Please welcome Barbara Bretton as she
brings with her today her Crosse Harbor Trilogy
Giveaway to a lucky commenter
SOMEWHERE IN TIME -Digital format.
Crosse
Harbor Time Travel Trilogy
Book One
Barbara
Bretton
Genre: Time
Travel/Romance
Publisher: Free
Spirit Press
ISBN: 9781301712953
ASIN: B008ELA6VK
Page count:
300-320
Word count:
Approx. 80,000
Book
Trailer: http://youtu.be/tI8lHp9aSD4
Book
Description:
Historian
Emilie Crosse dreamed of a love that would last forever
Who knew
she'd have to sail across two centuries to find it?
When her
ex-husband Zane Grey Rutledge showed up at her door with a Revolutionary War
uniform that was part of his grandmother's estate, neither one suspected that
their lives were about to change in ways they couldn't possibly imagine.
Swept back
in time to 1776 where a nation is struggling to be born, Emilie finds herself
torn between two men: Zane, her ex who still holds the key to her heart, and
Andrew McVie, the Patriot hero of her long-ago dreams . . . .
Reviewers
Choice Award - Best Historical Time Travel
--Romantic
Times
Tomorrow and
Always
Crosse
Harbor Time Travel Trilogy
Book Two
Barbara
Bretton
Genre: Time
Travel/Romance
Publisher:
Free Spirit Press
ISBN:
9781301018895
ASIN: B008ELGJ0M
Page count:
300-320
Word count:
Approx. 80,000
Book
Description:
Timeless
Lovers . . .
Different
Worlds
Shannon
Whitney didn't believe she had a future until Andrew McVie crash-lands his
time-traveling hot-air balloon in her backyard one summer afternoon and changes
her life forever.
He is a
Revolutionary War patriot
She is an
independent modern woman
Their paths
should never have crossed but apparently fate has other plans.
Destiny’s Child
Crosse Harbor
Time Travel Trilogy
Book Three
Barbara
Bretton
Genre: Time
Travel/Romance
Publisher:
Free Spirit Press
ISBN:
9781301054299
ASIN: B008ELGLGY
Page count:
300-320
Word count:
Approx. 80,000
Book
Description:
It's not
every day a woman goes traveling through time
Dakota Wylie
is a wisecracking, unemployed, overweight psychic librarian from Princeton
Patrick
Devane is an angry, hard-headed spy with a six-year-old daughter who hears
voices
The only
thing they have in common is New Jersey
But when Dakota
leaps from the basket of a hot air balloon to help his crying child, little
does she know that she's leaping into history . . . and love.
______________________
Praise for
the Crosse Harbor Time Travel Trilogy
"SOMEWHERE
IN TIME sweeps readers away into a marvelous world where love is timeless and
dreams come true. Combine this ingenious plot . . . with humor and sensuality
and you have a great read." –Romantic Times
SOMEWHERE IN
TIME – Reviewers Choice Winner – Best Historical Time Travel
TOMORROW
& ALWAYS - "Bretton is a monumental talent who targets her audience
with intelligence and inspiration." –Affaire de Coeur
"[TOMORROW
& ALWAYS] is an entertaining story." –Booklist
DESTINY'S
CHILD - "Wonderful wit, a feisty heroine, a gifted child, and great
glimpses of friends from the past combine to make magic!" – Romantic Times
Praise for
USA Today Bestselling Author Barbara Bretton
"A
monumental talent." --Affaire de Coeur
"Very
few romance writers create characters as well-developed as Bretton's. Her books
pull you in and don't let you leave until the last word is read."
--Booklist (starred review)
"One of
today's best women's fiction authors." --The Romance Reader
"Barbara
Bretton is a master at touching readers' hearts." --Romance Reviews Today
_______________________
Historian Emilie Crosse dreamed of
a love that would last forever
Who knew she'd have to sail across
two centuries to find it?
When
her ex-husband Zane Grey Rutledge showed up at her door
with a Revolutionary War uniform that was part of his grandmother's estate, neither one suspected that their
lives were about to change
in ways they couldn't possibly
imagine.
Swept
back in time to 1777 where a nation is struggling to be born, Emilie finds
herself torn between two men: Zane, her ex who still holds the key to her
heart, and Andrew McVie, the Patriot hero of her long-ago dreams . . . .
Excerpt from SOMEWHERE IN TIME
Near Philadelphia
Zane Grey Rutledge downshifted
into second as he guided the black Porsche up the curving driveway toward
Rutledge House. Gravel crunched beneath the tires, sending a fine spray across
the lacquered surface of the hood and fenders. He swore softly as a pebble
pinged against the windshield, leaving behind a spider-web crack in the glass.
