Join Alice as she tumbles down the rabbit hole...
YouTube video book trailer: The Secret Diary of Alice in Wonderland
When life tips your tiara it can hurt like the worst toothache. All princesses endure this at one time or another. Sometimes the only relief from the pain of a tipped tiara is to re-write a fairy tale and mock all the bullies who tried to knock your crown off your head. I found riffing fairy tales to be quite therapeutic.
Alice in Wonderland Alice in Lewis Carroll’s Wonderland is insatiably curious and eager for adventure. Following a white rabbit down a hole she finds a world that skates on the thin edge of logic . My Contemporary Alice Miami real estate broker, Alice Harte, follows the WRONG white rabbit and tumbles into a world populated by mobsters and their nonsense lawyers. The original Alice nibbled on mushrooms and EAT ME cookies to grow in size and strength. Alice Harte relies on Xanax when she stumbles across a beheaded mob boss. Will she keep her own head? And what about love? After all, this is romantic suspense.
How The Secret Diary of Alice in Wonderland, Age 42 and Three-Quarters came to be.
Caught up in a relationship with a British man I met on the Internet in a holiday house exchange, I was jabberwockied to discover he was a professional conman. Like the original Alice, I tired to make sense out of his nonsense. But he confused my logical mind with his caterpillar smoke and mirrors. I had become Alice in Wonderland, and the only way out was through the portal I created by writing my own version of Alice. I became a twister of fairy tales. It’s great fun to use snarky wit to secure the tiaras of not only Alice, but Wendy Darlin, and Zo White.
Both Alices are curious creatures but whereas the original Alice wanted only to escape the world of grownups with her tiara intact; contemporary Alice wants to live in England with a loving partner, and stroll the sheep-lined country lanes. She’d also like to escape her mobster employer.
Unfortunately, Alice Harte is tossed down a dark rabbit hole with murder, mystery, thugs, fish-flingers, and a touch of romance. The usual suspects: the March Hare, Red Queen, and the Tweedles appear in the book, but with a Chandler-esque twist. The Courtroom – real life I found myself in a courtroom not unlike Alice’s encounter with the King, Queen, dormouse, lizard, and playing cards. It was easy to convert a pack of lawyers into a deck of playing cards.
I fastened my tiara, rolled up my sleeves, and jumped in. I hoped that at the end of my godawful experience I would have one heck of a fairy tale to share. In Wonderland, Alice is called as a witness. She accidentally knocks over the jury box with the animals inside. The King orders her to place the animals back into their seats before the trial continues. In my real life courtroom, a portly, pompous lawyer berated me, then without turning, he backed into this seat. He missed the chair and tumbled to the floor knocking over a few stray barristers. When he fell on his bum with an earth- shattering thud, I knew my fairy tale was calling to me. This would make a perfect book.
As I grew in size to the point where the beheading judge was fast falling to pieces, I recalled the part in Wonderland where the Queen orders Alice to be gone, citing Rule 42 "All persons more than a mile high to leave the court.” Alice argues against their silly rule and refuses to leave. The Queen shouts her familiar "Off with her head!" but Alice is unafraid, calling them “just a pack of cards.” The cards and characters swarm over her as she beats them off. This final scene was enough to launch my career as a twister of fairy tales. If your tiara is painfully tipping or your chip has fallen from your shoulder, take one fairy tale and call me in the morning.
Giveaway: One Kindle Copy of The Secret Diary of Alice in Wonderland,
One Kindle Copy of Zo White and the Seven Morphs
One audio copy of Wendy and the Lost Boys
Barbara Silkstone is the best-selling author of the Wendy Darlin Tomb Raider series that includes: Wendy and the Lost Boys, London Broil, Cairo Caper, Miami Mummies, Wendy Darlin Tomb Raider Boxed Set. Her Criminally Funny Fables Romantic Suspense series includes: The Secret Diary of Alice in Wonderland, Age 42 and Three-Quarters; Wendy and the Lost Boys; Zo White and the Seven Morphs. For a squirt of paranormal comedy try: Cold Case Morphs.
True fiction fan? Try: The Adventures of a Love Investigator.
Silkstone’s writing has been described as “perfectly paced and pitched – shades of Janet Evanovich and Carl Hiaasen – without seeming remotely derivative. Fast moving action that shoots from the hip with bullet-proof characterization.” All books are available on Audible.com
Short Excerpt from The Secret Diary of Alice in Wonderland
9:00 a.m. A bell rang and Leslie moved to his seat. The bailiff called the Court to order and the judge entered. We all stood. The judge was female, about fifty-five, with a stubby body. She wore a long white wig like the judge in Alice in Wonderland. Bum luck pulling a lady-judge. I’ve learned that women are usually less compassionate with other women. She wasn’t going to be sympathetic to my flights of fancy. The worst part was she was probably in Leslie’s pocket.
As I slipped into position at our table my straight skirt rose up my legs. I tugged at the hem catching my bracelet on my pantyhose at mid-thigh. I struggled to free the gold links from the tougher than steel fibers of my run-resistant hose. My every movement succeeded in tangling me with myself. My right wrist felt permanently attached to my right thigh eight inches short of being obscene.
As the true horror of my situation sank into my brain, I watched the lawyers take turns going up to the podium to announce their names and whom they represented. Dallas Little was attorney for Leslie Archer. Glick waddled up to the stand, “George Blackstone Glick for the plaintiff, Algernon Green” he said in a big, booming voice.
“And for the Defense?” the judge asked. I was sweating. I couldn’t stay in my seat. You had to walk up and announce yourself.
I edged out of the chair bent over, hobbling, wrist on thigh, and skirt way up where it shouldn’t have been. I tried to act as professional as I could under the circumstances. I flashed the judge a self-deprecating smile. “Alice Harte. I am here today in my own defense, Your Honor. I am pro se.”
I couldn’t reach the microphone on the podium, so I spoke as loudly as I could considering my face was on my stomach.
The courtroom was silent; you could have heard a lawyer drop. The judge looked flabbergasted. “Are you mocking me?” she snapped. “Your Honor I have a problem. May I go behind the bench?” “The correct terminology is ‘May I approach the bench?’”
I hunched forward, pigeon stepping toward her. There were twitters of laughter in the courtroom. The judge banged her gavel. “Silence. Ms. Harte if you are attempting to make a mockery of this court, I will not take it lightly. Now straighten up.”
The judge’s bench was a good three feet taller than my head. I waddled as close as I could and mouthed the words ‘Panty hose are stuck.’ She didn’t get it.
I figured if I could get behind the judicial platform I could take off my panty hose and roll them up with the bracelet and be done with it. The bailiff was one step behind me as I slipped around the bench and under the judge’s chair. I guessed he’d never seen anyone act that way in court before because he stood there dumbstruck and then broke into gales of laughter. The spectators joined him.
The noise was so loud the judge’s gavel-banging couldn’t be heard. It was twenty minutes before they all got quiet and I felt secure enough to walk out from under the judge’s chair. I did so with all the dignity I could muster. I pretended I was Joan of Arc going to the stake.