With the Magic by Donna K. Weaver
When Gareth Hildebrand travels from the year 1850 to a future time, he’s not expecting to fall in love.
As the eighth Earl of Kellworth, Gareth is accustomed to getting what he wants. Then he encounters a woman he suspects is from the future--a utopian future that he feels compelled to see. He intends to get what he wants, but it will involve dealing with fae magic. And that could lead to disaster--for his heart.
Dr. Catherine Ryan is drawn to the handsome guest at Twickenham Manor, with his odd combination of childish excitement and old eyes that have seen too much pain. She loses her heart to him before she discovers the truth of when he’s from. Now she faces the biggest decision of her life!
This book made me laugh a little then cry a lot, and then left me very happy. I love it when a book can do that - keep me up reading until 2:00 in the morning, yet feel like it was totally worth it! ~Teresa
I'll be honest, fantasy and time travel are not genres I usually read. Because of this, I was a little overwhelmed at the beginning, but eventually found myself sucked into the story and had a hard time putting it down. Gareth and Catherine are so sweet together. I love their give and take with one another. They complement each other so nicely. ~Melissa
This was so exciting and lovely how it all came together. I could see just how it all played out in my mind as I read. Excitement and danger was there, love and denial also. Two hearts brought together through time only for one to think they would bring the other down. Great ending and am looking forward to the next in the series. ~Lady the Owls
Whenever Catherine had observed anomalies at Twickenham Manor, they’d always seemed to come from upstairs. Since the first time Catherine had toured the house, she’d felt a pull to seek out whatever was up those stairs. She let out a breath; she should return to the ballroom.
The Americans were passing her, and the tall woman who’d been crying said something that sent a chill down Catherine’s spine.
“I can’t bear that they’re all dead now.”
Dead? The comment brought a macabre feel to the evening, and Catherine’s curiosity-itch flared. She peered at the stairs again with narrowed eyes; she had to investigate.
But, if Aunt Nellie were to discover Catherine up there, would she be banned from coming to Twickenham again? She reminded herself that “curiosity killed the cat.” In her mind, her grandmother’s voice finished the old adage, “But satisfaction brought him back.”
Still, Catherine needed to ask herself if the risk would be worth it. These balls had become the one bright spot in her life. If she were to lose them too . . .
Then the ever-present pull gave a stronger tug, the sense that there was something else going on and she must investigate. The American woman had said “they” were dead. Catherine was a doctor. Surely she had a responsibility to investigate.
Glancing to make sure she was alone, she picked up her skirts and began the climb. Winded by the time she reached the last landing before the fourth floor, she paused to catch her breath, vowing to start exercising regularly. Catherine had been blessed with a fast metabolism, so people were forever thinking she was fitter than she was.
She climbed the last flight. The hallway was unremarkable, lined with paintings. Listening for the sounds of movement, she examined the portraits as she went down the hallway. She heard nothing, and she didn’t smell blood.
One door stood open, so she let the tug lead her inside. The long room held nothing but more paintings. How odd. There were a few chairs scattered around, but it didn’t look like it was meant to be a regular gathering place for people to sit together and talk.
Most of the pictures were busts of individuals, but in the center of the room hung a large painting of five people, three women and two men. Catherine blinked. It was the Americans, and their painted images wore the same clothing the five had on tonight. She shivered.
The young man she’d danced with hadn’t attended the Regency immersion vacation, having only arrived that day. When had someone had time to paint him? She’d also never heard that Twickenham had an artist on staff.
She studied the rest of the pictures in the room. Some were dressed in Regency clothing, but there were many others that spanned several eras. The one with the Americans was the only picture of such a large group. Whoever had arranged the paintings lacked any sense of design, leaving large sections of the walls empty.
That pull came again, as though Catherine had a string attached to her chest that drew her. This time it was to a portrait of a man placed to the right of the one with the Americans. Catherine came to stand before his painting, wondering who he was.
He appeared to be a little older than she was with a few silver strands at his temples. He also had what she’d call a regal bearing. She worked with enough surgeons and specialists who were used to being in charge, and this man had that look about him. He also wore an expression of someone with a fierce determination, the type of man people would steer clear of.
Catherine stepped closer to the painting. Behind the force of will that he projected, he had pain etched on his face. Her heart ached for him. What had happened to mark him that way?
Whenever Catherine had observed anomalies at Twickenham Manor, they’d always seemed to come from upstairs. Since the first time Catherine had toured the house, she’d felt a pull to seek out whatever was up those stairs. She let out a breath; she should return to the ballroom.
The Americans were passing her, and the tall woman who’d been crying said something that sent a chill down Catherine’s spine.
“I can’t bear that they’re all dead now.”
Dead? The comment brought a macabre feel to the evening, and Catherine’s curiosity-itch flared. She peered at the stairs again with narrowed eyes; she had to investigate.