A pair of moving vans were angled in the driveway near the massive front door
and he eased to a stop behind one of them and let out the clutch.
He didn't want to be there.
Rutledge House without his grandmother Sara Jane was nothing more than a
haunted collection of faded bricks and stones.
"One day it will all
matter to you," Sara Jane had said to him not long before she died.
"I have faith that you'll see there's nothing more important than
family."
But he didn't have a family.
Not anymore. With Sara Jane's death he had moved closer to the edge of the
cliff. The lone remaining Rutledge in a long and illustrious series of
Rutledges who had made their mark on a country.
Lately he'd had the feeling
that his grandmother was watching him from somewhere in the shadows, shaking
her head the way she used to when he was a boy and had been caught drinking
beer with his friends from the wrong side of town.
He leaned back in his
contoured leather seat and watched as the treasures of a lifetime were carried
from the house by a parade of moving men. Winterhalter portraits of long-dead
Rutledges, books and mementoes that catalogued a nation's history as well as a
family's.
His fingers drummed against
the steering wheel. He'd done the right thing, the only thing he could have done, given the circumstances. Rutledge
House would survive long after he was gone. Wasn't that what his grandmother
had wanted?
"Mr. Rutledge? Oh, Mr.
Rutledge, it is you. I was so afraid
I'd missed you."
He started at the sound of the
woman's voice floating through the open window of the car.
"Olivia McRae," she
said, smiling coyly as she prompted his memory. "We met last week."
He opened the car door and
unfolded himself from the sleek sports car. "I remember," he said,
shaking the woman's bird-like hand. "Eastern Pennsylvania Preservation
Society."
She dimpled and Zane was
struck by the fact that in her day Olivia McRae had probably been a looker.
"We have much to thank
you for. I must tell you we feel as if Christmas has come early this
year!"
He shot her a quizzical look.
She was thanking him? In the past few days he had come to think of her as his
own personal savior for taking Rutledge House and its contents off his hands.
"A pleasure," he
said, relying on charm to cover his surprise.
"Oh, it's a fine day for
Rutledge House," she said, her tone upbeat. "I know your dear
departed grandmother Sara Jane would heartily approve of your decision."
"Approve might be too
strong a word," he said with a wry grin. "Accept is more like
it." Bloodlines had been everything to Sara Jane Rutledge. No matter that
the venerable old house had been tumbling down around her ears, in need of more
help than even the family fortune could provide. So long as a Rutledge was in
residence, all had been right with her world.
Although she never said it in
so many words, he knew that in the end he had disappointed her. No wife, no
children, no arrow shot into the future of the Rutledge family
"Just you wait,"
Olivia McRae said, patting his arm in a decidedly maternal gesture. "Next
time you see it this wonderful old house will be on the way to regaining its
former glory."
"It's up to you now,
Olivia."
"We would welcome your
input," the older woman said. "And we would most certainly like to
have a Rutledge on the board of directors at the museum."
"Sorry," he said,
perhaps a beat too quickly. "I think a clean break is better all
around."
The woman's warm brown eyes
misted over. "How thoughtless of me! This must be dreadfully difficult,
coming so soon after the loss of your beloved grandmother."
Zane looked away. Little in life
unnerved him. Talk of his late grandmother did. "I have a flight to
catch," he said. No matter that the plane didn't take off until the next
afternoon. As far as he was concerned, emotions were more dangerous than
skydiving without a chute. "I'd better get moving."
Olivia McRae peered into the
car. "You do have the package, don't you?"
"Package?" His brows
knotted.
"Oh, Mr. Rutledge, you
can't leave without the package I set out for you." She looked at him
curiously. "The uniform."
"Damn," he muttered
under his breath. The oldest male child
in each generation is entrusted with the uniform, Sara Jane had told him on
his twelfth birthday when she handed him the carefully wrapped package. Someday you'll hand it down to your son.
He hadn't forgotten about the
uniform. He knew exactly where it was: in the attic under a thick layer of
dust, as forgotten as the past.
"You wait right
here," said Mrs. McRae, turning back toward the house. "I'll fetch it
for you."
He was tempted to get behind
the wheel of the Porsche and be halfway to Manhattan before the woman crossed
the threshold. For as long as he could remember that uniform had been at the
heart of Rutledge family lore. His grandmother and her sisters had woven
endless stories of derring-do and bravery and laid every single one of them at
the feet of some long-dead Revolutionary War relative who'd probably never done
anything more courageous than shoot himself a duck for dinner.
Moments later Olivia McRae was
back by his side.
