Audiobook Release Blitz + Giveaway: Stylite: Mystery (Stylite Chronicles #1) by Tag Gregory & Lily Marie

Authors Tag Gregory & Lily Marie, along with IndiGo Marketing. celebrate the audiobook release of William Pierre narrated romantic suspense, Stylite: Mystery (Stylite Chronicles #1)! Discover more and enter in the eBook giveaway to books #2 + #3 of The Stylite Chronicles!

Title: Stylite: Mystery

Series: The Stylite Chronicles - Book One

Author: Tag Gregory & Lily Marie

Narrator: William Pierre

Publisher: Self-Published

Release Date: 5/1/21

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 05 Hours 48 Minutes

Genre: Romance, Mystery, History, LGBTQ, Contemporary Gay Literature

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Synopsis

Book One of the Stylite Chronicles. A curious art history student disturbs a lonely recluse holed up in an historic building in downtown Pittsburgh's "Golden Triangle". Together, they investigate the mystery behind the building and in the process unearth evidence of a long-dead, illicit love affair. Will that ancient romance help kindle a modern one for our history sleuths at the same time? 

It's a Mystery, History, Romance.

Excerpt

Egbert seemed quite taken by the end result and my ego swelled several sizes as he looked at the pictures, even asking me to make them bigger at times so he could see certain details better. I started to explain some of the various techniques I’d employed and why I’d added some of the different elements.

“I like this part,” he said, his finger shaking slightly as he pointed towards a particularly detailed part of my painting that incorporated some of the details from the cornice work of the building.

I beamed once again. Having him like my work meant a lot to me; which was odd, because usually, as long as I liked my work I didn’t care so much what others thought. But all of a sudden it mattered what THIS guy thought. That was different. It made me uncomfortable, but uncomfortable in a good way maybe. I’d have to think on why, exactly, that was. Later, though, because I was too busy bragging to my man to worry on it right then.

“. . . Yeah. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out and all,” I summarized when it seemed like we’d talked the painting to death finally. “Now I just have to hope that my professor agrees when I turn it in tomorrow.”

“So, as of tomorrow, you’re done with the project?” Egbert asked, sounding a little disappointed by that prospect.

“Yeah. Which is good, too, because I have to get started on studying for finals for my other classes, all of which I put off while I was working on this monster.” When Mystery Man looked away, seeming to hesitate about whatever it was he’d been about to say, I felt like I’d said something wrong. To backtrack I asked, “why? Was there something else? Something you think I missed?”

“No. No, nothing like that,” he stumbled over whatever it was he meant to say for a moment or two until it seemed like he just decided to blurt it out. “It’s just that, when you seemed interested in that old letter and the drawing, I remembered that my grandfather had a file of old records he kept that he’d found when he bought the building, and I thought you might be interested in looking through them. But, if you’re done with the project, I guess you wouldn’t be interested . . .”

“No! I mean, yeah, I’m finished with the project, but I would definitely love to take a look at whatever you’ve found. Really. If you’re okay with that?”

He looked relieved when I insisted I was still interested and I watched as he unlocked one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out a huge leather binder, filled to the brim with ageing papers. I was surprised that the file was one of the least clean things in the entire building. There might have even been some dust on the jacket of the folder. But, since it was dust that had been in the building for a while, as opposed to dust that came from some stranger outside, maybe it was safe enough, because my man just swiped at it perfunctorily with one of his wipes and then seemed good.

He placed the folder on the desk and pushed it towards me. “Here, knock yourself out.”

I paused briefly before making my way over and running my hand along the smooth leather surface of the file folder; it was so soft. “Wow.”

“You can . . .” He cleared his throat once again. “You can take it home with you to have a look through if you’d like. I just . . . I need it back.”

I couldn’t seem to control my face around this man, I don’t think I’d smiled this much in years. He was basically inviting me back! Well, that’s what I was taking from it anyway. “You know, I might have questions while I’m looking through this stuff. If I can’t figure it out, maybe I could come back and you could go over it with me? You might know more about the history, after all,” I suggested.

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, like it didn’t bother him either way, but I knew that he liked my suggestion. “Sure. I could make time,” he replied, trying to sound all cool and unconcerned even though I could detect a smile hiding in that beard of his. “I’m . . . I’m not busy tomorrow afternoon.”

I wondered when he was ever busy, seeing as he didn’t seem to ever leave the building, but I didn’t think our relationship was ready for that line of questioning yet. “Sounds great. I should be done with classes by around three tomorrow. How about I come back after that?”

