Paranormal/Fantasy Time-Travel Romance
Date Published: March 3, 2020
Publisher: Ink & Magick
Chicago journalist Erin Nichols isn’t about to give up when she’s fired for writing an exposé. But when a combination of murder, magic, and celestial events transports her through time and space to 1900 western Canada, city hall corruption becomes the least of her worries.
But the past isn’t any safer. Awaking to learn she may be the victim of some unknown crime, Erin takes shelter with the local Mountie—the picture of upright Canadian fortitude. As tragedy stalks the nearby First Nation reserve, Erin learns from a Romanian mystic that magic is dying, and the fae are turning to their darker natures to survive.
While the reserved and sexy Mountie helps her navigate a time in which she doesn’t belong, the mysterious and seductive conjurer helps her try to find a way home. As they alight feelings and desires Erin never knew she was capable of, she begins to wonder where she truly belongs.
Excerpt
The ceiling was rustic wood and four empty coat hooks hung
just above the headboard of the bed I was lying on.
Seeing light from the corner of my eye, I turned my head
toward it. The small room had another bed near the window, an iron stove in one
corner, and a small table with two chairs in the other. The walls were made of
the same rustic wood as the ceiling. Outside, the repetitive sound stopped. A
few moments later, the door opened to reveal a man carrying an armful of wood.
His scarlet coat and Stetson hat announced his profession.
“What the shit? A Mountie?” I gaped, jolting upright. My
joints ached, and my skin smarted as though I was covered in bruises.
“I see you’re awake. How are you feeling?” the Mountie
asked.
“Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here?” My panicked
voice sounded unfamiliar in my ears.
He walked over to the corner and stacked the wood near the
stove. “You must have hit your head pretty hard there. I’m Constable Delaforet.
You’re in Farrloch. As for how you got here, I found you in the forest near the
barracks, half-clothed, unconscious, and chilled to the bone. I carried you in
here.”
Farrloch? Alberta?
I eyed the Mountie, squinting suspiciously, as he removed
his hat and placed it on the table.
His steady voice sounded as though he was trying to calm a
frightened animal, and his light blue eyes were soft with pity. His brown hair
was tousled from his hat, and his face was shadowed by what looked like two-day
stubble. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties, around my age.
I took in his strong, broad shoulders and solid frame, and I
knew I wouldn’t make it past him if he tried to stop me.
I was unconscious in a
forest in Canada after I got hit by a train in Chicago? I looked under the
blanket at what I was wearing. He said I was
half-naked.
I wore what seemed to me to be pajamas: white cotton capris
with lace cuffs and a short-sleeved chemise.
What the…? Okay, this obviously isn’t real. I must be in a coma somewhere.
I nodded to myself before swinging my bare feet out of bed.
“You should rest, Miss,” Constable Delaforet advised as I
got to my feet. When the blanket fell away to reveal my pajamas, he cleared his
throat and averted his eyes.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. I mean, what can happen in a coma dream anyway? I marveled at how
vivid everything was. It didn’t feel at all like a dream. Then again, I’d never
been in a coma before, so maybe it was normal.
I took a few steps toward the Mountie, amazed at the feeling
of the cold floorboards under my feet. Delaforet instinctively reached out to
steady me when I wobbled a little. His large hands were warm on my shoulders.
“Miss, I really must insist you rest until you’re well. At
the very least, you can’t go out in your undergarments.”
Undergarments? What
kind of coma dream is this? “Tell me, Dudley, what year is it in this
coma-created world?”
His eyebrows pulled together in concern. “Miss, this is very
much the real world. We just celebrated the turn of a new century. It is 1900.
Please, it’s clear you’re disoriented.”
I allowed him to lead me back to bed. 1900, huh? My subconscious is amazing. Everything is so detailed.
I stared at Delaforet’s profile as he tucked my legs under
the blankets. Have I seen him somewhere
before? I’ve heard that your brain never dreams faces it hasn’t seen. Where
would I have seen such a hot guy? I feel like I’d remember that. A movie? Well,
since this is a dream, I can do whatever I want. Right?
About the Author
D. writes stories she wants to read. Her love of the worlds of fiction led her to earn a Bachelor’s in English from Wright State University.
When she isn’t reading or writing, she’s probably hiking, crafting, watching anime, Korean television, Bollywood, or old movies. She may also be getting her geek on while planning her next steampunk cosplay with friends.
She lives in Wisconsin with her husband (John) and cats (Yin and Nox).
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