It’s senior year and all I can think of is escaping. I just never counted on tumbling into another time, and an alternate reality. History had never been my best subject, and being stuck in a place that didn’t have the creature comforts of the twenty-first century should have been a nightmare. And it might have been... if it weren’t for the handsome men vying for my attention. When I’d wished that magic and things like vampires were real, I should have been more careful because my two suitors are a demon and a werewolf. What could possibly go wrong?
WARNING: Recommended for ages 17+ due to strong language and adult situations.
*Publisher Note: This story was originally published as The Demon’s Princess by Jessie Colter in 2010. As of 2020, the book has been re-titled, and 6000 words worth of new scenes have been added. It has been freshly edited and has a new cover.
More From Otherworldly
Atlanta - 1896
As I opened my eyes, I realized that I no longer lay in my bedroom at home. Where the canopy on my bed should have been, I saw an empty space. Four posts made of intricately carved cherry climbed toward the ceiling, a ceiling more ornate than any I had seen before. Detailed moldings adorned the corners, and a Murano glass chandelier hung in the middle of the room.
My eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room and I looked around. Lush antiques surrounded me, from the bed in which I lay to a Tiffany lamp on the dresser. I pushed myself up onto my elbows and surveyed the room in confusion.
How did I end up here? And where, exactly, is here?
I pushed myself into a sitting position and studied the room more intently. Everything dated to the late 1800’s. I’d only ever seen rooms this grand in museums. As I glanced down at myself, I realized I no longer wore the sleeveless satin nightgown I had picked up at the store the week before. Now I had on a long gown with smocking along the bodice. The high neck choked me, and I tugged at the material. The lace at the edge of the sleeves scratched my neck.
Maybe I’m dreaming. That has to be it!
I no sooner had that fleeting thought than I heard a noise in the hall. Frozen, I watched the knob of the door slowly turn. As the door opened, a young maid, in a simple black dress and apron, entered the room bearing a tray laden with food and drink.
“Good morning, Miss,” the woman said as she bustled into the room. She set the tray across my lap, and then turned to push back the curtains over the windows.
As light illuminated the bedroom, my heart lurched and raced, making me feel like Alice down the rabbit hole. Obviously, I wasn’t dreaming as I had hoped, but if not that, then what? Only a crazy person would consider the alternative.
“Miss Caden, would you like me to lay out your blue day dress?” the maid asked.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound would come out. I stared at the maid, wide eyed. What in the world is a day dress? And who is Miss Caden?
“Miss, are you all right?” the maid asked, her brow furrowed in concern.
Apparently, I was Miss Caden. I snapped my mouth shut and nodded. Better to play it safe and go along. “I had an odd dream,” I said softly. “I dreamt that I had travelled through time.”
The maid smiled. “Well, you’re back where you belong now. Right here in Atlanta in 1896.”
I choked on the juice I'd been sipping.
1896? Did she just say 1896?
The maid frowned at me again. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
I nodded, still gasping for air. “I’m fine,” I managed to choke out.
“And the dress? Do you want the blue day dress for today?”
“I’m sure that one will be fine,” I replied, still having no clue what a day dress was, or what type of response would be typical.
The maid eyed me uncertainly, but walked to the closet and removed a long-sleeved blue dress with a high neck. Laying the dress out across the bedside chair, the maid glanced at me once more before taking her leave.
Alone again, I eyed the dress while I munched on my toast. The long sleeves puffed at the top and then tapered to the wrist. The neckline would come to the base of my neck. I worried about tripping over the floor-length hem. Do they really expect me to wear that? I’ll be clawing at my neck all day for sure.
I could only hope I would awaken from this nightmare before I actually had to put the blasted thing on. I still couldn’t quite grasp that I was really and truly in Atlanta in the year 1896, and apparently inhabiting someone else’s body. It seemed completely impossible – and yet, here I was. What in the world could a modern girl like me do in a situation like this? I didn’t know anything about the proper manners and such of this era. For the first time ever, I wished I'd paid more attention in history class.