"Here you are," she
said, pressing a large, neatly-wrapped parcel into his arms with the same
tenderness a mother would display toward her first-born. "To think you
almost left without it."
"Heavier than I
remembered," he said. "You're sure there isn't a musket in there with
the uniform?"
Mrs. McRae's lined cheeks
dimpled. "Oh, you! You always were
a tease. Why, you must have seen this uniform a million times."
"Afraid I never paid much
attention."
"That can't be
true."
"I'm not much for
antiques."
"This is more than an
antique," she said, obviously appalled. "This is a piece of American
history . . . your history." She
patted the parcel. "Open it, Mr. Rutledge. I'd love to see your face when
you –"
"I will," he said,
edging toward the Porsche, "but right now I'd better get on the
road."
"Of course," she
said, her smile fading. "I understand."
She looked at him and in her
eyes Zane saw disappointment. Why should Mrs. McRae be any different?
Disappointing people was what he did best.
He tossed the package in the
back seat and with a nod toward Olivia McRae, roared back down the drive and
away from Rutledge House.
He was almost at the Ben
Franklin Bridge when he noticed the needle on his gas gauge was hovering around
E. He whipped into the first gas station he saw and couldn't help grinning at
the crowd of attendants who swarmed the sports car.
"Fill it," he said.
"And it's okay if you want to check under the hood."
He was thinking about where
he'd stashed his passport after his weekend in London last month when out of
nowhere he heard Sara Jane's voice.
You didn't think I was going to let you get away without
a fight, did you?
He jumped, cracking his elbow
against the gear stick. Sara Jane? Ridiculous. It was probably his guilty
conscience speaking.
It's not too late, Zane. Open your eyes to what's around
you and your heart will soon follow . . .
What the hell did that mean?
It sounded like something he'd read in a fortune cookie.
He glanced toward the package
resting on the seat next to him. Experience had taught him that the best way to
handle anything from a hangover to a guilty conscience was the hair of the dog
that bit you. He might as well get it over with while he waited.
"Okay," he said out
loud, unknotting the string then folding back the brown paper. There was
nothing scary about a moth-eaten hunk of fabric, even if he was hearing voices.
He pushed aside the
buff-colored breeches and inspected the navy blue coat. Dark beige cuffs and
lapels. A line of tarnished metal buttons. The only unusual thing about the
garment was the decorative stitching inside the left cuff and under the collar.
It had to be twenty years since he'd last looked at the uniform and that had
been a cursory glance. Still, he had to admit it was weathering the years
pretty well. He looked again. He was surprised to note that the shoulders of
the jacket seemed broad enough to fit him and he was a man of above average
size. He didn't know all that much about history, but he vividly remembered
diving off the Florida coast around the wreck of the Atocha some years back and
noting the almost Lilliputian scale.
So what are you going to do, Zane, toss it in your
closet and forget it the way you forgot everything else? You owe my memory more
than that. Do the right thing this time.
Okay, now it was getting
weird. If he didn't know better, he'd swear Sara Jane was sitting in the car
with him. He wondered if he was getting high on dry-cleaning fumes or
something. He didn't have time for any of this..
Make time! Wasn't I the only one who ever made time for
you?
____________________
About the
Author:
Barbara
Bretton is the USA Today bestselling, award-winning author of more than 40
books. She currently has over ten million copies in print around the world. Her
works have been translated into twelve languages in over twenty countries.
Barbara has
been featured in articles in The New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street
Journal, Romantic Times, Cleveland Plain Dealer, Herald News, Home News,
Somerset Gazette, among others, and has been interviewed by Independent Network
News Television, appeared on the Susan Stamberg Show on NPR, and been featured
in an interview with Charles Osgood of WCBS, among others.
Her awards
include both Reviewer's Choice and Career Achievement Awards from Romantic
Times; Gold and Silver certificates from Affaire de Coeur; the RWA Region 1
Golden Leaf; and several sales awards from Bookrak. Ms. Bretton was included in
a recent edition of Contemporary Authors.
Barbara
loves to spend as much time as possible in Maine with her husband, walking the
rocky beaches and dreaming up plots for upcoming books.
FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/barbarabretton
TWITTER: www.twitter.com/barbarabretton
GOODREADS: www.goodreads.com/Barbara_Bretton
RAVELRY: www.ravelry.com/wickedsplitty
2 comments:
Barbara, thank you so much for dropping by. I'm off in a different time zone so Im a bit off on what time it really is at the moment. lol
Good luck on your tour!
I'm delighted to be here, Mila. Thanks so much for hosting my visit. I love your site!
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