Archaeologist Sarah Baxter just broke one of the biggest rules of time travel: leaving a piece of 21st century equipment in 19th century Regency England. Unfortunately, when she goes back to retrieve it, she makes an even bigger mess of things--resulting in the death of an English Earl.
Now his brother is not only out for revenge, but he also has Sarah's device. Which means an entirely different approach is needed. It doesn't occur to the new Earl of Earnston that his charming acquaintance is responsible for his brother's death. He is merely swept away by a passion that threatens his very reputation. Yet he gets the distinct impression that Miss Baxter is hiding something from him.
Now Sarah must find a way to steal back her device, hide the truth about the earl's brother and--most importantly-- not fall in love...
A Stolen Season is a time travel romance that I've just released into audio and I'm now looking to publish into multiple languages. The book is well received with over 56 amazon reviews, 62% of those five stars.
England 1817 – Kent
Sarah shifted in the saddle, the weight of her saturated clothes heavy on her shoulders and hindering her seat. The horse’s pounding hooves, as loud as a drum, echoed in her ears. She kicked her mount and urged him over a small hedgerow, her determination not to be caught overriding her common sense.
Rain streamed down her face, but she couldn’t stop. The future of TimeArch depended on it. Her father’s years of research. The hundreds of hours spent working on man’s greatest, most sought-after ability. Sarah slowed her mount to canter through a fast moving ford, the stones causing the horse to stumble, making the short trip across painfully slow. Time was up. She had to get away. Though the horse grappled and slipped up the other side of the muddy bank to continue on, apprehension still threatened to close her throat in panic.
The mount missed a step, and Sarah clutched the saddle, cursing the weather. She flashed a glance over her shoulder and cried out her frustration into the sheeting rain at the sight of the Earl of Earnston not two horse-lengths behind.
His gaze held hers, and with fearless determination, he urged his mount beside, clutching for her reins.
“Let go.” Sarah punched his hand and kicked out, trying to push him away. All in vain, as it seemed nothing could deter his resolve.
“What does it do?” he yelled, pulling on her reins.
The horses bumped hard, and Sarah fought for balance. “Let go, Lord Earnston. You’ll kill us both.”
