Wednesday, June 29, 2011

An Era Apart

Hey there,

My road to publication has come to an end. An Era Apart is set to release July 4 and I can't wait. Writing is easy. Editing is a damn tough job but I had my editor with me, helping me, advising me, guiding me, mentoring me, even when I was being slightly difficult (but only slightly :-)).

I hope you'll enjoy An Era Apart. Working out the plot was a real challenge and I am very fond of my characters. So, Tracy Richardson and Garrett Burnes are now waiting for you and here is how they met.

“There you are. It is about time.”
Tracy stifled a scream. Turning around so quickly she almost fell, she located the source of the voice: a tall, elegant man, standing at the foot of the stairs, watching her. Heart pounding, she couldn't move. Who was he? How did he get here? What did he want with her?
“Are you planning on standing there all day?” he said with a hint of impatience.
Although he looked cold and unfriendly, she didn’t feel threatened. What she felt was something very different and very inappropriate. Now wasn’t a good time to blush but, looking at his strong face and lean body, sudden intimate images swirled in her mind, swirled and danced as if alive. Naked images so vivid she felt desire licking her. Such an unpredictable reaction to a total stranger, she didn’t know what to make of it.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Garrett Burnes,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I take it you have heard of me.”
“When… how did you get in?”
A light smirk on his full lips, he pointed to the top of the stairs. “Time is of the essence, Miss Richardson, and I do not have any to spare for stupid questions. We already ought to be on our way.”
Who did he think he was to call her stupid? “Let me tell you something, Mister Burnes: I’m not going anywhere with you, no matter what you-”
“William informed me you were a stubborn child,” he interrupted, “I believed he was exaggerating but I dare say it is a reputation well deserved.”
“My father would never…” she choked on the words, seeing red, “Never say such a thing!”
“Therefore, you shall come with me!”
That was an interesting turn of events, cooling her down. She studied him, at last taking his looks in. Under a topcoat, he was wearing a three-piece suit: a black sack coat with matching trousers and a white vest, fastened high on the chest, under a dotted necktie. Had this man been walking around with a top hat and a cane, Tracy would have thought him straight out of the nineteenth century. His outfit was eccentric, old-fashioned, yet he appeared young and dashing. She eyed him from head to toe.
“You haven’t been to Barneys recently, have you?” she said with a hint of mockery.
He shot her a blank look.
“I’m only saying this because you…” Smiling, she gestured with her hand, “Well, you know what I mean. That suit is a killer!”
“Good God! Am I to presume you have no knowledge of your situation? Do you not know where you are?”
“In my basement.” She stated the obvious, starting to wonder if his good looks matched a feeble mind.
He shook his head. “William hasn’t told you, has he?”
“Told me what?”
“Have you really come through this machinery without any knowledge of your destination?” He took a step toward her.
“Sure, but it isn’t working, and I don’t know why.”
“It is working perfectly.”
The guy must be on the edge of insanity: charming and interesting, but whacko. He was watching her, and she could see a new glint in his eyes. What was it? Maybe something akin to respect? Admiration?
“You are in San Francisco-”
Tracy wasn’t sure how the crazy man had entered her father’s lab, and she figured she’d better be a little more cautious.
“Jeez, what a surprise!” Could she use anything on the desk as a weapon?
“In 1899.” He finished the statement with dark eyes glued to her face.

And to you all, happy Independence Day!

Chris Lange

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