Steam Me Up, Rawley

by Angela Quarles

  They curtseyed. “Welcome to Mobile,” Adele said. “Your arrival has been highly anticipated. This is my father, Dr. de la Pointe, my great-aunt, Mrs. Linette Rochon, and my brother, Rex de la Pointe.”

  Her family made their greetings. Rex greeted Charlotte, and a dark red blush suffused her face. She tucked a hair behind her ear and kept her good profile turned toward them, especially to Rex.

  Adele’s heart went out to the poor girl, so uncomfortable in a strange new setting and finding Rex attractive, but feeling inadequate. Adele searched her stupid brain for what to do to alleviate Charlotte’s evident distress.

  And then Rex stepped forward, all smiles, and extended his arm, the one with his mechanical hand. “May I have the pleasure?” he asked Charlotte, sending another blush racing across her skin.

  He didn’t point out his hand, but his intention was obvious. He let Charlotte know, in that one gesture, she was among people who cared and who didn’t judge others on any physical distinctions.

  Adele was happy to see Charlotte start at first, seeing his hand, but then gaze up at his face with even more wonder and take his arm.

  “May I?” asked Phillip, as he held out his own arm to Adele.

  “Indeed, Dr. Rawley.” She looped an arm around his and followed as her father and great-aunt led them to their parked steam car.

  Looking up at her husband’s profile, his roguish eyebrows relaxed, his obvious relief and pleasure at his sisters’ arrival, Adele reveled in the moment, a moment brought about through both their actions. A moment she could truly enjoy and take satisfaction in. A good moment indeed.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading Steam Me Up, Rawley!

  I hope you enjoyed Adele and Rawley (and Loki)! Keep flipping forward to read my historical note about the events in the book. And if you join my mailing list for the latest news, I'll send you deleted scenes as a thank you! If you realllly loved it, and want to help pimp my books and get free content and be the first to hear of news, you can join my street team!

  Want some visuals? While drafting and revising, I created a Pinterest board to help visualize and brainstorm, and it includes not only some great steampunk clothing, but also which actors I pictured for Adele and Rawley :)

  Interested in the how the steampunk world depicted in Steam Me Up, Rawley came about? While a stand-alone novel, Steam Me Up, Rawley’s alternate historical timeline is a result of the events that happened in my time travel romance Must Love Breeches. Read the first two chapters at the end of this book.

  Please feel free to reach out to me. I love to hear from readers about what they loved (or didn't) about my books, so drop me a line if you'd like at angela@angelaquarles.com or find me on my website or on twitter at @angelaquarles, or on my Facebook page.

  And now a big favor. Readers like you make it possible for writers to do what they love, spin tales! Thank you for your support. If you enjoyed Steam Me Up, Rawley, I hope you'll take a moment to share your enthusiasm with other readers by posting a review. Discoverability for new authors like me is a challenge and every review helps connect a reader to a book they might enjoy. I appreciate any review, positive or negative, so if you have a moment to post one, even just a line or two about what you thought of the story, on Goodreads or your favorite review site, I’d be grateful! The more reviews a book receives, the more other readers are willing to take a chance on a new author. It also helps a reader decide whether a book is for them or not. Regardless, I thank you for reading! If you do leave a review, send me an email at angela@angelaquarles.com so I can personally thank you, or tweet me @angelaquarles.

  Other things you can do to help:

  I made this book lendable on Amazon, so please feel free to share it with your personal friends so they can discover me too

  Please help other readers find this book by recommending it to friends, book clubs, and discussion groups.

  Share what you thought of this book on:

  Goodreads | Facebook | Pinterest | Twitter | Google+

  Thank you!