“Okay,” he agreed readily enough. “Although, I suspect this is probably the first time in history someone invited their burglar to come back for more.”

“I’m not a burglar. Just . . .”

“Just a brat. I know,” he teased me with that glint of humor in his eyes that I was starting to get to like.

“Good thing you like brats, huh?” I replied, because, yeah, I WAS a brat and, as a brat, I wasn’t about to let him get the last word like that. Then I picked up the binder full of documents and my bag and started for the door before he could say anything more. “See you tomorrow, Egbert.

“Later, Brat.”

In my head I was already planning out what I’d say when I saw my Mystery Man the following day as I galloped down the stairs and out the lobby doors. I felt a little giddy - which was a word you really don’t understand until it happens to you, but which I now totally GOT, because I felt giddy as a fucking school girl and that was really pathetic, I know, but it was how I felt so deal with it, okay...

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 Meet the Author

Tag Gregory and Lily Marie are the co-authors of several exciting romance series, including the Time Adventures Series and The Stylite Chronicles. Tag has been writing for almost a decade, bringing an eclectic background as a lawyer, microbiologist, all-around nerd, and adventurer. Lily has also been writing for several years, is a resident of the UK, and is the more visually creative of the two. Together they bring an off-kilter sense of humor, unbounded curiosity, a love of details, and astonishing powers of research to all their writing. If you are looking for a gripping story, with compelling characters that deal with real world issues, then you're in the right place.

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: Time Cures (Time Adventures #4) by Tag Gregory & Lily Marie

 

Authors Tag Gregory and Lily Marie, along with IndiGo Marketing, make a tour stop for time travel romance, Time Cures (Time Adventures #4)! Not only are they hosting a Time Blitz eBook giveaway, author Tag Gregory chats about having strange browser history as a result of being a writer. Check it out!

Title: Time Cures

Series: Time Adventures Series, #4

Author: Tag Gregory & Lily Marie

Publisher: Self-Published

Release Date: 2/14/21

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 238

Genre: Romance, Time Travel, Adventure, LGBTQ

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Synopsis

Cocky American Ad Exec, Bradley Connors, and his courageous ex-RAF fighter pilot husband, Janes Garrett, are back in London and once again separated through the power of time. With James stranded  in 1956 during a polio outbreak, a world of homophobia threatens to keep him from the man he loves. How will he talk himself out of the trouble he’s unwittingly creating? Who from his past can he rely on to help him get home to Bradley? Will they be able to save their friends from the deadly pandemic or will they too perish in the attempt? And can they do all this while reaffirming that nothing can tear their love apart, not even time itself? Time Cures is a love story like no other. It’s a romance through time.

Excerpt

“Considering the length of time he was unconscious, I feel it imperative that he remain in hospital for at least the next twenty-four hours for observation. Provided no other symptoms manifest, he can be released to his family at that time,” Dr. Donaldson advised.

James was relieved that the diagnosis wasn’t worse. He knew Bradley was still going to be angry at him for getting hurt. Again. At least he would be angry - once Bradley got over being relieved - when James finally got around to calling him.

“Pardon me, Doctor,” the nurse interrupted before the doctor could make his grand exit. “But, before ya came in, the patient was showing signs of confusion and talkin’ all sorts a nonsense. I’m thinking he mighta banged his ‘ead a bit harder than he’s lettin’ on.”

“Confusion?” That got the good doctor’s attention.

“Yes, Doctor. He was spoutin’ some nonsense ‘bout needin’ to ring his husband, an’ seemed to think he had a telephone in that kit bag of ‘is.” The nurse pointed to James’ messenger bag while giving the doctor a knowing look.

“Is that so . . .” The doctor turned back to his patient, one bushy eyebrow raised inquisitively, much more interested in the young blond man now than he had been initially. “Do you remember your name, son?”

“Yes, of course. It’s James Garrett.”

The doctor nodded and asked another question. “Do you remember the accident that gave you that bump on the head?”

James thought about it, but just came up blank. He started to shake his head to indicate ‘no’, only the gesture made the dizziness and nausea worse. He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “No,” he moaned.

“Well, that’s not a good sign,” Doctor Obvious surmised, his eyebrows knitting together so closely that they now looked like one long, hairy caterpillar creeping across his forehead. “Now, what’s all this chit chat about a telephone and a husband?”

