BLURB:

More than hearts can be broken when you fall through time.

Corinne McGowan survives a plane crash only to fall down a hole in time. In 1868 Cornwall, she faces the ultimate decision: Let the man she loves die, or save him and change history forever.

EXCERPT:

With one more backward look at the plane, Corinne stepped out of the sun and shivered. Late April in Britain meant cooler temperatures than in Virginia, but she’d thought of that and worn a sweater. Still, the air was much chillier under the trees than she’d expected. Maybe the adrenaline surging through her veins had finally worn off, allowing shock to set in. She’d better get her business done and go back to the crash site. Her head had begun to feel wonky too. Must’ve hit it harder than she’d thought. Her ears rang with a peculiar sound. Like the tinkling of crushed glass, but sharper, less pleasant. Not pleasant at all, really.

And a little more for good measure…

Walking farther into the woods, she searched for a bush of some sort to shield her from any lurking eyes, although none of her party had seemed to be heading her way. Regardless, she didn’t want to risk an audience when taking a pee.

Finally spying a larger-than-usual tree trunk, she stepped behind it and, with a quick glance around, hiked up her skirt. Relief washed through her and she sagged against the tree. She wanted nothing so much now than to head back to Mrs. Dewey’s Guest House, have a cup of tea and pile up in the bed. A sedate evening of eating take-out fish and chips and watching hilarious British sit-coms on the little television perched on the bureau in her room sounded like the pinnacle of a very trying day. Tomorrow she would sally forth to her appointment at Meadowbank Hall, the main reason for her trip to Cornwall.

At last finished, she dropped her skirts and backed away from the tree. The crushed glass sound intensified. Was it coming from somewhere outside her head? What on earth would make such a sound? Turning in a circle, she peered into the dim forest and spotted something in the distance. She took a step forward, and the volume increased. Sticking her fingers in her ears did no good. The dreadful noise seemed to come from both inside and outside her head. Hands over her ears to dull the sensation a little, she staggered toward the grayish object.

The clinking got louder as she approached the… Was it a well? Made of ragged, crumbling black and gray stones, it looked like…

Corinne stopped dead in her tracks. Crap. It looked like the well from that horrible movie The Ring. She’d watched it alone one Halloween and had to sleep with the lights on for two weeks. No way was she going closer to that thing. She turned around, walking resolutely away.

What if that girl was creeping up behind her now?