimistic about reaching her goal. When O. Carstairs, Esq had opened a correspondence with Professor Emelius Twitchet, distinguished Professor of Sciences, just over a year ago, Olivia had nursed no expectation of meeting him. Had he known she was a “Miss” and not an “Esq,” he’d have cut the connection forthwith, nor would he have proposed the possibility of her working as his assistant in his researches. She didn’t have to peruse the communication currently residing in her reticule to recall its contents or the proposed appointment and possible offer of employment “if they found they suited.”
She should have penned a polite and regretful refusal, perhaps pleading previous and inescapable employment. She had instead, felt a tiny seed of hope give bud in a heart devoted to science. Surely, a proper application of scientific method could lead to a satisfactory resolution for both her and the Professor—who clearly needed her as his assistant.
She had given brief consideration to becoming a gentleman in every way but the anatomical. The idea intrigued, but was, in the end, illogical and impractical for any extended period of time. Her Mama would surely notice if her daughter became a son and could be counted on to respond badly.
In the end, the only truly practical way to secure the position was by persuading the Professor to alter his requirement that she be male. She had observed gentlemen responded badly to direct requests to alter a position. Outright requests did, in fact, make them quite immoveable. But there were more subtle ways to change a gentleman’s mind. Why just this week, quite without intending to, Olivia had convinced Mr. Lester Heplinger to propose, totally against the desires of his—or her-heart. Typically, he’d been both relieved and annoyed when she gave him the muffin.
The incident, upon careful review of the events leading up to it, provided her with a method of sound, scientific procedure that, if properly applied during her appointment with the Professor, could lead to a similar, albeit less permanent, result.
Olivia might have quailed at the boldness required to present herself at the Professor’s place of employment, minus that important Esq, but Mrs Pankhurst urged suffragists to “deeds, not words.” This was clearly the right moment for deeds.
Added to this was the unwelcome reality that—having giving Mr. Heplinger the muffin—her only other option lay in employment as a governess to—she gulped—seven boys, ranging in age from two years to ten. She positively paled at the thought.
“First time on the El, miss?” The cheery voice recalled Olivia to her surroundings.
Olivia smiled, despite their lack of introduction and the obvious inequities in their social status. The democratic nature of the El was to be admired, not deplored—her gaze inadvertently intersected the bold one of what her Papa would have termed a “spark.” She lifted her chin, grateful for the sharp point of her parasol if the young man felt inclined to move closer, and turned to the lady at her left.
“Is it so obvious it’s my first time?”
The amply formed female gave a half grimace, half nod and gathered up her various bags as the El reached her stop. “You gets used to it, dearie.”
Oddly warmed by the brief contact, Olivia nevertheless felt anxiety increase as the EL resumed its forward progress, decreasing the number of stops prior to hers. Success was possible, she reminded herself sturdily. Observation was a lifetime habit, and such observation had convinced her that success in any endeavor had as much to do with inner confidence and determination, as other factors. According to the Professor, she had a “fine, scientific mind.” She deserved the opportunity to use it in scientific endeavors.
Added to these bracing reflections was the fact that the Professor wanted to hire O. Carstairs as his assistant. His mind was set upon it, so all she really needed to do was keep him from changing his mind—something most men pursued as a lifelong goal.
Her stop approached. Steam hissed as brakes were applied. She retrieved her parasol and rose, twitching her skirt into place before disembarking. Noise and heat assaulted with equal force as she descended to a street level teaming with a mostly unwashed humanity. It was not unexpected in proximity to the East River. She snapped her parasol open, confident in its point—and her concealed derringer—as she turned toward the warehouse that housed Professor Twitchet’s laboratory.
Mrs. Pankhurst liked smashing windows, but today Olivia would be content with smashing one, small expectation. It was, she was quite sure, in both their best interests that she succeed.
~-~-~-~-~ guest ~-~-~-~-~ by Pauline B. Jones ~-~-~-~-~ guest ~-~-~-~-~
Tangled in Time A Science Fiction/Steampunk Romance Novella by Pauline B. Jones ebook release date: December 2010
Romance steam gauge: light
Description from the author's site: Colonel Carey (from The Key and Girl Gone Nova) takes a test "flight" through the Garradian time-space portal, but an unexpected impact lands him somewhere and some when.
As he attempts to get to Area 51, he crosses paths with Miss Olivia Carstairs, who could be Mary Poppins' twin sister.
Or maybe her cousin. Olivia's got a transmogrification machine powered by steam and something more, and a mouth he'd like to kiss like it was his job.
Can he get them both to safety before the buzzard eats them or she shoots him with her derringer?
My two bits: In-a-word(s): IDV - Individual Discovery Velocipediator
Loved this mix of present, past and future. I was very entertained with the current cultural references i.e. Alice in Wonderland, Wallace and Grommit, etc. The flickers of romance were fun to witness as well.
Alice sighting: From the moment, she led him inside, reality checked out, leaving him in a fictional place, a Jules Verne versin of Alice Through the Looking Glass--with a weirdly sexy "Alice" as tour guide. -Brae's thoughts, page 13 of review copy
*** steampunk ebook giveaway - courtesy of author ***