“I just want to call him and let him know where I’m at,” James offered, feeling and sounding pathetic even to his own ears.

“You say you have a . . . Husband ?” The doctor very clearly emphasized the word ‘husband’ in a disbelieving tone of voice.

“Yes! I want to call MY HUSBAND, okay?” James was losing patience with the proceedings and his voice had risen commensurately with his annoyance level. “His name is Bradley Connors. We’re here visiting from the United States; Bradley has business with a big client here. We’re staying at The Strand Palace. He’s probably waiting for me there and, most likely, has already called the police to help find me. If you’d just let me get my cell phone out of my bag I can call him and he’ll come down here and take me to a different hospital where they’ll stop asking me idiotic questions . . .”

The doctor interrupted him before he could continue his rant. “Do you know where you are right now?”

“You mean the hospital? The nurse said it was St. Bart’s. Or do you mean London?”

“Righteo. And what’s the date?”

“Um . . .” James had to think a little about that, his memory going a little fuzzy on him. “I think it’s still Monday, right? August . . . August 14th?”

“Close. You got the date correct but it’s Tuesday. What about the year?”

“2017 . . . ?” James answered, starting to get a funny feeling about where all these questions were leading.

“Hmmmm,” was Donaldson’s only reply. Then he turned to the nurse with more directions. “Clearly, this is a much more serious case than I previously suspected. We could be looking at Traumatic Encephalopathy or, perhaps, some type of advanced psychosis. I’m going to call in Dr. Abbott for a psychiatric evaluation. Change the charge order to note a seventy-two hour hold.” Returning his attention to the patient he added, “never fear, young man. We’re going to take good care of you. Hopefully, by the time we’re done here, you’ll be in tiptop shape once more, back in full possession of all your mental faculties.”

With that proclamation, Dr. Donaldson spun about and started for the door.

“Wait,” James shouted after the departing man before he could exit. “What year is it, really?”

“1956, of course!”

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Author Visit

Strange Browser History
By: Tag Gregory

What’s the difference between a serial killer and an author?

Well, if you’re judging them by the search history that comes up on their computers, not much.

In the decade or so that I’ve been writing, I’ve pretty much researched everything. That’s not much of an exaggeration, either. You name it and I’ve either researched it or I’ve asked someone else about it. Because that’s what a meticulous writer, who’s lived a relatively sheltered life, does. We research the crap out of stuff so we can write about it more convincingly. And it doesn’t matter if that ‘stuff’ is about how to knit a sweater or how to kill someone without getting caught. It’s really all the same thing to us authors.

This, of course, reminds me of the give and take in the writing community between ‘own voices’ vs. imagination. Don’t get me wrong; I’m a 100% supporter of ‘own voices’. Traditionally marginalized groups SHOULD get more representation in the literary world. I would never argue against that proposition or begrudge a person from an underrepresented group writing about her or his own experiences and getting their work recognized.

But, in my personal opinion, there’s still a place in the writing community for imagination too. Nobody should be arguing that an author can’t effectively write about something outside their lived experience. Because, as long as I can imagine it, I can write about it. That’s the best part of writing, to be honest; the celebration of imagination. It’s all about getting to the essence of the creativity of the author. With the magic of research, I can be anyone or anything I want to be. It’s all about translating that spark of imagination into a reality you form with your words and your intellect and your curiosity through the medium of your research. And that’s what makes it fun.

I mean, Stephen King isn’t a psychopathic killer - or at least I don’t think he is - but he writes a damn convincing murderer. And I don’t think J.K. Rowling is really a wizard either. So you shouldn’t be giving me a hard time about writing scenes set in a gay bath house in the 1940s. I may not have lived in that time or seen those sights with my own eyes, but I’m one hell of a great researcher, and I can and do write about anything and everything I can discover through my research.

With a library card and an internet connection I can write anything.

You don’t believe me? Well, here’s just a short list of some of the crazy things I’ve had to research over the years...

I mentioned before that I’ve researched how to kill people. I’ve done that for more than one story, so the methods I’ve read up about span the gamut from the damage a bullet does to the human body, to blunt force trauma, to poison, to how fast anaphylactic shock sets in if you’re dosed with something you’re allergic to. Because of this morbid bent, a lot of my characters end up in the hospital - repeatedly - so I’m always looking at medical websites to figure out how to treat them, whether they’ll die from whatever injury or illness I’ve given them, and how fast they’ll take to recover. Along the way I’ve had to know about the history of vaccines, when the first x-ray was taken, how an iron lung works, and what first aid kits looked like in the 1940s. I spent one whole evening researching infectious disease control measures and the history of virology. I know the entire history of how CPR was developed. I know all the symptoms and treatments for both OCD and PTSD. I’ve written a lot of stories centered around abuse, so I’m pretty much an expert these days on everything including physical, mental and narcissistic abuse. I don’t know why I love torturing my characters so much, but I really should learn to write at least one story that doesn’t involve a hospital.

