A spirited rising stage star…

Adele Astaire was a glittering, glamorous star, dancing with her brother, Fred, endearing herself to audiences from New York to London. But although she is toasted by royalty and beloved by countless fans, Adele Astaire has dreams of a loving husband and a houseful of children. And when she meets Lord Charles Cavendish, her wishes may just come true—but at what cost?

A determined young dancer …

Ever since Violet Wood could walk she’s wanted to dance on the London stage. Befriended by Adele, filled with ambition, she is more than willing to make the sacrifices it will take to become a star herself, and her rags-to-riches hopes are within reach. But the road to fame is never easy.

Two women with unquenchable spirit …

From the fast-paced world of roaring 20s New York to the horrors and sacrifice of wartime London, Adele's and Violet’s lives intertwine, and each must ask themselves is fame worth the price you must pay?

Excerpt

The colossal steamship Aquitania loomed at the pier, its four great red-and-black stacks puffing clouds of grayishwhite smoke. My breath mirrored those hazy swirls, and I tucked my fur stole around my neck. The ocean liner was massive, its many decks lined with hundreds of windows and portholes. A floating skyscraper, if there were such a thing.

I wondered, as I stared at the streamlined floating tank—all the layers on top of one another and each strata representing something different—where did I, mentally, fit in? With the glitz and glam of first class, the hopes and dreams of the passengers in second, or the raw determination of those lost in third? The control and precision of the captain’s deck or the chaos of the laborers shoveling coal deep in the bowels? All stacked neatly and looking cohesive from the outside. Perhaps I belonged on the promenade, hurrying around the perimeter until called to enter one of the levels. From my personal attempts to balance ambition with insecurity, glamour with grit, I knew that nothing was ever as perfectly put together as it seemed.

I caught my brother, Freddie, watching me curiously, his hazel eyes a lighter shade than my dark brown. I was taller than he when we were kids, but somehow he’d soared past me, leaving me at a few inches over five feet. My little brother had become my big brother. Our mother, Ann, held his arm, the bow on the side of her green cloche hat fluttering in the wind, a slight smile on her still-young face. Which layer of the ship were they—control, chaos, hope, determination?

“Would you look at that, Delly?” Freddie used my nickname, a play on Adele, then glanced back at the steamship in awe. “Our whole future before us.”

Our whole future—success or failure. Ever since we were kids, we’d boarded trains, traversing America on the vaudeville circuit, and then spent the past six years on Broadway. Neither one of us had ever set foot on a ship. This trip represented a major shift in our show-business careers—a debut on the London stage. A chance to show the world that we were rising stars. After nearly two decades of dancing, singing, and acting together, we were at last bursting onto a scene that we’d been clamoring for, with all the glamour and influence it brought.

Hopes and dreams.

But I couldn’t help asking myself—did I want it? I’d been working since I was eight years old. The sacrifices I’d made to get here—friendship, romance, rest from my constant exhaustion, a life—how much longer was I willing to put up with days that consisted only of rehearse-perform-sleep, on constant repeat? I didn’t ask for this . . .

“Everyone keeps calling it the ‘Ship Beautiful,’ but I don’t see it,” I teased. “It’s a massive hunk of black-and-white metal.”

I was nervous as hell about trudging up that gangway and onto a miraculously floating liner that looked heavy enough to sink. I tucked a loose dark tendril beneath my camel cloche hat and prayed our ship didn’t run into an iceberg like the Titanic had on its maiden voyage eleven years ago. The Aquitania had been built to emulate the Titanic in luxury and comfort, but at least this vessel was outfitted with enough lifeboats, should we run into similar trouble.

We weren’t the first in our family to set sail. Four years before I was born, Pop—now stuck back in Omaha—had made the trip from Austria to Ellis Island, leaving his parents and siblings behind. If he could survive a trans-Atlantic voyage, then I supposed we could, too. After all, we were living his dream a generation later. Making it big on stage, something he’d wanted to do himself.

Determination. Lost.

I think my fear of drowning now was more figurative than literal. For the first eight years of my life, I was Adele Austerlitz of Omaha. Daughter of Fritz—an immigrant, Catholic convert of Jewish Austrian descent—and Johanna—a first-generation American Prussian. I was sister to Freddie from the time I was three. Then, suddenly, I was Adele Astaire from New York City. A name that was less Austrian, less controversial. A name for a star.

I’d been Adele Astaire for so long, I didn’t even know who Adele Austerlitz was anymore, or whom she might have become. Sometimes I wanted to know. The rest of the time, I brushed it off. After all, the show must go on.

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About the Author

Eliza Knight is an award-winning and USA Today bestselling author. Her love of history began as a young girl when she traipsed the halls of Versailles. She is a member of the Historical Novel Society and Novelists, Inc., and the creator of the popular historical blog, History Undressed. Knight lives in Maryland with her husband, three daughters, two dogs and a turtle.