Reflections
Jena Baxter
About The Book
Title: Reflections
Author: Jena Baxter
Publisher: Independent Self Publishing /
Jenabaxterbooks
Publication Date: October 31, 2013
Pages: 320
ISBN: 978-0991167715
Genre: YA / Historical Fantasy
Format: Paperback, eBook (.mobi / Kindle),
PDF
When Juliette has a domestic servant beaten for pursuing a young
man above her station, she finds herself cursed by a witch to live in a world
behind her own mirror. She is unable to leave except on the first night of a
full moon.
Juliette is forced to seek what food and shelter the new world
provides with the help of a unicorn, a man who is half bear, and a centaur.
Together they struggle to survive against lions, wolves, and the challenges of
watching their friends live and die through the back of the mirror, as their
own world, family and friends moves on without them.
Reflections begins in Regency era London, and ends in Clover
Springs, California, an all but abandoned Gold Rush town.
A tale of love, friendship, and facing unavoidable challenges.
Book Review:
I was given a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. This in no way influenced my review of the book.
Reflections is filled with action, adventure, and fantastical elements. This fantasy novel satisfied my desire for unicorns, witches and other mystical characters. The plot was engaging and adventurous. I loved the characters! At the beginning Juliette was a royal brat, but I loved to hate her character. I loved how spoiled she was and how that reflected her attitude towards others.
I loved this book so much throughout. I have only a few minor complaints. There was a bit of sexual innuendo and foul language.
If you love adventurous fantasy novels, this is the book for you. Pick it up now at your local (or online) book store.
Book Excerpt:
“Have
a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that
never hurts.” --Charles Dickens
Chapter 1
London,
England. 1807
Juliette shut
the front door behind her, and slowly climbed down the stairs of her home,
cringing at every creek of the steps.
She walked down the paved road, back straight and chin up, until the
house was out of view. She looked around,
pulled off her bonnet, and ran all the way to the beach.
Stopping to
catch her breath, she scanned the riverbank until she spotted Emily, gazing
into the clouds above the Thames. It was
a gray and dreary day, but a fisherman stood in the water trying to entice the
fish, and a few people were scattered along the shoreline. Sea birds flew back and forth, seeking a
tasty morsel. Juliette joined Emily, and
sat in the scrub.
“It took you a
long time to get here,” Emily said, smiling.
“Sorry, it’s my
birthday and mother is hosting a party tonight.
I had to sneak out of the house, but no one saw me. Then I ran all the
way here.”
Emily
shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” She held out her arm, and opened her
hand. “I made this for you.”
Juliette took
the hair pin with a tattered yellow ribbon tied in a bow attached to it.
Emily’s cheeks
colored. “Sorry it’s not new.”
Juliette hugged her. “It’s wonderful. Thank you. I have to go back now, before they notice me
gone,” she said, pushing the pin carefully into her hair.
“Okay, I’ll go with you. How old are
you today?”
Juliette smiled. “I’m six years old,” she said, as they made
their way back to the road. “How old are
you?”
“Seven, since last month.” She ran dirty hands down her tattered and
stained black dress.
“Look!”
Juliette stopped, and pointed toward the water.
Emily followed the direction of her
finger. “Oh! What a beautiful chestnut horse.”
Juliette shook her head, ringlets
blowing in the wind. “No, it’s not a
horse. It’s a unicorn sighting for my
birthday.” She continued walking toward
the road.
“But unicorns aren’t real,” Emily said,
looking back at the animal.
“How do you know they aren’t real? That horse has a black horn. Trust me, that’s a unicorn.”
They stepped onto the dirt road.
“I’ll race you there!” Juliette yelled.
Laughing, they ran until they found
Mrs. Barrows waiting at the front door of Juliette’s home. Juliette went silent and ran to her
mother. Emily stopped in the road.
“Where have you been? Look at your hair, it’s a mess … and what is
that ugly thing sticking out of it?”
Mrs. Barrows swiped the pin off
Juliette’s head. She winced as strands
of her hair fell with the ribbon to the ground.
Juliette followed her mother’s eyes as
she glared at Emily, standing on the road.
“What have I told you about spending
your time with people like that, Juliette?
That girl has no business talking to you, and you have no business
playing with our domestic help.”
“But she’s not our domestic help,
Mother.”
