Marianne Whitcomb is happily married to a doctor. She has two sons. The traumas of her past travels through time are mostly behind her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But then, she makes eye contact with a stranger in the grocery store and he quickly looks away. Where does she know him from? Does she know him? Is it from this time, or another?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The mystery man slips from her mind when she is contacted by Kellie, the biological sister of the other Marianne\u2013the one with almost-identical DNA who now lives several thousand years in the future. Kellie needs a kidney. Marianne remembers her own sister Kellie and finds herself so desperate to have her back that she\u2019ll even take a replica.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And in another millennia, the last dying remnants of the Winauwan empire are planning a stroke that will wipe out not just Edward and Marianne, but all of civilization. They intend to rise from the ashes and the blood and rule. Only one young mother stands in their way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This is the 3rd book in the series and it\u2019s now available now for Kindle<\/a> and paperback<\/a>!<\/p>\n\n\n\n Book 3 in the TimeKeeperS series!!<\/p>\n\n\n\n Book 1: TimeKeeperS, Book 2: TimeKeeperS \u2013 Rectification, Book 3: TimeKeeperS \u2013 Restoration<\/p>\n\n\n\n …<\/p>\n\n\n\n Sample reading<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Marianne fed a twenty-dollar bill into the register and then waited for her change. She smiled to herself, thinking the machine was probably confused about being fed actual cash.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As she waited, she looked up, absently scanning the people around her. It was a habit long-engrained in her from her work as an investigator\u2014and from even before that, in her \u201cother life\u201d\u2014and rarely brought any results. Oh, she usually spotted friends quicker than they spotted her, but other than that one time a couple years before when she had spotted her client\u2019s wayward husband picking up a pizza, her scans were benign.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This day, though, she caught a man\u2019s eyes at\u2014she believed\u2014the exact moment he had spotted her. She didn\u2019t recognize him at first, but the way he furtively looked away got her attention. It wasn\u2019t just the look of a married man who has been caught ogling a woman. Marianne was no longer an ing\u00e9nue, and her body showed the effects of two children, but she was still thought attractive\u2014especially by men of that age. Men in their fifties or sixties who told themselves they passed for forty-five or thought a woman in her late thirties would be attracted to a man of their \u2026 experience? Maturity?<\/p>\n\n\n\n This man, though, upon seeing Marianne had quickly looked away, and his skin tone had changed, growing darker. As Marianne took her change without even looking at the register, she cast another glance at the man. Mid-sixties, she guessed, with a fringe of dark hair and a few long strands combed over a suntanned pate. A little overweight but not obese. He was wearing casual clothes and his tan covered his arms but there was a hint of a white line right below his shirt\u2014which was just a simple T advertising a local body shop. She told herself immediately that he did not work at the body shop but probably did work outside. Gardner? No, his head would have been either covered with skin cancer or he would be wearing a cap. They made the highway crew wear long-sleeve shirts anymore, so not that job. Maybe, she reasoned, he worked inside but spent his off hours on the golf course. She thought that a more reasonable explanation than boating or fishing, for those guys tended to burn, not tan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She casually walked out of the store, noticing from the corner of her eye that he made sure not to look directly at her. It was then she realized there was a heavy reflection in one of the windows to the left of the door and he was looking at her that way. When he realized she had noticed him, he quickly turned away. As she watched him walk, she noticed he never moved his left arm, as if it were just limp. She didn\u2019t want to stare too hard, though, so it could have just been a false impression.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHe\u2019s someone who knows a little something about stealth,\u201d Marianne commented to herself lowly. Ex-military? she wondered. A spy? If so, she thought it had been a long time for him as a pro wouldn\u2019t have been spotted at all with that reflection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The next question in her mind was to wonder if he were always furtive and just the act of making eye contact with anyone had spooked him, or had he been spooked by Marianne? If so, why? A past case? Marianne had a good memory for faces\u2014and usually names\u2014and the man didn\u2019t mean anything to her right away. As she got in her car, she watched him through the mirror and saw him go out to a plain, blue car, probably ten years old, and drive away. She thought about following him, but knew she had no good reason to. She also knew that one of the hardest things for most people to disguise was their walk and she was certain she had never seen this man\u2019s walk before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So what had spooked him? She knew that the simplest explanation was that, for just a split second, she had reminded him of someone else. Marianne was of average height and build for her age, and while she wore her hair longer than most women of her years, she had been mistaken for other people before. It was part of why she had been such a good investigator: she almost never stood out from the crowd. Knowing that was the most likely explanation didn\u2019t stop her from thinking, though, because the second-most-likely scenario was that she had crossed his path at some point in the past as an investigator. Perhaps he had been one of the clandestine lovers of someone Marianne had been investigating for a divorce case. Maybe he had been on the periphery of a bank investigation and never caught, but should have been.