I’m a total perfectionist, so I’m constantly looking at maps of the settings for my stories. I love maps. I especially love interactive maps. When we were writing Time Blitz I spent days playing around on this amazing interactive map that shows where every single bomb was landed in London during WWII. And I don’t even want to calculate how many hours I’ve spent on Google Street View looking at places I can’t go myself. I’ve calculated the exact distances between buildings and city blocks and cities and continents. I’ve even drawn my own maps of places that didn’t quite exist in reality. I’m not above using real life places while also augmenting them with additions I make up to fit my plots. So, while I often work off real photos - thus making sure I describe something as meticulously as possible - I’m not above embellishing where needed. I’m so hung up on place settings and maps and locations, though, that I’ve flown all the way across the country to take pictures of buildings I plan to use in my stories and walk the streets of a city just to make sure I soak up the correct ambience.

My research isn’t limited to physicalities. I research pretty much anything that comes across my computer as I write. I’m such a nerd. I once spent an hour researching the history of M&Ms. I’ve researched architectural styles. I’ve researched the history of various schools of art. I’ve researched art school and the typical curriculum particular schools offer. I’ve looked up the names of the US Senators from Pennsylvania back to the 1950s. I’ve had to search for the names of various styles of dress and styles of eyeglass frames and who makes designer wristwatches and where you buy vintage suits and how long Burberry has been in business. I know when the first showers were put into hotels and when en suite bathrooms became popular. I once had to look up when photo booths were invented. I’m an expert in how tall a stack of $5,000 worth of $100 bills would be. I know the RAF’s motto - Through Adversity To The Stars. I know the most popular Sikh boys names in 2017. I looked up the release date of Fantasia and what the top grossing films of 1941 were and the name of the best selling novel in 1956. I even watched about a million hours of videos of swing dancing so I could write about it. And, yes, all these things are tediously esoteric, but I get off on this kind of stuff, so sue me.

Perfectionist that I am, I even research all the sexier parts of the stories I write. Because I wouldn’t want to write a sex scene that involves multiple partners and have it come off as unrealistic. So, yeah, I watch my share of porn - but only for educational purposes. *Wink* I’ve read ‘The Joy of Gay Sex’, The Kama Sutra and articles on tantric massage. I’ve also researched the history of condoms and, specifically, what types and brands of condoms were available in WWII. I’ve researched all sorts of STDs. I spent almost a week reading a detailed history of the AIDS epidemic. I’ve read books about what it was like being gay in various eras and how homosexuals were treated throughout history. I’ve spent many facinated hours researching the history of sex toys, and learned so much, you wouldn’t believe it. And, just to make sure that I’m accurately describing what I’m writing, I’ve drawn diagrams (using stick figures, because I’m not that artistic) to work out kinky sex scenes and watched YouTube videos of judo throws to see just how a man’s body would work and how his muscles would flex in specific scenes. I know, it’s tough work, but somebody HAS to research these things. I wouldn’t want to get any of it wrong.

The Time Adventures Series - because they are time travel stories - have been especially interesting for a born researcher like myself. I’m in seventh heaven here, folks. I literally can’t get enough of researching and writing these books.

For the latest book, Time Cures, I had a lot of fun learning more about 1950s London and the post-WWII changes that happened to the City. But that wasn’t enough, because our heroes do a little travelling in this book. So I had to research the history of jet airplanes, commercial airlines, and the exact specifications, air speed, fuel capacities, and maximum ceiling of prop-engine planes from the 1950s. That led down a rabbit hole where I ended up reading all about Howard Huges for several hours. To get a more personal take, I interviewed my step-dad - who had a pilots’ license back in the 1960s and 1970s before he lost it for flying under a bridge in a crop duster plane (he promises he wasn’t as drunk as they claimed) - about the quirks of flying older planes. He gave me some great ideas about how to crash an airplane. Then I spent most of one whole night sitting down and actually writing out a flight plan for how to cross the Atlantic ocean in a prop-engine plane; which I later scrapped as soon as it became clear the idea was completely infeasible. This endeavor was complicated by trying to figure out which airfields existed in 1956, which was made more difficult, in part, because the names of the various airports in use since then have all changed. Spoiler: I had a LOT of fun working on this plotline and I think it shows when you read the story.