“The girl is as good as employed by
this household with her aunt Zylphia, working here.”
“I don’t want to see you with her
again. Do you understand me? What if someone saw you?” Mrs. Barrows shrieked. “You embarrass the entire family associating
with people like that, Juliette. Get in
the house!”
Juliette jumped when the door slammed
shut behind her.
Juliette picked up a glass of punch and
sat with the children attending the party.
She watched her mother laugh and sip tea with her guests. The children chattered beside her, she
ignored them. Her mother had made it
clear that the only reason she hadn’t received a strapping was so she could sit
down at the party. Juliette struggled
with the sting of tears, holding them back, but just barely.
Margaret sashayed over, and stood with
her hands on her hips. She always has something to say about
everything. Juliette frowned,
waiting. All of the children stared at
her.
“I heard you were playing with a
servant girl today. Robert Beale said he
saw you running and laughing on the road like it was the most normal thing in
the world. You’re liable to get a disease
spending your time with something like that.”
“It’s not your business, Margaret. I’ll spend time with whomever I want.”
“Suit yourself, but I don’t want any
part of that, or you.” Margaret lifted
her chin and joined the other children.
Juliette turned to see her mother, who
had been just out of view. Her knuckles
white as the dish she held.
“Go to your room, Juliette.”
Tears spilled down Juliette’s
cheeks. She tried to think of something
to say, but couldn’t. She ran to her
room.
Minutes later the razor-strap slammed
into her bare buttocks. The humiliation
of knowing the party heard her screams was part of her punishment. When the governess finished, she had been instructed
to return Juliette to the party where she remained until the last guest
departed.
Her mother turned to her. “Get to your room. I don’t want to see your face again tonight.”
Juliette obeyed moving much slower than
before. Her bottom and the back of her
legs stung with welts. She crawled onto
the bed, and wept into her pillow.
Ten Years Later
Juliette grunted, eyebrows narrowed as
Emily tightened the laces on her corset, pulling her breasts straight and
high. She slipped the heavily
embroidered bodice on each arm, then smoothed the fabric with her hands. When she was finished, she bowed her head,
and backed out of the room.
Juliette moved right and left, twisting
at the waist to admire herself in the mirror. She was wearing her favorite
dress, white embroidered muslin, with a gathered bust, tiers of ruffles at the
bottom, and long sleeves with small puffy shoulders.
“I’ll be ready to go in five minutes,
Emily,” Juliette called, from her bedroom door.
“Be sure to get a basket from the kitchen.”
That
girl always has her head in the clouds.
Let’s see, all I need now is … she fumbled through a small grey hatbox
on the bureau … a head dress. Juliette turned back to the mirror,
pushing the comb through her hair to hold the head dress in place. When her ensemble was finished she
smiled. Perfect. She looked good,
but the sun was streaming through her bedroom window and the layers of the
shift and petticoat were already making her hot.
Rushing down the stairs, underskirts
rustling with every movement, the wooden planks creaked with every step. She called for Emily, and found her at the
bottom, putting on her plain white bonnet.
The picnic basket sat on the floor beside her scuffed black shoes. Juliette’s mother stood at a table near the
hearth, brown ringlet curls hanging perfectly down her back, her deceptively
warm brown eyes belying the severity of her anger. She threw some coins into a small purse. Ignoring Emily, Juliette went straight to her
mother, and held out her hand. Mrs.
Barrows dropped the beaded, pink and yellow purse into it.
“It is absolutely absurd,” Mrs. Barrows
said louder than she needed to. “That I
should have to send my own daughter to buy what is needed because of dishonest
servants. My husband pays a generous
wage. You have no reason to steal from
us or anyone else. All of your salaries
will be fined a farthing. Not just this
time, but every time I send Juliette to the market.”
She turned back to Juliette. “Don’t be late, darling. The dressmaker needs to take some
measurements for a new dress,” Mrs. Barrows said, fingering some of the new materials
she had purchased, sitting on the back of a pink and white sofa.
Juliette grinned as her mother kissed
her cheeks.
“Don’t worry, Mother. I won’t be long.”
Juliette walked out the door with Emily
trailing behind her.