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Something, after all, had spooked him, for it occurred to Marianne as she drove away that his walk had been too casual, the walk of someone who doesn\u2019t want to look nervous while also checking their surroundings with a keen eye. Yet, she didn\u2019t recognize that walk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She puzzled about the matter all the way home, then got out of the car anxious to see her husband and children. She would have been happy to see them, anyway, but she knew herself and her propensity to dwell on minutia. It was what made her a good investigator, but it was also something of a curse at times. Thus she was hoping that a romp in the yard with the kids would take her mind off of what was probably just an odd moment. Even if the man recognized Marianne from something in the past, it would probably never come up again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She was momentarily chagrined, then, to find the house empty. She was just about to grumble when she saw the note on the counter. It was from her husband and said the family was at the neighborhood park. Marianne had intended to start supper as soon as she got home, but decided she would rather go be with her family. Not just because it would be fun, but because it would be distracting (she hoped).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Putting the recently-purchased cheese and sour cream in the fridge, she locked the door and set off down the street.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The park was just a couple blocks away and she quickly found her family there. Her two boys waved but took little more notice than that for they were quite busy on the jungle gym, fighting bad guys or slaying dragons or whatever it was they were doing. Her husband, Caleb, gladly came over and gave her a hug and a kiss. \u201cHope you didn\u2019t mind,\u201d he said as they held hands. \u201cI just didn\u2019t want to be cooped up in the backyard.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t mind at all. You realize this means I\u2019m probably not going to fix enchiladas for supper so, if you want some, we\u2019re going to have to go eat at Jose\u2019s,\u201d she replied, quickly adding, \u201cHint, hint.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSounds good to me,\u201d he told her. As they sat down on a nearby bench, Caleb told her, \u201cI had the weirdest dream last night.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou?\u201d she laughed, elbowing him in the ribs. \u201cYou never have a dream!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\u2019s part of what makes it so weird. The thing is, I usually just don\u2019t remember dreams. I wake up knowing I just had one, but two seconds after waking I couldn\u2019t tell you what it was about. Anyway, I remember this one\u2014or part of it. I just remember that I was at the hospital and I was walking past the lobby and glanced in at the waiting patients\u2014always curious if any of them are mine, you know? Anyway, out of the corner of my eye I see this \u2026 shadow. Like someone peeking at me from around a corner, but I looked and couldn\u2019t see anyone. Just the normal hospital people, anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt kept happening, though. I\u2019m sure I woke up more than once and then I\u2019d go back to sleep and it would happen again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDid you ever see who it was?\u201d Before he could answer, she posited, \u201cMaybe Batman? Sounds like something he\u2019d do.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Caleb smiled in response, then said, \u201cI don\u2019t think so. Right before I woke up this morning, I finally got a glimpse of the person. And here\u2019s the really weird part\u2014well, all of it\u2019s weird. Anyway, it wasn\u2019t like he was stalking me or anything. When I finally saw him, it was like we had just been going down opposite hallways but would never cross open spaces at the right time. But then we did, and I got a good look at him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnyone you know?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He shook his head as he said, \u201cI don\u2019t think so. I mean, he wasn\u2019t real distinctive. I mean that in two ways. It was a dream, and even when I do dream I rarely see things clearly. It\u2019s like everything\u2019s out of focus. But also, he wasn\u2019t a distinctive person. Just an average-looking person.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOkay, now you\u2019re in my wheelhouse,\u201d she laughed. Pretending to hold a notebook and pencil, she queried, \u201cHow tall was he? What color hair? Did he walk with a limp?