  Also by Angela Quarles

  Beer and Groping in Las Vegas

  an erotic geek romantic comedy

  Must Love Breeches

  a time travel romance, Book One in the Must Love Series

  Coming Soon

  Must Love Chainmail , Book Two in the Must Love Series, coming in late 2015

  The second book in my Must Love romance series. When a soon-to-be bride becomes enchanted by a local Welsh folk hero, she accidentally wishes herself back to medieval Wales. Now she must get back in time for her wedding, or does she? For the medieval knight she meets makes her question all of her assumptions and returning to her fiancé could be the worst mistake of her life. You can add it to your Goodreads shelf so you’ll know when it comes out.

  Historical Note

  Since this is alternate history, I had fun playing a little What If? The biggest What If, which others before me have also explored, is: what if Lincoln hadn’t been shot? The other big What If in play in this novel is, what if Charles Babbage had completed his Analytical Engine? The latter is also a favorite topic with alternate historians and writers of steampunk. In fact, the events in my first novel, Must Love Breeches, created the conditions for Babbage to complete his ingenious work. So if you’re interested in that aspect, you might enjoy that book too.

  There are some historical people in this novel. One is Miss Eilands, known to Mobilians as Floatin’ Island. My grandmother used to tell me stories about her, and I hope she and other Mobilians will forgive me for changing her somewhat to have a different reason for her “floating ability”—in real life, she took such tiny steps, it looked like she floated down the street in her old-fashioned hoop skirt. The legend about her having a Civil War beau for which she kept herself the same, is true: as a legend. That’s what I and many others had been told. But the facts don’t match, she would’ve been just a little too young. However, best anyone can tell, someone had caught her interest at a young age and asked her to never change. For an online account, see http://mobileghosts.net/2010/10/13/ghost-berfest-day-thirteen-floating-eilands/

  The Can’t Get Away Club is also based in Mobile’s history. My great-great-grandfather was a member and Yellow Fever stories were told in my family. I remember one tale my great-grandmother would tell about how her father (the one in the Can’t Get Away Club) would burn charcoal in the rooms every night and someone in the family said, “I don’t know if this prevents Yellow Fever, but it’s sure killing the mosquitoes.” Visit here for more info: http://alabamapioneers.com/the-cant-get-away-club-mobile-alabama

  Colonel Gillespie, the Justice of the Peace in Sarasota, Florida, his hotel, and jail, are based in history. Supposedly he did build the first golf course in the country in Sarasota.

  The Spanish-American War didn’t happen in our timeline until 1898, but I moved the threat up a little earlier. Who knows if the changed events might have ushered in our involvement a little earlier. And speaking of the Spanish-American War, some blame America’s involvement as a result of the “yellow” journalism practiced by William Randolph Hearst and Joseph Pulitzer who competed for circulation numbers with sensationalist stories and attention-grabbing headlines. The 1890s were the high-water mark for such reporting, represented here by Mr. Tonti. Adele’s views were not the norm in that era, and the idea of objective reporting didn’t gain in prominence, and become the norm, until the Twentieth Century.

  The C.S.S. Hunley, mentioned in Captain Trimble’s speech was real. Mobile built it in 1863, and it was the first submarine to sink an enemy ship. The submarine sank shortly afterward, killing its crew, off the coast of Charleston (and was actually the third time it sank and killed its crew, yikes!). It has since been raised and is on display in Charleston.

  About the Author

  Photo by Keyhole Photography

  Angela Quarles is a USA Today bestselling author. Her debut novel, Must Love Breeches, swept many unpublished romance
contests, including the Grand Prize winner of Windy City's Four Seasons contest in 2012. Angela loves history, folklore, and family history, and has been a hobby historian for twenty+ years. She decided to take her love of history and her active imagination and write stories of love and adventure for others to enjoy. When writing, she's either at her desk in the finished attic of an historic home in beautiful and quirky Mobile, AL, or at her fave spot at the local Starbucks. When she isn't writing, she's either working at the local indie bookstore or enjoying the usual stuff like gardening, reading, hanging out, eating, drinking, chasing squirrels out of the walls, and creating the occasional knitted scarf.

  She has a B.A. in Anthropology and International Studies with a minor in German from Emory University, and a Masters in Heritage Preservation from Georgia State University. She was an exchange student to Finland in high school and studied abroad in Vienna one summer in college.

