The Adventuress

By Blaze Ward

An English Barrister’s wife should be faithful and subservient to her husband, even as the Edwardian Age replaces the Victorian and loosens the strangling ties of modern culture.

But she finds herself facing the might of His Majesty’s Government along with her own doom.

With her husband arrested and her station destroyed, she must become something new, and like a phoenix, rise from the ashes.

Join her as she becomes Holly Breckenridge and seeks her place in a world turning upside down as the Twentieth Century unfurls.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Knotted Road Press
• Release date: Dec 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781943663316

Blaze Ward

Blaze Ward writes science fiction in the Alexandria Station universe (Jessica Keller, The Science Officer,  The Story Road, etc.) as well as several other science fiction universes, such as Star Dragon, the Dominion, and more. He also writes odd bits of high fantasy with swords and orcs. In addition, he is the Editor and Publisher of Boundary Shock Quarterly Magazine. You can find out more at his website www.blazeward.com, as well as Facebook, Goodreads, and other places. Blaze's works are available as ebooks, paper, and audio, and can be found at a variety of online vendors. His newsletter comes out regularly, and you can also follow his blog on his website. He really enjoys interacting with fans, and looks forward to any and all questions—even ones about his books!

Book preview

Chapter 1: Survivors

She sat in the drab little room, this industrial space located in a dank basement, and waited. Stone–faced. Impervious. Determined.

She was a lady, a patriot, a Briton.

He would not make her cry. Not now. Not ever again. Hell would just have to freeze over. That was the only thing there was to do about it.

She looked down at her hands, clasped firmly in the lap of her riding habit. Hidden by the softest gray suede gloves one could find on High Street. She could only envision them dripping with the fresh blood she could see in her mind. She resisted the urge to wring them.

Briton. Unbending.

Stone.

For once, the tightly–laced corset worked in her favor. She could not imagine the capacity to draw a sigh, there being no place to even put it while she worked out the logistics of the action.

Briton.

She eventually settled for a small pursing of the lips, mostly at the tremendously uncomfortable wooden chair she found herself occupying. And the small wooden table dividing the room from the other two chairs.

Banal. Industrial.

Common.

She worked her will on the closed door to this place, this interrogation room, this Star Chamber, but nothing responded. Very well. She would outlast the stone of the building itself, if necessary.

Briton.

She had wondered who would finally come for her, as a man opened the only door. He was dapper in the latest evening attire, as though called away suddenly from the opera or a gentleman’s club, red silk tied four–in–hand, his jacket’s bottom button fashionably undone.

Oh, so modern, so Edwardian.

He carried his top hat and gloves in one hand, spoke backwards over his shoulder as he entered, and pushed the door on some unheard response.

His entire being communicated that this was no time for frivolity or argument.

Yes, I’m aware of the hour, he cast his exasperation into the diminishing gap. Look for him at his club or send someone ’round for his secretary. This will not wait for the dawn.

Ξ

John Kimball closed the door firmly, stopped to catch his breath, turned to study her.

Michelangelo, perhaps, could have captured her spirit in stone. Few others.

Gibraltar might have quailed.

He nodded, soundlessly, and moved to the near side of the table from the unhappy woman, pleased to keep some distance between them yet. The top hat and gloves were deposited on the empty third chair as he sat across from her. Eyes met. He should be amazed at her resiliency by now, but he had known her for most of her life, his best friend’s youngest daughter, and some things never changed.

Time passed.

He shepherded his thoughts, his fears, the implications.

Finally, he spoke. It is as bad as you feared. Perhaps worse.

Only someone who knew her so well could see the impact of his words on her psyche. The slight fluttering of an eyelash. The faintest tightening around the lips. The slight squeak of the chair as her tension shifted, hidden beneath the folds of her riding habit.

She would not speak. That much he could see.

Even now, he continued, important personages are being notified.

Her eyes flared.

And yes, your