When I first read the blurb of this book it immediately piqued my interest. It mentions Hurricane Charlie (spelt Charley on the blurb) which I lived through during a family holiday in Florida. I even had a t-shirt made saying “I survived Hurricane Charlie”. Yeah, I know, a bit lame of me, but at the time I really did feel like a survivor and it was a bit of fun.
Anyway, enough of my story. It wasn’t only the Hurricane Charley reference that drew me to it, but the whole concept of the story. You’ll see for yourself in a minute! First of all, let’s take a look at the fantastic cover.
This cover is so cool – I love it! And now here’s the all important blurb:
As Hurricane Charley churns a path of destruction towards Orlando, Ronnie Andrews and her best friend, Stephanie McKay, scramble to prepare for the storm. Ronnie seeks shelter at her boyfriend’s weather lab while Steph heads back to her house.
During the peak of the storm Ronnie is hurtled back in time to eighteenth-century London where she is caught in a web of superstition, deception, and lies in a life and death struggle to return to her own time.
Steph is thrust into the middle of the hurricane, but it quickly turns into a living nightmare as she is faced with losing everything.
Can you see now why I found the concept intriguing? And the good news – this is book one of a trilogy, so if you fall in love with the characters and story, you know there are two more on the way.
Guess who’s been lucky enough to score an exclusive excerpt just for you? Yep – me! And here it is:
A strange feeling bubbled in her stomach. Ronnie got up and slipped on Jeffrey’s T-shirt and found her underwear in a pile of clothes near the desk. The feeling worsened. Was she going to be sick? Jeffrey was busy at his computer and she quietly made her way to the small bathroom and closed the door behind her. Was it something she had eaten?
The cold water felt good as she splashed it on her face. Ronnie looked at her reflection in the mirror. No outward signs of being ill. Too much champagne? She took a deep breath in an attempt to quell the rising nausea. The room spun and she sat down on the toilet, head in her hands. Sweat broke out on her face and she knelt down to lift the toilet seat. “Oh crap!”
A sudden change in air pressure overwhelmed her, making her drop on all fours. Her ears popped and she swallowed trying to clear them. Was the storm intensifying?
An agonizing bright light seared into her eyes and she squeezed them shut in an attempt to block it out, without success.
The building must have been struck by lightning! Struck by lightning. Struck by lightning. She could hear her father’s voice reading The Hobbit to her as a young girl. A pang of sadness added to the confusion.
A low vibration shook the bathroom tiles. A dark mist sucked away all light. Ronnie was flattened to the floor by some unseen force and couldn’t fight it. Strange smells assaulted her—horse manure, almonds, and wet soil. She pressed the side of her face against the cool cement floor in an attempt to stop the dizzy spin of the room.
What the hell was happening? A chill ran up her spine. Nothing about this was right. Fear choked out any rational thoughts. She tried to call out to Jeffrey but her body was paralyzed, her voice disconnected. It was a living breathing nightmare.
A gut-wrenching tearing ripped apart her soul. She tried to scream. Ronnie floated up to the ceiling to see a lifeless shape on the bathroom floor below, surprised to see anything in the dark. Holy crap, that was her own long blonde hair spilled across the concrete floor. She reached out to touch her arm but was jerked a million miles an hour upwards into the darkness.
Shadows engulfed her. A sensation of motion disturbed her equilibrium. She was hurtling up into the ebony sky and away from her body splayed in Jeffrey’s lab. Her arms reached for something to hold onto, to make it stop, but came up empty.
Was she dying? There was supposed to be a calming bright light to head towards. Instead there was only emptiness, a buzzing that lulled her to an empty dark place similar to the twilight just before falling asleep—alert, yet fuzzy and drifting into oblivion. It sped up, she could feel the wind on her face, her hair whipped behind her, but now she was falling like a rocket returning to Earth, pulling her down, stretching her towards destruction.
So is this when Steph goes back in time to 18th century London? I’m not saying – you’ll have to buy the book to find out!
The book launches today and is available here:
inktera and Page Foundry:
Let’s find out a little more about the author.