  Find Angela Quarles Online:

  www.angelaquarles.com

  @angelaquarles

  Facebook.com/authorangelaquarles

  Mailing list: www.angelaquarles.com/join-my-mailing-list

  Acknowledgments

  I have many people to thank, and since I wrote the first draft in 2012, I’m bound to leave someone out!

  First, my biggest thanks goes to my best beta buddy Jami Gold, who read this more times than either of us probably remembers. She’s always there for me when I’m angsting about some aspect of craft or another. She’s gets where I’m trying to go, sees where I’m falling short, and helps get me to my goal. Thank you so much, Jami!

  I also want to thank Buffy Armstrong, who read an early and a later draft. Her snarky, but very helpful, comments helped get this story, and its characters in shape.

  I also want to thank the following people who read an early draft of this story and gave me invaluable feedback: Karen Kirby, Amber Belldene, Meggan Haller, Linda Morris, Candice Marley Conner, Marlene Relja, Darla Brewton-Smith, Pamela Stewart, and Joseph Quarles. Also to various members of FF&P who critiqued chapters on the old Mud Puddle, to classmates in Margie Lawson’s classes and Savvy Authors who critiqued some chapters, and to Katherine Fleet, Jennifer Davis, Dora Furlong, Traci Douglass, and PR Henriksen, for giving me feedback on the opening chapters.

  I'd also like to thank my editors: my developmental editor Jessa Slade for helping me nail down some big picture issues, especially in regards to the villain; Julie Glover for stepping up to the plate when my copyeditor got sick and helping me clean it up; and to Elizabeth (Elizabeth Edits), Lillie Applegarth, and Melissa Woods for your eagle eyes in the proofreading stage.

  To Alex McLeod who helped me brainstorm the Jack the Ripper aspect of the story, your ideas, even if I don’t use all of them, always get my creative juices going, thank you! And to friends on facebook who helped with quick questions, including Alayna-Renee Vilmont for the name of the villain. To Holly Murphy and Christina Guza for help with Spanish-sounding syntax.

  I’d also like to thank the following from critiquecircle.com for giving me feedback: Rick Ellrod, Shelly Chalmers, Lexi Ng, and Fred Pasek.

  To all the workshop teachers I’ve had who’ve helped me with aspects of this book, including Lori Wilde, Margie Lawson, Carol A. Hughes, and Mary Buckham. You helped me either make the story structure, characters, or prose stronger.

  To Pam, Diane, and the rest of the crew at the Government Street location of Starbucks who keep me supplied in food and decaf when I camp out there to write/revise; I get so much work done there and it helps me stay off the social media. I revised this book there numerous times.

  To my street team: Jami, Buffy, Marlene, Vivien, Alice, Lucy, Alex, and Shaila. You keep my spirits up, help me make decisions when I’m waffling, and help with cheerleading my books. Thank you so much, your help and enthusiasm means the world to me!

  And finally to my family, who have always believed in me and make it possible for me to pursue writing.

  DID YOU MISS ANGELA QUARLES'S DEBUT RELEASE? CLICK FORWARD TO READ THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS OF:

  She's finally met the man of her dreams. There's only one problem: he lives in a different century.

  "A fresh, charming new voice" — New York Times bestselling author Tessa Dare

  "a delight" — Publisher's Weekly

  “a delicious twist on historical drama and romance” — USAToday

  RELEASED SEPTEMBER 3, 2014

  Interested in the how the steampunk world depicted in Steam Me Up, Rawley came about? While a stand-alone novel, Steam Me Up, Rawley’s alternate historical timeline is a result of the events that happened in Must Love Breeches.

  Chapter One

  Here’s a sigh to those who love me,

  And a smile to those who hate:

  And, whatever sky’s above me,

  Here’s a heart for every fate.

  Lord Byron, To Thomas Moore

  A reenactment ball was the perfect setting for romance. Or not.

