Author: TBR Book Blog

Instead of doing the soul searching she desires, Emma finds her mind immersed in another woman’s life…during another era. The haunting images of the world of Elizabeth, a young woman who lived in that same estate during the Civil War, and her unwanted fascination with the estate’s caretaker, a brilliant yet reclusive artist, Caleb Anderson, consume Emma.

Each time she is transported into the past, Emma becomes more confused as to why she keeps returning to Elizabeth’s life. She finds an unexpected confidant in Caleb, and for reasons she doesn’t understand, he’s hellbent on helping her navigate of the implausible.

With her life hovering between a past she doesn’t understand and an uncertain future, Emma soon realizes the only way forward is to embrace the impossible.

 

One

“If you were fortunate, you might meet a few important people who were right for you at that moment. Not because the timing was perfect or the other person was perfect, but because together everything made sense. While it may or may not last forever, the ephemeral nature of life just made it imperative that you cherish every second you had with that person.”

 

Two

My heart danced inside of my ribcage. I couldn’t recall the last time I felt so free and so damn alive. Every one of my senses was heightened. The sun bathed the area in a golden light. The air was fresh and full of life and warmth. Standing below the wavering trees, the heat of the sidewalk radiating through the thin soles of my boots, I felt the new beginning I’d been searching for since Andrew had died. “

 

Are you going to paint me? Like this?” I scooped up one of the pink flowers on the ground and tucked it behind my ear.

 

 “Now, you look perfect,” he muttered. 

Everything around me blurred, taking on a slightly muddled quality, yet not fading entirely. On the periphery of my consciousness, I knew I wasn’t quite in my world or Elizabeth’s, but that awareness wasn’t enough to pull me out of the moment.

 

Three

The sounds of tree frogs and chirping crickets mixed with the masculine laughter trickling from the windows lining the parlor. A warm, almost dream-like breeze swayed the limbs of the magnolia trees overhead, rustling their thick, waxen leaves and

filling the air with a sweet, lemony scent. 

 

When I angled my head to look at Henry, he was peering up at the sky. His forgotten cigar rested on a patch of dirt next to the blanket. A trail of smoke curled upward, twirling above us, then evaporated into the darkness. The soft, rosy glow of the moonlit night highlighted the sharp angles of Henry’s handsome face. I adored everything about this man, from his thick dark hair to the proud jut of his chin and jaw. Most of all, I loved how he always indulged me even when I was doing ridiculous things. After a while, he turned his face toward mine. His golden eyes were so achingly familiar, they jolted my heart. There was something possessive and raw in his countenance as he lay there looking at me.