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Thomas K. Carpenter writes in diverse genres including: YA dystopia, post-cyberpunk sci-fi, steampunk, historical fantasy, and alternate history. His Top 50 Bestselling series the Alexandrian Saga can be found on Amazon. He lives in St. Louis with his wife, two kids, and one oafishly large labrador retriever. Visit him online at www.thomaskcarpenter.com, or sign up for his newsletter at http://eepurl.com/SxrkH.

The Dashkova Memoirs: Books 1-4 by Thomas K. Carpenter

Exile. Princess. Thief.

After years of running from the Emperor of Russia's assassins, Ekaterina "Kat" Dashkova has finally found an unlikely home in Philadelphia under the tutelage of Benjamin Franklin. Kat must navigate the treacherous waters of American politics while solving supernatural mysteries amid the din of ominous rumblings threatening to drag the country into a new war.

 

REVIEWS

  • "Doctor Who meets Revolutionary America with magic"

    – Amazon Review
  • "'Revolutionary Magic' is a combination of things—alternative history, steampunk and an almost Cthulhu-esque sort of urban fantasy."

    – Amazon Review
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

Chapter One

Some revolutions begin with the gunpowder sonnets of cannon fire, others with the fiery words of tyrannical men. This one began with a middle-aged gentleman wandering the cobblestone streets of Philadelphia in his knickers—and nothing else.

Ben Franklin and I had been called to investigate, not because half-naked mid-level functionaries of the Custom Hall were particularly interesting to the pair of us, or because he'd broken into a Quaker family's home on an idyllic spring afternoon and was caught trying to put on the oldest daughter's beige dress and petticoat. What drew us was the way the man's memory had been cleaved like an apple struck with a saber, suggesting an air of sorcery.

"You say he has no knowledge of what happened to him?" asked Ben with that familiar twinkle in his eye.

The horrified wife, one Harriet Cooper, tugged on the neckline of her muslin gown and glanced at her husband, who was slurping porridge in the other room at the dining table. Her brow knotted and raised, then bunched in the middle with a concern that bordered on exasperation.

"He still thinks it's 1798," she said, then raised her voice. "That was two years ago."