EPIC EBooks Award Finalist in Science Fiction Romance
The Romance Reviews Finalist for Best in Historical Fantasy/Paranormal
What happens when science meets legend.
Facts rule twenty-first century astronomer Caroline’s life. Until the day she enters an unusual gazebo with two doors, and a man she’ll never see again strides by outside.
She plunges through the gazebo’s back doorway—into Regency England.
Richard doesn’t know what to make of this woman who claims she’s from the future. He’s a mathematician—there’s no such thing as time travel. But the lady is lost and alone, and he helps the stranded wayfarer.
Attraction grows and love blossoms between these two lonely people. But in the background, Richard’s family legend grinds to its ultimate fulfillment, to keep them together or tear them apart forever?
A mainstream Regency time travel romance with science fiction elements. 34,000 words. A new version of the previous work, expanded and completely rewritten.
Caroline followed him into the kitchen.
He stepped up to the banked fire.
Fire? Where were the stove and refrigerator? And all the chrome and stainless steel of the ultramodern kitchen where she had breakfasted this morning? This kitchen contained a scarred wood trestle table surrounded by several chairs. Pots and pans hung on wall racks, the shiny metal reflecting the dim firelight. A cupboard stood against the far wall, next to a sink with a pump.
With shaking hands, she set the lantern on the table. Then she pulled out one of the chairs and sagged into the seat.
She was in trouble, very deep trouble.
His back to her, her host busied himself at the fireplace. He placed the candelabrum on the mantel above the hearth and then drew aside the fire screen. Dropping onto his haunches, he pulled several logs from the nearby basket and then arranged the wood into a neat pile on the smoldering embers. Almost at once, the flames blazed to full, roaring life.
Silhouetted against the light, he straightened and then replaced the screen. He removed his hat, and, with a flick of his wrist, tossed the headgear onto the table.
Her jaw sagged. Good heavens, the aggravating man was gorgeous. Tall and lean, his broad shoulders tapered to narrow hips and long legs. But where had he found that outlandish outfit? He wore a top hat, out here in the middle of nowhere. His shirt collar was turned up and held in place with a huge white tie. And his waist-length, double-breasted jacket had tails, like an orchestra conductor’s. Muddy black boots with the tops turned down came up to his knees. Skintight trousers, or were those breeches—of all things?—emphasized every well-formed muscle.
Now, if his face matched his form...
She shook herself. What was she thinking? She hadn’t felt anything for any man in a long time. Not since...
Finally, he turned, the candle and firelight for the first time revealing his face.
She gasped. Had she seen a ghost through the gazebo’s back door? “Richard?”
Puzzlement spread over those chiseled features she now saw only in her memories. “How do you know my name?”
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