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Overview

Talia fell under a spell. . . . Jack broke the curse.

I was told to beware the accursed spindle, but it was so enchanting, so hypnotic. . . .

I was looking for a little adventure the day I ditched my tour group. But finding a comatose town, with a hot-looking chick asleep in it, was so not what I had in mind.

I awakened in the same place but in another time—to a stranger's soft kiss.

I couldn't help kissing her. Sometimes you just have to kiss someone. I didn't know this would happen.

Now I am in dire trouble because my father, the king, says I have brought ruin upon our country. I have no choice but to run away with this commoner!

Now I'm stuck with a bratty princess and a trunk full of her jewels. . . . The good news: My parents will freak!

Think you have dating issues? Try locking lips with a snoozing stunner who turns out to be 316 years old. Can a kiss transcend all—even time?


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781501280825
Publisher: Brilliance Audio
Publication date: 08/11/2015
Product dimensions: 5.25(w) x 6.75(h) x 0.50(d)
Age Range: 12 - 14 Years

About the Author

Alex Flinn loves fairy tales and is also the author of a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast titled BEASTLY. She lives in Miami with her husband, two kids, a cat, and a dog.

Read an Excerpt

A Kiss in Time

Chapter One

If I hear one more syllable about spindles, I shall surely die!

From my earliest memory, the subject has been worn to death in the castle, nay, in the entire kingdom. It is said that spindle, rather than Mama or Papa, was my first word in infancy, and I have little doubt that this is true, for 'tis the word which lights more frequently than any other upon my most unwilling ears. "Talia, dearest, you must never touch a spindle," Mother would say as she tucked me into bed at night.

"I will not, Mother."

"Vous devez ne jamais toucher un axe," my tutor would say during French lessons.

"I will not," I told him in English.

"If ye spy a spindle, ye must leave it alone," the downstairs maid said as I left the castle, always with my governess, for I was never allowed a moment alone.

Every princeling, princess, or lesser noble who came to the castle to play was told of the restrictions upon spindlesÑlest they have one secreted about their person somewhere, or lest they mistakenly believe I was normal. Each servant was searched at the door, and thread was purchased from outside the kingdom. Even peasants were forbidden to have spindles. It was quite inconvenient for all concerned.

It should be said that I am not certain I would know a spindle if I saw one. But it seems unlikely that I ever shall.

"Why must I avoid spindles?" I asked my mother, in my earliest memory.

"You simply must," she replied, so as not to scare me, I suppose.

"But why?" I persisted.

She sighed. "Children should be seen, not heard."

I askedseveral times more before she excused herself, claiming a headache. As soon as she departed, I started in on my governess, Lady Brooke.

"Why am I never to touch a spindle?"

Lady Brooke looked aggrieved. It was frowned upon, she knew, to scold royal children. Father was a humane ruler who never resorted to beheading. Still, she had her job to consider, if not her neck.

"It is forbidden," she said.

Well, I stomped my foot and whined and cried, and when that failed to produce the desired result, I said, "If you do not answer, I will tell Father you slapped me."

"You wicked, wicked girl! God above will punish you for such deceit!"

"No one punishes princesses." My voice was calm. I was done with my screaming, now that I had discovered a better currency. "Not even God."

"God cares not for rank and privilege. If you tell such an awful lie, you will surely be damned."

"Then you must keep me from such a sin by telling me what I wish to know." Even at four or five, I was precocious and determined.

Finally, sighing, she told me.

I had been a long-wished-for babe (this I knew, for it had been told to me almost as often as the spindle speech), and when I was born, my parents invited much of the kingdom to my christening, including several women rumored to have magical powers.

"You mean fairies?" I interrupted, knowing she would not speak the word. Lady Brooke was highly religious, which seemed to mean that she believed in witches, who used their magic for evil, but not fairies, who used their powers for good. Still, even at four, I knew about fairies. Everyone did.

"There is no such a thing as fairies," Lady Brooke said. "But yes, people said they were fairies. Your father welcomed them, for he hoped they would bring you magical gifts. But there was one person your father did not invite: the witch Malvolia."

Lady Brooke went on to describe, at great length and in exhausting detail, the beauty of the day, the height of the sun in the sky, and the importance of the christening service. I closed my eyes. But when she attempted to carry me into my bedchamber, I woke and demanded, "What of the spindle?"

"Oh! I thought you were asleep."

I continued to demand to know of the spindle, which led to a lengthy recitation of the gifts I had received from the various guests. I struggled to remain attentive, but I perked up when she began to describe the fairies' gifts.

"Violet gave the gift of beauty, and Xanthe gave the gift of grace, although surely such qualities cannot be given."

I did not see why not. People often remarked upon my beauty and grace.

"Leila gave the gift of musical talent . . ."

I noted, privately, that I was already quite skilled on the harpsichord.

". . . while Celia gave the gift of intelligence. . . ."

It went without saying. . . .

Lady Brooke continued. "Flavia was about to step forward to give the gift of obedienceÑwhich would have been much welcomed, if I do say so myself." She winked at me, but the wink had a hint of annoyance which was notÑI must sayÑappreciated.

"The spindle?" I reminded her, yawning.

"Just as Flavia was ready to step forward and offer her much-desired gift of obedience, the door to the grand banquet hall was flung open. The witch Malvolia! The guards tried to stop her, but she brazened her way past them.

"'I demand to see the child!' she said.

"Your nurse tried to block her way. But quicker than the bat of an eyelash, the nurse was on the floor and Malvolia was standing over your bassinet.

"'Ah.' She seized you and held you up for all to see. 'The accursed babe.'

"Your mother and father tried to soothe Malvolia with tales of invitations lost, but she repeated the word 'accursed,' several times, and then she made good the curse itself.

"'Before her sixteenth birthday, the princess shall prick her finger on a spindle and die!' she roared. And then, as quickly as she had arrived, she was gone. But the beautiful day was ruined, and rain fell freely from the sky."

A Kiss in Time. Copyright © by Alex Flinn. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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