Thankfully, my co-author, Lily, is Brit herself, so I had some help with the more British parts of the research. Lily is the one who helped me write effectively about pre-decimalized English pounds, shillings, and pence. Lily is the one who recommended we make reference to The Great Ormond Street Hospital. She’s also the one who researched and supervised my attempts to write Irish and Scottish and Welsh accents. Lily also knows about London and corrects anything I get wrong about the locations there. When needed - at least in the pre-COVID days - I could always send her on field trips around the City. These books couldn’t have been written without Lily’s expertise.

Oh, and don’t even get me started on my ridiculously extensive research - including reading I don’t even remember how many scientific articles found on Google Scholar - about how magnets can be used to extend batteries and enhance electrical fields. Armed with that knowledge, I spent Christmas Eve in a long and deliciously technical conversation with the husband of a friend, who happens to be a Physics Professor, over homebrewed cider, discussing whether or not time travel was theoretically possible. (He assures me it isn’t no matter how many times I tried to point out papers I’d read by physicists theorizing about how strong magnetic fields actually alter Einstein’s famous E=mc2 formula . . .) We’ll see about that; because remember how I was going on about imagination? Pretty sure H.G. Wells never really invented a time machine. Or did he?

Which brings me back around to my strange browser history again. I’ve never actually had the need, but I now know how to forge a passport. I looked up the best ways to get or create a fake ID. I’ve thoroughly researched how to pick a lock. I know where to steal explosives. I know how to fake my own death and even how to frame someone else for the crime. I’ve lost track of exactly how many men I’ve killed over the years without ever getting caught.

So, I’m just saying . . . If you’re with the FBI and you’re reading this post, please don’t arrest me for that last search I did on how to build a bomb. I swear it’s only for a story. Really. I promise.

Meet the Authors

TAG has been writing for almost a decade, starting out with a hesitant toe in the realm of fanfiction before venturing into the scarier world of self-publishing original works. With an eclectic background as a lawyer, microbiologist, all-around nerd, and adventurer, TAG brings that off-kilter sense of humor, unbounded curiosity, a love of details, and astonishing powers of research to all their writing. If you are looking for a griping story, with compelling characters that deal with real world issues, then you're in the right place.

Lily has been writing close to for twenty years, but has only ever (until recently) dipped her toes into writing fan-fiction. Lily is a born and bred Londoner and loves nothing more than getting lost in a book - whether it be writing one of her own, or reading something from one of her favorite authors. In her spare time, Lily likes to think of herself as somewhat of a disability rights activist, helping to create change for those that may not have a voice to speak up or, like Lily herself, those that may have been too quiet to stand up for themselves.

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Schedule

2/22 My Fiction Nook

2/23 Mirrigold Mutterings and Musings

2/24 Bayou Book Junkie

2/25 Boy Meets Boy Reviews

2/26 Love Bytes

Giveaway

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Time Cures (Time Adventures #4) by Tag Gregory & Lily Marie

Join authors Tag Gregory and Lily Marie, along with IndiGo Marketing, as they celebrate the release of time travel romance, Time Cures (Time Adventures #4)! Find out more about the adventure and enter in the giveaway to win your own eBook copy!

Title: Time Cures

Series: Time Adventures Series, #4

Author: Tag Gregory & Lily Marie

Publisher: Self-Published

Release Date: 2/14/21

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 238

Genre: Romance, Time Travel, Adventure, LGBTQ

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Cocky American Ad Exec, Bradley Connors, and his courageous ex-RAF fighter pilot husband, Janes Garrett, are back in London and once again separated through the power of time. With James stranded  in 1956 during a polio outbreak, a world of homophobia threatens to keep him from the man he loves. How will he talk himself out of the trouble he’s unwittingly creating? Who from his past can he rely on to help him get home to Bradley? Will they be able to save their friends from the deadly pandemic or will they too perish in the attempt? And can they do all this while reaffirming that nothing can tear their love apart, not even time itself? Time Cures is a love story like no other. It’s a romance through time.

