I have always loved Time Travel Stories. Not necessarily romance, but also those that are just plain fun or even Sci-Fi or historical. I guess the reason is that I have always loved history, even as a kid, and the idea of slipping into another time seemed intriguing, if only to have a peek at the past before returning to my own time with all it's luxuries.
As I grew up, I became a historian. I possess a bachelor's degree in history and also a bachelor's degree in Humanistic Studies with an emphasis in Ancient and Medieval Research. So,it seemed only natural that I would one one day write a time travel story, mixing romance and history together. Strangely, I have four full length romance novels out, three of them historical romance and one of them a contemporary, and out of the four, my best selling novel is the time travel romance. So, here is an excerpt from my time travel romance, Some Enchanted Waltz by Lily Silver, copyright 2012:
A little background for you: Tara is a graduate student writing her master thesis on an obscure rebellion in Irish history, one that failed. She is sent back in time to that very period, and awakens after the powerful electrical jolt that sent her there unable to reconcile her surroundings with her very damaged memory. She's scared, but trying to cope, as any of us would be. She wakes up lost and alone in a quaint castle in strange country (she's a Wisconsin girl!) unaware that it is not only a foreign country but another time period, and tries not to panic. It gets worse as she finds she has no I.D. and no money, and no idea of who to call after this weird, cosmic hangover! She thinks she is in a posh hotel and might be kicked out soon as she has no money to pay the bill.
Some Enchanted Waltz by Lily Silver, copyright 2012,
Chapter Five
Tara looked about the strange room with awe.
It was like a set from a Jane
Austen Movie.
The walls were oak paneling, the
kind you’d see in an old English manor house.
Tapestries hung on the wall, and not
the cheap catalogue copies you could get for under a hundred bucks. The ones
before her had a rich heaviness that bespoke the dust and the weight of several
centuries. She admired the scene depicting a rich medieval landscape. A couple
sat on a blanket in a forest enjoying a romantic lunch. The woman had long
waves of blonde hair trailing over her shoulders and faded pale silvery eyes Tara
guessed were once blue. The woman’s expression was wistful as she gazed at her
companion, a young man dressed in the rich attire of a thirteenth century noble.
A distant castle could be seen in an opening in the trees beyond them and a
unicorn was nestled in the brush in the foreground.
As she studied the tapestry, Tara
was enveloped in an oasis of much needed calm.
She’d awakened into a void. She
couldn’t remember anything about her life. She didn’t know where she lived, or
with whom. She did not live here, that much she did know for certain. She tried
all morning to think of someone she could call to come and take her home. Nothing
came. No names, no faces.
Calling
someone. Now, there was a good reason to crumble into hysterics!
She could not think of anyone to
contact, no family, lover or friends.
Tara rose from the bed with difficulty.
Her body was stiff, sore.
Had she been in an car accident? She tried not to
trip over the overlong white cotton gown as she shambled across the room like a
zombie to the antique wardrobe. She opened the door and then the drawer inside
it. Her cell phone was there along with
her car keys and her iPod. A green hair
bungee with Celtic designs lay nestled beside the items.
No
wallet. Ah, but that would make things too simple, wouldn’t it?
No wallet meant no driver’s
license, no clue as to her home address. No credit cards and no money. Her khaki cargo pants and lace
camisole top were folded neatly in the drawer, having been washed by the staff
of this odd hotel.
Given her weakness and confusion,
Tara had to have been here for a few days instead of hours. Her iPod still worked, for all the good that did.
She could listen to Meatloaf, Madonna and Motley Crue while trying to find her
way home. If her phone worked, she’d have GPS capabilities so she could figure
out where she was, and at the very least she could send a text message.
And
who would she send it to? Would she recognize the names listed in her
contact list? That was the scary part. Tara was lost,
like in one of those stupid reality TV shows where the contestants got dropped
off in a strange land and had to find their way back home first to win a
million bucks. Unlike the people on the show, she was stranded, with no
instructions, contacts, money and no freaking idea of who to call to pick her
up and take her to the airport. At least on the reality shows they were given
detailed instructions.
She searched the drawers of the
ornate desk. There was no phone in her room and no phone book. None of the
hotel literature one would expect to find in a place like this. She couldn’t
even call a taxi. Even if she had a phone her speech was too garbled to be
understood. The hotel maid didn’t understand her so she wouldn’t get far trying
to call anyone.
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| Image credit: yoshiyayo / 123RF Stock Photo |
Texting! Now that was a different matter. Or Email. Yes, that would work, if she could get to a computer. Tara wiggled the tips of her fingers, peeping out from the heavy linen bandages swaddled over her hands. Her fingers were still pretty numb and stiff, but she could probably pull off the hunt and peck method. They had to at least have a computer in the lobby. All hotels had them in lobbies now.
The Eagles song echoed in her mind,
the one about the creepy hotel you could never leave.
This wasn’t Hotel California, but Hotel Ireland. She learned that when she tried
to question the maid who delivered her breakfast tray. She could only manage
the word ‘where’ amid her garbled speech. The maid informed her she was a guest
at Glengarra Castle overlooking the Bay of Bantry in County Cork, Ireland. At
least they spoke English here--sort of. It was hard to understand Maggie’s
accent and her queer way of phrasing things.
Terror didn’t begin to explain the
gnawing in her gut as her eyes darted about the stately room filled with
antique furnishings. Geez, there wasn’t even a freaking television. Usually they
were hidden in the wardrobe closet in the fancier hotels. Her wardrobe closet
was empty save her few belongings.
Fear was making her queasy. Tara
didn’t want to vomit again, because she’d have to use that quaint porcelain pot
under the bed to throw up in because no one seemed to understand her request to
be taken to the restroom. There wasn’t a bathroom attached to her room, which,
while odd was logical in an ancient building such as this. The hotel owners
wouldn’t want to risk losing their Historic Registry standing by knocking down
walls and drilling holes through stone floors to install modern plumbing in
every guest room. Still, a phone would be nice so she could ring room service.
Definitely not a five star
experience here, despite the rich furnishings.
As Tara sat clutching the covers
and worrying about the hotel concierge demanding payment for this lavish Irish
holiday, there was a sharp rat-a-tat-tat at the door.
Oh,
God, here it comes, she though, steeling herself for the confrontation.
Excerpt from Some Enchanted Waltz, A Time Travel Romance, by Lily Silver, copyright 2012.
If you would like find out what happens to Tara, and who comes through that door, you can purchase a digital copy of Some Enchanted Waltz through the following ebook outlets.
iTunes
Kobo
Amazon.com
Barnes and Noble Nook
Smashwords.com
Excerpt from Some Enchanted Waltz, A Time Travel Romance, by Lily Silver, copyright 2012.
If you would like find out what happens to Tara, and who comes through that door, you can purchase a digital copy of Some Enchanted Waltz through the following ebook outlets.
iTunes
Kobo
Amazon.com
Barnes and Noble Nook
Smashwords.com