Juliette closed her eyes at the bright
morning sunshine. She crinkled her nose
and opened them again at the smell of fresh baked bread. There were vendors with carts selling
household goods and colorful linens, and a cobbler had a table set up along the
street. A woman with chubby cheeks and
braided corn silk hair, sold flowers of every color, and across the road a
young boy knelt, breeches tight, as he shined the shoes of a man in a brown
suit and hat. A black carriage drove
through the village square, horse hooves clip clopping on grey and brown
cobblestones.
Emily cried out and crashed into
Juliette. Juliette pushed her away, then
slapped her without a thought. A thin
young man with dark hair, brown eyes, and the longest eyelashes Juliette had
ever seen jumped in front of Emily.
Emily’s hand rested on the angry red mark forming on her right cheek,
and she was weeping. Juliette smoothed
her skirt mumbling under her breath. I am going to kill her when we get
home. The stupid little sheep.
“Please excuse us, Jonathan, this fool
of a girl--“
Jonathan’s hands waved back and
forth. “No, Miss Barrows. Please, I am sorry. The fault was my own, not the servant
girl’s.”
Juliette smiled. “This one is inept and bumbling at times.”
Jonathan reached into his bag and
pulled out a muslin pouch. He held the
contents in front of Juliette. “Turkish
Delight. Would you like one? A small offering to make up for the trouble I
caused.”
Juliette’s smile lit up her face. “Yes, thank you.” She chose a red square powdered with sugar
from the pouch.
Jonathan held the bag out to Emily.
Juliette’s eyes flashed. What is he doing? Why is he even speaking to her? She’s a servant! Emily shook her head back and forth, then
looked away. Jonathan held them closer.
“Please, I insist.”
With a trembling hand, Emily took one,
but before she could eat the sweet, Juliette pointed to the basket.
“We need to go. I have an appointment this afternoon.” The courtesy was a show for Jonathan’s
sake. She would take care of Emily at
home. “If you’ll excuse us Jonathan, we
really must be on our way. Thank you for
the sweetmeats.”
Juliette purchased the potatoes and
carrots Cook required, the dirty-faced farmer extended his thanks, and she
turned to see Jonathan smiling at Emily.
The girl looked away, but not before her cheeks colored. Juliette had had enough. She grabbed Emily’s arm.
“Good day, Jonathan.”
Juliette had never been so embarrassed
in her life. A servant girl! And one that was
stumbling all over the place. What was
he thinking? No! What was she thinking?
Juliette stormed up wooden steps and
through the door without waiting for Emily to open it. “Mother!”
Emily wept openly.
“Emily was flirting with Mrs. Walsh’s
son. She even received a gift from him.”
Mrs. Barrow’s porcelain face darkened,
and her fingers clutched the folds of her dress as Juliette recounted the
story. Moments later, Juliette’s mother
grabbed Emily’s arm and pulled her to the Governess’ room. A heavyset woman in a plain black dress and
long white apron, her brown hair tucked beneath her bonnet, sat at an old oak
desk looking grim. The room was modest,
with only a narrow bed, and a plain wooden bureau against the opposite
wall. The only color was a handmade
quilt the woman had made for herself, and a full-length blue dress hanging in a
tiny closet.
Agnes stood when Mrs. Barrows entered
the room, and stared at Emily, blue eyes icy cold. The Governess opened a drawer, and pulled out
the razor strap used for disciplining the household.
Emily’s sobs grew louder, her eyes wide. She grimaced, shaking her head
frantically.
“No,” Emily whined, looking at the
thick leather with three long flexible straps. “No, please.” Her sobs grew louder still as the Governess
dragged her out the door to a wooden shed.
Juliette’s mother smiled as Emily began
to scream incoherently. Standing by the
new material, they heard the whack of leather meeting the flesh of Emily’s bare
backside.
Juliette fingered the soft new pink and
yellow fabrics, frowning. I’m not fond of yellow. Mother knows that.
“Emily will be indisposed for a while,
Mother. Could you send Bessie up, please? I really need to freshen up before we
leave.”
“Of course, dear.”
Juliette bustled up the stairs, hands
clutching her skirt, listening to Emily scream.
That’s too bad. She won’t be flirting or accepting treats from
boys above her station anymore. But
she shivered inwardly. Juliette knew
well what it meant to be on the receiving end of that strap. She had been beaten for spending time with
Emily when they were girls. Juliette was
younger then, and hadn’t understood how important it was not to entertain
people below her station. She knew
better now. Emily wouldn’t be able to
sit for a week. Perhaps then she would
learn her lesson and not entertain people above her station.
