A Tale of Two Centuries (My Super Sweet Sixteenth Century #2) by Rachel Harris
Publication Date: 6th August 2013 TODAY!
Alessandra D’Angeli is in need of an adventure. Tired of her sixteenth-century life in Italy and homesick for her time-traveling cousin, Cat, who visited her for a magical week and dazzled her with tales of the future, Alessandra is lost. Until the stars hear her plea.
One mystical spell later, Alessandra appears on Cat’s Beverly Hills doorstep five hundred years in the future. Surrounded by confusing gadgets, scary transportation, and scandalous clothing, Less is hesitant to live the life of a twenty-first century teen…until she meets the infuriating—and infuriatingly handsome—surfer Austin Michaels. Austin challenges everything she believes in…and introduces her to a world filled with possibility.
With the clock ticking, Less knows she must live every moment of her modern life while she still can. But how will she return to the drab life of her past when the future is what holds everything she’s come to love?
Deleted scene from A Tale of Two Centuries! A Flirt Squad Exclusive!
After several hours and rejecting more than, as Cat would say, a bazillion selections, we finally make our way home, bags brimming with a half dozen dresses and an array of ankle length skirts. And though our quest to find items that actually cover both my calves and elbows did prove time consuming, that was not really the reason for our extended excursion…it was my complete and utter awe over the vast display of readymade clothing! Modern women no longer have a need to select fabrics and patterns and hire a tailor—they merely step inside a store, choose an item off a rack, and bring it home. Marvelous.
I step inside Cat’s comfortably cool home and slurp the final remains of my creamy beverage. My cousin insisted she needed a ‘sugar fix’ on the way home, so Vivian stopped at a building with bright yellow arches filled with delectable delicacies. A chill seeps down my throat and I close my eyes at the blissful sensation, before recognizing the uncomfortable, full one tightening my stomach.
Wonderful, yet another experience in which to amuse my cousin. Since arriving, I seem to do little else. And though it is quite improper to discuss such topics, I have no other choice but to continue the entertainment now.
I turn to her, my cheeks burning with the ever-present annoying blush, and ask, “Pardon, but may I inquire where your garderobe is located?”
Cat grins in reply—as I expected—and I hang my head, following wordlessly in her wake back to the chamber she called a bathroom. She turns the knob on an interior door, steps inside, and lifts the lid on a bright white object.
“This, my time-traveling ancestor, is a toilet. Much cooler than your stinky garderobe business. See this?” She places her hand on a silver lever located near the top. “This means we have central plumbing.”
She lowers the lever and the toilet goes wild. A loud gurgling, much like the sound of a waterfall, erupts from the basin and I jump back and grip Cat’s arm with a muted squeal. The water pooled inside begins to bubble and fresh water cascades down from the rim above. The rumbling noise recedes to a gentler hiss but just when I think the excitement is over, the basin makes one last hurrah, twirling and whirling the water down the hole at the bottom with a final booming glug.
I slap my hand over my mouth then promptly remove it. “Do it again!”
Cat smiles and rolls her eyes, then pulls me into the tiny alcove. “Yeah, I don’t think so. You can do that when you’re done…using the facilities.”
The need to know where the contents go once they disappear is nearly overwhelming but I refrain from asking, having had quite enough of playing the simpleton cousin for at least one afternoon. But unfortunately, my role as entertaining time traveler plays on, as I do need to clarify matters a bit more. “So I sit on this toilet and, um, use it to…err…. relieve myself?”
My voice rising to a high-pitched squeak at the end does not help the
Pushing my hair from behind my ear and ducking my head to hide my face, I clamp my eyes shut and will this moment over. Oh, why must every new discovery be such an embarrassing revelation?
My cousin, bless her, must take pity on me because I feel her brush past, pausing to give my arm a gentle squeeze. “Yep, nothing to it.” She pauses, and I hear her tap the frame of the door behind me. “So…I’m just gonna be in my room. Er,” she snaps her fingers together, “take your time.”
The door clicks closed and I shake my head. Suddenly, all of Cat’s humorous missteps from when she traveled to my time flash in my mind along with all my resulting merriment and I look to the heavens with a begrudging grin.
Yes, my present embarrassment is an apt form of divine justice.
When my head lowers, my gaze centers again on the silver lever and it is as if my insatiable curiosity is a living, breathing creature inside the alcove with me. I bounce on my toes, gnaw on my lip, and finally give in, shooting my hand out to depress the cool metal. The wondrous performance begins again, and my laughter echoes off the sage colored walls.
Author Bio - Rachel Harris
Rachel Harris grew up in New Orleans, where she watched soap operas with her grandmother and stayed up late sneak reading her mama’s favorite romance novels. Now a Cajun cowgirl living in Houston, she still stays up way too late reading her favorite romances, only now, she can do so openly. She firmly believes life’s problems can be solved with a hot, powdered-sugar-coated beignet or a thick slice of king cake, and that screaming at strangers for cheap, plastic beads is acceptable behavior in certain situations.
When not typing furiously or flipping pages in an enthralling romance, she homeschools her two beautiful girls and watches reality television with her amazing husband. Taste The Heat is her adult romance debut. She’s the author of MY SUPER SWEET SIXTEENTH CENTURY and A TALE OF TWO CENTURIES. She loves hearing from readers! Find her at www.RachelHarrisWrites.com.