Title: Mirrored Time
Author: J.D. Faulkner
Series: A Time Archivist Novel (Book 1)
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: May 7 2014
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
First it was water.
Then blood.
And finally smoke.
Gwen Conway never knew there were so many ways to die. Honestly, it was something she would have been happy not knowing.
Maybe, they really are just dreams. Nightmares. But they won't stop. And dreaming of her death is getting old. Then there's the sleepwalking. She'd like to pass on that too.
Gwen's pretty sure the dreams have something to do with her new job. Which of course, is definitely not just a 'job.'
Don't get her wrong, working for the Archiver of the Time Streams has its perks. Having the power to travel to any past or future time is fantastic. Plus, there's Rafe, the ex-gladiator from the future. She'd like to keep him around too. Not that she would tell him that. It'd go straight to his head.
But she's less than pleased to find herself in the middle of a time travelers' war. Especially against a crazed half-god who has the power to obliterate the existence of any time or place. And the Guardians, her so called allies? All the help they offer are strict rules and smug superiority. Plus, they seem convinced she's already lost, that she's already died.
Gwen is starting to wonder whether she should have read her employment contract more carefully.
Borrowing themes from Greek and Roman legends such as Pandora and the war between the Titans and Olympians, lovers of mythology and fantasy alike will enjoy this mind-bending romp through different times and universes. Well-grounded in the world of today, this urban fantasy stands out from the pack with its complex theories on time travel and unique brand of quirky humor.
Then blood.
And finally smoke.
Gwen Conway never knew there were so many ways to die. Honestly, it was something she would have been happy not knowing.
Maybe, they really are just dreams. Nightmares. But they won't stop. And dreaming of her death is getting old. Then there's the sleepwalking. She'd like to pass on that too.
Gwen's pretty sure the dreams have something to do with her new job. Which of course, is definitely not just a 'job.'
Don't get her wrong, working for the Archiver of the Time Streams has its perks. Having the power to travel to any past or future time is fantastic. Plus, there's Rafe, the ex-gladiator from the future. She'd like to keep him around too. Not that she would tell him that. It'd go straight to his head.
But she's less than pleased to find herself in the middle of a time travelers' war. Especially against a crazed half-god who has the power to obliterate the existence of any time or place. And the Guardians, her so called allies? All the help they offer are strict rules and smug superiority. Plus, they seem convinced she's already lost, that she's already died.
Gwen is starting to wonder whether she should have read her employment contract more carefully.
Borrowing themes from Greek and Roman legends such as Pandora and the war between the Titans and Olympians, lovers of mythology and fantasy alike will enjoy this mind-bending romp through different times and universes. Well-grounded in the world of today, this urban fantasy stands out from the pack with its complex theories on time travel and unique brand of quirky humor.
Book Links
Author Information
J.D. Faulkner lives
in Seattle, Washington. She spends her time reading anything she can get her
hands on; studying Greek and Roman mythology; and avoiding the rain whenever
she can. MIRRORED TIME is her first novel and book one of the Time Archivist
Novels. Currently, she is working on the
second book of the series, FRACTURED TIME.
Author Links
Excerpt
THE CRACKED FLUORESCENT PANEL on the
ceiling buzzed, flickering to darkness for a brief second before flaring back
to life with a loud crack. Standing outside the dingy office, a newspaper
advertisement clutched in her hand, Gwen Conway wondered what she was doing.
Here she was, answering some vague classified with the desperate hope it would
lead to a job. A glorified secretarial
job. I wonder if I’ll get to fetch coffee too. Oh lucky day.
The hallway itself did little to settle her nerves. The
stained linoleum flooring and the bad lighting brought to mind too many horror
movies to count. Standing there was creepy enough. Working there? Imagine how charming it would be at night.
She read the lettering on the glass-paned door. Alistair Fletcher, Legal Files Specialist and … something. The rest
was too faded to make out. Although curious about the full title, she was
content with the use of the word ‘legal.’ Not her dream job by any stretch of
the imagination, but it was good enough.
Running a hand over her chestnut hair, she hoped it wasn’t a
frizzy mess from the rain. It was hard to act the functioning adult when her
hair was snarled as if she’d been dragged backwards through a hedge. With a
sigh, she practiced a smile. No one was going to hire her if she walked around
like a kid who dropped her ice cream cone. Great,
now I’m depressed and craving ice cream.
She knocked. Here we
go.
The office was bigger than it looked from the outside; and
after the dingy light of the hallway, it was brighter too. Her attention was
focused on the solitary figure standing in front of a large desk. At her
approach, the man offered his hand for her to shake.
“Miss Conway, I presume?” His voice carried a distant hint
of rolling green hills and waves on a rocky shore.
Alistair Fletcher wasn’t what she imagined at all. She was
expecting an academic eccentric: a smart, but odd man; thinning white hair,
stooped shoulders, and owlish eyes hidden behind thick-framed glasses—a
grandfatherly type. Who else would be banished to this forgotten basement
corridor?
Instead, Mr. Fletcher was tall, and, while somewhere on the
far side of middle age, he hadn’t let himself diminish with time. His thick,
silver hair was combed back from a high forehead, and his jaw was covered with
a neat beard. She didn’t realize she was staring until his eyebrow arched over
his steel gray eye.
“That’s me.” Gwen blushed. “Mr. Fletcher?” Her voice
cracked, disbelief coloring her words. She was expecting a little old man. Not
someone who was … kind of attractive.
Her cheeks burned hotter.
“Yes.” The one word contained the hint of a smile. “I hope
you didn’t have any trouble finding the office?”
“Not at all.” Her gaze bounced around the room trying to
find a safe place to land. Biting her lip, in a gesture carried over from
childhood, she dragged her gaze back to the man’s face. Gwen wanted to blame
her nerves on the rudeness of the courthouse secretary. As Gwen had asked for
directions, the woman’s daggered fingernails tapped out an irritated beat. She
had made Gwen feel as welcome as a cockroach in a five-star hotel. “The
secretary upstairs, um, told me where to go. I didn’t know we were supposed to
use the back entrance to the courthouse. After that, an elevator ride and a
couple flights of stairs, nothing too difficult.” She tried not to wince. You’re blathering, Conway. He knows you can
go down stairs. How impressive.
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