Juliette entered her room, letting the
door shut behind her, and took off her head dress.
Bessie entered the bedroom, picked up
the brush and pulled it through Juliette’s curls. Her hands trembled and she winced at every
thwack of the strap on, Emily’s, bared flesh.
At one point she wiped a tear from her eye. Juliette smiled, and ignored her.
Zylphia dusted a lampshade trimmed with
burgundy roses. She had already gone
over the end tables and swept the floors.
She tucked runaway strands of brown hair under her already loose bun,
and saw something smeared on the wall.
Emily walked in, concealing her face, and staring at the floor.
Zylphia motioned with her hands as she
spoke. “Emily, go get me a cleaning
cloth for the wall. Bessie will get one
for you. They’re in the kitchen.”
Emily nodded her acknowledgement to the
floor, stiffly leaving the room. Zylphia
stared after her. What is wrong with her today?
Emily had always been a shy girl.
She was quiet, but that was expected of a domestic servant. You did what you were told, bowed and backed
out of the room as quiet as you could, hoping that no one would hear you. These things had never been a problem for her
niece. That was why Zylphia had brought
her here. She got along with everyone,
was quiet, kept her own counsel, and took her work seriously.
Emily returned with the cloth. Zylphia watched her shuffle across the room.
“Why are you walking like that? Come here.”
Emily’s speed picked up. She whined and winced, until she slowed
down. She gave Zylphia the towel.
“What is wrong with you? Look at me when I talk to you, girl!”
Emily looked up. Zylphia saw chocolate brown eyes, similar to
her own, except they were red, sad, and swollen. Her brown hair was a tangled mess. She took Emily’s hand.
“Come with me.”
Emily obeyed, but wept all the way to,
Zylphia’s, bedroom. Zylphia removed
Emily’s white apron, and black uniform dress.
Zylphia gasped, fire red welts blistered, and covered Emily’s buttocks
and the back of her legs.
“Who did this to you?”
Emily told Zylphia about the boy at the
marketplace, the candy, and Juliette’s anger.
“I tried to say no, but he insisted.”
Tears fell down already swollen cheeks.
“I t-tried to s-s-say no. I didn’
know what t-to do.”
Heat flushed through Zylphia. She pulled a jar of ointment from under her
mattress, and slathered it over Emily’s welts.
The response was immediate.
Zylphia couldn’t take away the welts, that would have been too obvious,
but the swelling went down, and the redness faded. Emily shuddered, then sighed with relief.
“It’s over now.” And I’m
going to make certain it won’t happen again. “Go back to work. It’s alright.”
“What are you going to do? Please don’t curse her Aunt Zylphia. We were friends once. She even gave me a doll when we were small.”
“Juliette isn’t the person you used to
know, child. She’s grown to be callous,
and cruel. Trust me to know what to
do. She needs to pay for what she’s
done. You need to help in the
kitchen. Now go.”
Emily looked skeptical, but did what
she was told.
“Why can’t I take Bessie?” Juliette demanded. “I don’t want that insolent girl anywhere
near me.”
“I’m sure you don’t, darling, but
Bessie has chores to do for your father.
The only other servant I can send with you right now is Zylphia.”
“I don’t want Zylphia.” Juliette stomped her foot. “She’s not normal.” That
one hardly knows her station, and the way she looks at me is frightening sometimes.
I don’t trust her. “Mother!”
“That’s enough, Juliette. Take both if you choose, but Bessie cannot
go.”
“Emily!
Zylphia! Get down here. Now!”
Moments later, Emily and Zylphia
entered the room.
Purchase
The Book:
About the Author
Born in Ojai, and raised in the San Fernando Valley, California,
Jena always loved to read, and dreamed of writing a novel. Having the ability,
but lacking the confidence to do so, she enrolled in the UCLA Writer’s
Extension, and soon her first novel was in process.
Jena writes YA, historical fantasy, and paranormal romance. She
is also a screenwriter, and reads for a screenwriting contest annually. She
spends her free time with her husband, amazon parrot, and toy maltese. You can
visit her website at www.jenabaxter.com.
Connect with Jena:
Book Trailer Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kDUm-9IDiN8
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