The past isn't over, it's an opening.
Crossing in Time
by DL Orton
Oh, come on. Drama is just life with the dull bits cut out.”
“Well, I’m ready for a long patch of boredom.”―
DL Orton, Crossing in Time
The past isn’t over, it’s an opening. The future isn’t hidden, it’s a trap.
If she ever wants to see him again, she’ll have to take the risk.
Fall into this “Funny, Romantic & Harrowing” (Publishers Weekly Starred Review) dystopian love story and prepare to encounter a finicky time machine, a mysterious seashell, and a very clever dog (some sex, some swearing, some violence, but no vampires and absolutely NO ditzes!)
When offered a one-way trip to the past, Isabel sacrifices everything for a chance to change the rapidly deteriorating present–and see her murdered lover one last time. When she arrives twenty years in the past, buck naked and mortally wounded, she has 24 hours to convince a stunned but enraptured nineteen-year-old to change their future. Definitely easier said than done, as success means losing him to a brainy, smart-mouthed bombshell (her younger self), and that’s a heart breaker, save the world or not.
This offbeat tale is about falling madly in love when one is too cynical for such things, letting go of pessimism when it’s the last life jacket on a sinking ship, and racing against the clock when one doesn’t have the proper footwear. It’s a coming-of-age story for old fogeys, a how-to-make-love guide for diehard celibates, and a laugh-out-loud tragedy with a hopeful twist.
Excerpt From Crossing in Time
I meet the gun trader’s bloodshot eyes.
He replaces his cap, no longer making an effort to hide his amusement. “Whatcha got to trade?”
“Black pepper and cinnamon—and a bit of dry mustard, if you want it.”
He leans sideways to see how big my pack is, his boots teetering on one of a dozen milk crates snaking around him. “That all?”
I glance over at the stall next to us. A gaunt man and his two teenage sons are attempting to trade a laptop computer for a half-dozen eggs. I turn back to the chubby gun dealer. “You could swap them for meat.”
He kicks a basket full of what I realize is hand- made jerky.
“Or—” I can feel my face flush. “You could trade them for rice?”
He guffaws and eases back into the chair. “I’m not much for Chinese food.”
I turn away, irritated with myself, but absurdly relieved by his rejection. There are few things I find more repulsive than a gun.
Minutes turn into hours, and lifetimes into moments. Universes are created and destroyed with nary a pop. What was saved, no longer exists. What was lost, no longer matters.―
DL Orton, Crossing Time
On the other side of the parking lot, a bearded old man is selling walnut-sized potatoes from a doublewide stroller. Rip Van Winkle nods, and I return his greeting, wondering how long the world can survive on seed potatoes and discarded baby gear.
“Still…” The gun trader waits for me to meet his eyes. “I s’pose I could use some fancy flavorings on my venison.”
I regard the only overweight man in a sea of famine, disgusted with the whole human race and embarrassed by my own full stomach.
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Where to find it?
I received a copy of this for the tour in exchange for my open and honest review.
About the Author
AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR D. L. ORTON lives in the Rocky Mountains where she and her husband are raising three boys, a golden retriever, two Siberian cats, and an extremely long-lived Triops.
In her spare time, she’s building a time machine so that someone can go back and do the laundry.
Ms Orton is a graduate of Stanford University’s Writers Workshop and a past editor of “Top of the Western Staircase,” a literary publication of CU, Boulder. The author has a number of short stories published in online literary magazines, including Literotica, Melusine, Cosmoetica, The Ranfurly Review, and Catalyst Press.