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Beyond the Fall by Diane Scott Lewis

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  • Tamara Ledbetter, dumped by her arrogant husband, travels to Cornwall, England, to research her ancestors. A trip first planned with her soon-to-be ex. While in a neglected cemetery, she scrapes two fallen headstones together to read what's beneath, faints, and awakes in 1789. Certain she's caught in a reenactment, she fast discovers she's in the year of the French Revolution, grain riots in England, miners out of work, and she's mistrusted by the young farmer, Colum Polwhele, who's come to her aid.

    Can a sassy San Francisco gal survive in this primitive time where women have few rights? Could she fall for Colum, a man active in underhanded dealings that involve stolen grain, or will she struggle to return to her own time before danger stalks them both?

    Rating: Spicy
    Page Count: 358
    Word Count: 89314
    978-1-5092-2290-2 Paperback
    978-1-5092-2291-9 Digital

    Excerpt

    Tamara knuckled her chest to slow her breathing. Transported to another century wasn't possible. “I might have fallen down the rabbit hole.”

    “You injured yourself in a hole?” Colum shook his head slowly. “Where are you really from? You do speak an’ behave oddly. Lew thinks you’re a spy; an’ now I’m wonderin’ if you work for Mr. Arthur.” He scrutinized her closely.

    “A spy?” She moaned at another layer of insanity. A thief, a spy, and what had Arthur called her, a Bedlamite? “A spy for what? I thought our countries were close allies?”

    But not in the past! She almost tripped off the step.

    “If you were a spy, you’d already know what for. But spies be good at pretendin’.” His eyes sparked, he leaned nearer. “Or lyin’ if it be needed.”

    He didn’t trust her—and she couldn’t blame him.

    She thrust a hand against the cold stone of the building to steady herself. Her thoughts cut through her brain in several directions. “I’m not lying, nor am I a spy. And I certainly wouldn’t lift a finger for Arthur Trembeth.”

    “So you say. But ’tis a strange thing you’ve suddenly come here an’ are a Trembeth. You’re the boldest woman I’ve ever met.” He bent lower, his expression now fighting against concern. “You’ve turned pale as milk. Be it illness or a trick, Mistress?”

    “I’m about to have a massive hissy-fit, if that counts.” She spewed out the words and tightened her core muscles to keep from doing just that. She stared up at his handsome face.

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Beyond the Fall

Beyond the Fall

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