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Caleb laughed along with her, but then actually searched his memory and said, \u201cHe didn\u2019t have hair, I remember that. I mean, he had some along the sides but he was balding. Average build, maybe a little on the heavy side. I think he was older than us. Probably late fifties, maybe early sixties. Dark complex\u2014no, I remember thinking he was just tan, like someone out in the sun a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cUm,\u201d she asked, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice, \u201cHow do you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s weird that I would notice this, especially in a dream, but I remember seeing that he had a farmer\u2019s tan. He was wearing short sleeves, but there was a white band on his upper arm like he\u2019d been outside a lot but usually wore his sleeves just a little\u2014Honey, are you all right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She shook her head as if she\u2019d just come up out of water and said, \u201cWhat? Yeah. Just fine. This is \u2026 this is really strange.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat?\u201d he asked, knowing her well enough to know that she meant more than just the fact that he had actually remembered a dream.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI think I saw that guy today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat guy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe guy from your dream.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh, come on,\u201d he retorted with a laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo, I mean it,\u201d she said, then described the encounter at the grocery store.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Caleb finally told her, \u201cSure, they sound similar, but we both described a man that could be a quarter of the men in this town. Neither one of us got a good look at any distinguishing features, no tattoos or anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI know,\u201d Marianne said with a nod. She watched their boys play for a bit, then said, \u201cSomething about that encounter\u2014and it wasn\u2019t even really an encounter, just a glance. Something about it is just sticking in my mind. More than it should by any logical reasoning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Caleb put his arm around his wife\u2019s shoulder and said, \u201cHe probably did know you from a case. You\u2019re probably right that he was on the periphery in some way and he\u2019s lived in fear ever since of being roped in. And I know your mind, Honey: you don\u2019t remember him now but sometime tonight, you\u2019re probably going to wake up and remember that you did see him in relation to some client you worked for ten years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYeah, I know,\u201d she agreed with a shrug.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019re leaving out another possibility.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He smiled as he squeezed slightly with the arm that was around her, \u201cYou always talk like you\u2019re this Plain Jane, but I happen to still be convinced that you\u2019re the prettiest woman in town. It\u2019s very possible you just happened to look up and catch a married man who thought he\u2019d been caught admiring your legs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI doubt that,\u201d she replied with a shrug, though she took his hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Caleb decided not to press the point, partly from exasperation at having pressed it so many times before. He truly did think his wife was beautiful, and thought she was more beautiful after almost ten years of marriage than she had been when he first met her. For some reason, though, she had always been convinced that she was no better than average and could blend into anonymity at any time. It frustrated him so that he sometimes had to remind himself not to speak harshly to her about it. He was a doctor, and though he had never studied psychology, he was convinced there was an underlying cause that he had never been able to diagnose. Something from her childhood, perhaps, but something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As he sat there looking at her profile as she watched their boys, he was reminded all over again just how pretty he found her to be. The long hair, the smile some might have said was a little wide but he had never thought so, the green eyes. And her figure \u2026 he smiled to himself because if he started thinking too much about her figure he was going to have to figure out some way to keep the boys occupied while he swept her off to the bedroom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNow what are you smiling about?\u201d she asked suspiciously, though with a twinkle in her eye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Trying to be as innocent as he could, he shrugged and replied, \u201cOh, just looking at you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI guess that\u2019s better than having you look at me and laugh,\u201d she commented sardonically, though the twinkle was still there.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Marianne Whitcomb is happily married to a doctor. She has two sons. The traumas of her past travels through time are mostly behind her. But then, she makes eye contact with a stranger in the grocery store and he quickly looks away. Where does she know him from? Does she know him? Is it from … <\/p>\n