  Isabelle Rochon fidgeted in her oddly-shaped-but-oh-so-accurate ball gown, surrounded by women who’d sacrificed historical authenticity for sex appeal. Red carpet ball gowns in the nineteenth century, really? Once again she was like the dorky kid participating in dress-up day at school when everyone else had magically decided it was lame.

  “Gah. I feel like a green robot with strange battle armor.” Isabelle pointed to her dark green dress, the shoulders flaring out almost to a point, exaggerating their width. “What were the fashionistas in 1834 thinking?”

  “I have no bloody idea.” Jocelyn squeezed the poof of fabric at her shoulder. “These huge-ass sleeves are ridiculous.”

  “Ah, screw it, we’re having fun, right? I’m not going to self-sabotage the ball. Not after all the time I spent obsessing over my costume.”

  “And obsessing over the etiquette rules.”

  “That too.” Besides, how fun was it to learn Jocelyn shared her obsession with guys in period clothes and bodice-ripper romances?

  Isabelle eyed a guy strolling past in tight-fitting, buff-colored pantaloons. She pitched her voice to be heard over the string quartet. “Hmm. How about the clothes on that daring derriere?”

  Jocelyn sucked on her olive and plopped the empty stir stick into her martini. “Oh, yes. Definitely a breech-ripper.”

  Isabelle choked on her Bellini, the champagne fizz tickling her throat and nose. This was the first opportunity they’d had to socialize outside work, so she treated this moment delicately, afraid to puncture the mood. No need to point out he sported pantaloons, not breeches.

  She should ease up on the drink, though. She didn’t want to get plastered at the Thirty-fourth Annual Prancing Through History Reenactment Ball. Especially since her new colleagues would be around. And her boss. She needed to impress him.

  “Look lively,” Jocelyn said, her voice low, with a dollop of teasing. “Here comes the office hottie.”

  She’d been cultivating a mild crush on Andrew since starting her new job at the British Museum six months ago. The whole situation was perfect. A guy in the same field would respect her interests, wouldn’t expect her to give up her profession for a relationship. He was safe. If it worked out, great, if not, no biggie. She was happy, finally, with how her life was working out.

  She’d pictured him in period clothing before, looking resplendent.

  He did.

  “Hi, Andrew.” Her voice came out a little too high. Jeez, could she sound any more like a lovesick fool? She always did this around gorgeous men—went ga-ga as if she couldn’t rub two brain cells together. She gazed around the Duke of Chelmsford’s newly renovated ballroom and pretended as if her breath hadn’t quickened and her body hadn’t heated at the sight of Andrew.

  “Hello, Isabelle. Jocelyn.” Andrew nodded. His smile felt like a gift for her alone.

  Her pulse throbbed. He’d sought her out. Play it cool. Say something witty. “So, uh, having fun yet?” Having fun yet?

  Something, or someone, in the crowd hog
ged his attention. She followed his gaze until she found it. Or rather him. Their boss at the bar.

  Andrew faced her and the remnants of calculation on his hot-as-heck features disappeared behind his over-bright grin.

  He leaned closer.

  The artificial tang of his cologne drifted her way. She wrinkled her nose.

  “Well done on the Whittaker exhibit. Finding that journal was a bit of a coup. It’ll be a fine addition to the exhibit, once it’s built.”

  He’d noticed. She’d worked damn hard. “Thank you.” Why couldn’t Brits find her Southern accent as sexy as she found theirs?

  “Glad you came across the pond to work with us. That find should put you in the running for the promotion.”

  Good. The promotion would mean she could stay in London. Well, it would make staying easier. No matter what, she was determined to remain.

  “Of course, you’ll have to beat me out.”

  Cold clarity hit her stomach like accidentally gulping a glass of iced gin instead of iced water, jolting her from her usual foray into Incoherent Land around attractive guys. “You’re applying too?” Of course he was.

  “Without a doubt. Career changer and all. I’m a shoo-in. Sure you still want to apply?”