Excerpt

“Considering the length of time he was unconscious, I feel it imperative that he remain in hospital for at least the next twenty-four hours for observation. Provided no other symptoms manifest, he can be released to his family at that time,” Dr. Donaldson advised.

James was relieved that the diagnosis wasn’t worse. He knew Bradley was still going to be angry at him for getting hurt. Again​. At least he ​would​ be angry - once Bradley got over being relieved - when James finally got around to calling him.

“Pardon me, Doctor,” the nurse interrupted before the doctor could make his grand exit. “But, before ya came in, the patient was showing signs of confusion and talkin’ all sorts a nonsense. I’m thinking he mighta banged his ‘ead a bit harder than he’s lettin’ on.”

“Confusion?” That got the good doctor’s attention.

“Yes, Doctor. He was spoutin’ some nonsense ‘bout needin’ to ring his ​husband, ​ an’ seemed to think he had a ​telephone​ in that kit bag of ‘is.” The nurse pointed to James’ messenger bag while giving the doctor a knowing look.

“Is that so . . .” The doctor turned back to his patient, one bushy eyebrow raised inquisitively, much more interested in the young blond man now than he had been initially. “Do you remember your name, son?”

“Yes, of course. It’s James Garrett.”

The doctor nodded and asked another question. “Do you remember the accident that gave you that bump on the head?”

James thought about it, but just came up blank. He started to shake his head to indicate ‘no’, only the gesture made the dizziness and nausea worse. He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “No,” he moaned.

“Well, that’s not a good sign,” Doctor Obvious surmised, his eyebrows knitting together so closely that they now looked like one long, hairy caterpillar creeping across his forehead. “Now, what’s all this chit chat about a telephone and a husband?”

“I just want to call him and let him know where I’m at,” James offered, feeling and sounding pathetic even to his own ears.

“You say you have a . . . ​Husband​ ?” The doctor very clearly emphasized the word ‘husband’ in a disbelieving tone of voice.

“Yes! I want to call MY HUSBAND, okay?” James was losing patience with the proceedings and his voice had risen commensurately with his annoyance level. “His name is Bradley Connors. We’re here visiting from the United States; Bradley has business with a big client here. We’re staying at The Strand Palace. He’s probably waiting for me there and, most likely, has already called the police to help find me. If you’d just let me get my cell phone out of my bag I can call him and he’ll come down here and take me to a different hospital where they’ll stop asking me idiotic questions . . .”

The doctor interrupted him before he could continue his rant. “Do you know where you are right now?”

“You mean the hospital? The nurse said it was St. Bart’s. Or do you mean London?”

“Righteo. And what’s the date?”

“Um . . .” James had to think a little about that, his memory going a little fuzzy on him. “I think it’s still Monday, right? August . . . August 14th?”

“Close. You got the date correct but it’s Tuesday. What about the year?”

“2017 . . . ?” James answered, starting to get a funny feeling about where all these questions were leading.

“Hmmmm,” was Donaldson’s only reply. Then he turned to the nurse with more directions. “Clearly, this is a much more serious case than I previously suspected. We could be looking at Traumatic Encephalopathy or, perhaps, some type of advanced psychosis. I’m going to call in Dr. Abbott for a psychiatric evaluation. Change the charge order to note a seventy-two hour hold.” Returning his attention to the patient he added, “never fear, young man. We’re going to take good care of you. Hopefully, by the time we’re done here, you’ll be in tiptop shape once more, back in full possession of all your mental faculties.”

With that proclamation, Dr. Donaldson spun about and started for the door.

“Wait,” James shouted after the departing man before he could exit. “What year is it, really?”

“1956, of course!”

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Authors

TAG has been writing for almost a decade, starting out with a hesitant toe in the realm of fanfiction before venturing into the scarier world of self-publishing original works. With an eclectic background as a lawyer, microbiologist, all-around nerd, and adventurer, TAG brings that off-kilter sense of humor, unbounded curiosity, a love of details, and astonishing powers of research to all their writing. If you are looking for a griping story, with compelling characters that deal with real world issues, then you're in the right place.

Lily has been writing close to for twenty years, but has only ever (until recently) dipped her toes into writing fan-fiction. Lily is a born and bred Londoner and loves nothing more than getting lost in a book - whether it be writing one of her own, or reading something from one of her favorite authors. In her spare time, Lily likes to think of herself as somewhat of a disability rights activist, helping to create change for those that may not have a voice to speak up or, like Lily herself, those that may have been too quiet to stand up for themselves.

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