But, if Aunt Nellie were to discover Catherine up there, would she be banned from coming to Twickenham again? She reminded herself that “curiosity killed the cat.” In her mind, her grandmother’s voice finished the old adage, “But satisfaction brought him back.”
Still, Catherine needed to ask herself if the risk would be worth it. These balls had become the one bright spot in her life. If she were to lose them too . . .
Then the ever-present pull gave a stronger tug, the sense that there was something else going on and she must investigate. The American woman had said “they” were dead. Catherine was a doctor. Surely she had a responsibility to investigate.
Glancing to make sure she was alone, she picked up her skirts and began the climb. Winded by the time she reached the last landing before the fourth floor, she paused to catch her breath, vowing to start exercising regularly. Catherine had been blessed with a fast metabolism, so people were forever thinking she was fitter than she was.
She climbed the last flight. The hallway was unremarkable, lined with paintings. Listening for the sounds of movement, she examined the portraits as she went down the hallway. She heard nothing, and she didn’t smell blood.
One door stood open, so she let the tug lead her inside. The long room held nothing but more paintings. How odd. There were a few chairs scattered around, but it didn’t look like it was meant to be a regular gathering place for people to sit together and talk.
Most of the pictures were busts of individuals, but in the center of the room hung a large painting of five people, three women and two men. Catherine blinked. It was the Americans, and their painted images wore the same clothing the five had on tonight. She shivered.
The young man she’d danced with hadn’t attended the Regency immersion vacation, having only arrived that day. When had someone had time to paint him? She’d also never heard that Twickenham had an artist on staff.
She studied the rest of the pictures in the room. Some were dressed in Regency clothing, but there were many others that spanned several eras. The one with the Americans was the only picture of such a large group. Whoever had arranged the paintings lacked any sense of design, leaving large sections of the walls empty.
That pull came again, as though Catherine had a string attached to her chest that drew her. This time it was to a portrait of a man placed to the right of the one with the Americans. Catherine came to stand before his painting, wondering who he was.
He appeared to be a little older than she was with a few silver strands at his temples. He also had what she’d call a regal bearing. She worked with enough surgeons and specialists who were used to being in charge, and this man had that look about him. He also wore an expression of someone with a fierce determination, the type of man people would steer clear of.
Catherine stepped closer to the painting. Behind the force of will that he projected, he had pain etched on his face. Her heart ached for him. What had happened to mark him that way?
Author Donna Weaver
Award-winning author-wife-mother-grandmother-Army veteran-karate black belt-Harry Potter nerd-online gamer.
Giveaway Details
$25 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash Giveaway
Ends 3/20/19
Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. This giveaway was organized by Kathy from Clean Wholesome Romance and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Against the Magic by Donna K Weaver
Reese Hamilton has big plans to help make the world a better place and a new job lined up to help her do it. Before starting work, she heads to England for a Regency immersive experience. She doesn’t expect her best friend to invite her heart-destroying brother to join them. Two years hasn’t been long enough for Reese to forget him. Then fae magic rips them back to 1850. It’s a time when women have few rights. It’s also a time when a determined woman could make a difference, with the right man at her side. Reese finds she will have to choose between two men and two times.
Jem Taylor messed up big when he walked away from Reese to pursue his dream job. He hasn’t been able to forget her and jumps at his sister’s invitation. Suddenly hurtled into Victorian England, he has the chance to woo Reese again. But to do it, he’ll have to fight the magic that brought her to 1850 and an Earl with the means to keep her there.
"I don't usually like time travel novels but the humor, banter and the attraction kept me enthralled. A great love story with a little history lesson, a happy ending and a hook." ~K.B.
"A magical read" ~ Jennifer Soppe
“And where might you be going, Miss Hamilton?” The Earl surveyed the items stacked behind her.
“To your tenant village, my lord.” When his gaze darted to hers, she arched a brow, daring him to stop her.
“My tenants are none of your business.” His voice had turned hard, unrelenting.
“One visit there showed me they have been none of your business either,” she said sharply before remembering he could stop her efforts right now. “My lord.”
The Earl shot her another of his hard glances. “I shall accompany you then.” He waved to the groom. “In the back.” When the young man had vacated the seat beside her, Gareth took his place. He snapped the whip and the horse surged forward. “I have not visited there in years.”
“That was obvious,” Reese muttered. “Do you have someone handle the management of your estate for you?”
“Yes.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “My man of business.”
“You might want to consider hiring a new one then,” she said, “because I’m underwhelmed.”
“Underwhelmed,” the Earl repeated. “I don’t believe I have heard that word before. Is it something you Americans invented?”
“Yankee ingenuity,” she said.
“Yankee arrogance, I would say.”
“Americans don’t have a monopoly on arrogance.” Reese kept her face forward.
Author Donna K. Weaver
Award-winning author, wife, mother, grandmother, Harry Potter geek, Army veteran, karate black belt, and online gamer girl.
Giveaway Details
$25 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash Giveaway
Ends 3/12/18
Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. This giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.