Have fun and hold on to your hats…time travel is a fast and dangerous business.

If you could travel through time, what would you go back and change? Would you assassinate a villain? Prevent disease? Stop a disaster before it happens? Invest in Google, Microsoft or Apple before anyone knew how big they would become? Or would you be afraid to alter the time line and allow events to unfold no matter how sinister? Tell me, and you could win. I’m giving away a $5 Starbucks gift card and a free copy of the first two books in the TIMEWALKER series: RED NIGHT and SILVER STORM this week!

I am honored to be here and excited to give you all a glimpse into how everything started in Book 1 of my Timewalker Series, RED NIGHT. My heroines travel through time to battle an unseen enemy and overwhelming odds. Luckily, there are some perks, such as unusual paranormal powers and one Uber-Hot man willing to fight next to her and make love to her like there’s no tomorrow (for them…there might not be.) I hope you enjoy this excerpt from the first book with Alexa, a woman who can make herself invisible, and the handsome genius she’s sent through time to assassinate…

RED NIGHT: Timewalker Chronicles – Book 1
(Just $.99 on Amazon Kindle)

Prologue
Despite years of warnings, Alexa was not prepared for the freezing shock of her journey. She wanted to scream in agony, but she had no air to breathe in this in-between dimension. Her mother had explained the frigid reality of the time strands, how her naked flesh would feel as if it were being systematically stripped to her bones by endless shards of splintering ice. This one-way trip to the past would last less than a minute. One minute in her own personal Purgatory, and her sins had been many. So, she gritted her teeth and waited. Waited for the agony to subside. Waited for the nirvana of soft green grass brushing at her skin like a thousand tickling fingertips.

Her mother had been a Timewalker, and her mother before her, and so on, since the Archivers had begun recording the Chronicles Of Time. Death or Service. That had been her ancestor’s choice, and the eldest daughter in each generation now owed the Archivers a life. The family gift — invisibility — had been handed down from mother to daughter for generations. Her heritage swelled her head and chest with pride. But the unrelenting grip of her ancestry also squeezed her with arduous pressure, demanding she not fail. She did not want to be the first of her line to bring her name dishonor. However, a far heavier burden threatened to pull her into the suffocating quicksand of fear. Billions of lives were at stake. Billions.

She would not fail. She was ready. Her mother had ensured that, taught her how to use her gift to cloak her presence, prepared her for the call of the Archivers and their freezing strands. The Timewalkers were never called upon to ride the strands of time unless the assignment was of catastrophic importance. There was no such thing as an easy task. She had also warned her daughter not to fall victim to the pounding of the blood, the passion of her Gift, until it was safe to do so. The distraction would endanger the strand of time she must now, and forever after, walk upon.
Forever. In a strange world.

Alone.

Panic rose in a crescendo to choke her. Then, as quickly as her roller coaster ride through this icy hell began, it was over. Precious air flooded her starving lungs with heat. She lay semi-conscious on the soft ground and tried to get her bearings as a torrent of warm rain crashed down upon her. A single tear escaped and mingled with the rain on her face. Reality squeezed her heart so tightly she feared it would stop beating. She had arrived, unscathed. There was no going back.
Earth 8. Midnight, May 15, 2012. Unless the Archiver had erred.
Heaven help her then. Heaven help the world.

Chapter One

Never once, in all the years of her rebellious youth, had she ever been a thief. How ironic that now, when the fate of this world hung in the balance, everything she had was contraband. She leaned back into the taxi’s sticky plastic seat and hoped the crisp white cotton Capri pants and shirt wouldn’t be ruined by the filth. A twenty-dollar bill burned in her pocket to pay the cabbie. Alexa sunk her teeth into a huge red apple and hoped the fruit would provide enough energy to keep her going for a few hours. Doom Central was calling her name.

Alexa laughed out loud at her own joke and ignored the cab driver’s questioning glance. The overworked cabbie should be used to seeing all sorts of odd things in a city the size of San Antonio. But even here, she knew she was unique. Her waist-length hair was braided and so pale it gleamed silver. Her eyes flashed a vivid blue in a heart-shaped face. Father had always said she was sixty-two inches of trouble wrapped up in a deceptively innocent looking package. The thought made her want to laugh. And cry.

Too soon the cab driver dropped her off at her destination, one of a handful of Biosafety Level 4 laboratories in the country. The lucky place which, in three days time, would be the epicenter of the end of the world. Earth 8 had died a slow and painful death. It took just under five years from the first diagnosed case of “Red Death” for ninety-five percent of the world’s population to be wiped out. And it all started here. No-Where-Ville, Texas. A party like any other…a night colored red with blood.

Yes. She had three more days to track down the two men in charge, erase every piece of data related to the virus, and break into that lab and kill every single cell of “Mutation-6 of Ebola” in existence. M-6 they called it, until it escaped. Then it became the “Red Death”, named for the hemorrhagic nature of the victim’s death. They should have called it, “stupid-what-the-hell-were-we-thinking?”

“Men.” The car stopped. Alexa slid out of the back seat of the cab, ignored the driver’s mumbling, and handed him the twenty through his open window with a bright smile pasted on her full pink lips. “Always think they can beat Mother Nature.”
Alexa turned away from the cab. The driver took off mumbling about the faults of crazy women. When she was sure he was gone, she quickly jogged to within sight of the eight hundred twenty-one acre complex.

It was still early. She stopped to lean against the fence and calm her mind. It took tremendous energy to draw the light to her body and redirect it, rendering herself invisible. Cloaking, her mother called it. The semi-dark of pre-dawn would help her avoid unwanted notice. Once she was forced to cloak her presence, she wouldn’t be able to sustain the illusion for more than a couple of hours without a break. And then she’d be so hungry, she’d probably kill for a sandwich.

She patted the protein bar and mozzarella cheese stick in her pants pocket for courage and mumbled to herself, “Such is the glamorous life of the Timewalkers.”
The building employees changed shifts at 8:00 a.m. A quick glance at her stolen Tinkerbelle watch told her she had fifteen minutes. Already, parking lot activity was picking up. Time to move in.

Alexa closed her eyes and stilled the chaos of her mind, called upon the quiet, watchful awareness within herself that allowed her to use her gift. She envisioned herself a small white crystal in a river of light, and pushed the rays out and around her until it flowed like water over a small rock. Many times she’d watched her mother, practiced, and studied the effect in a mirror. It was like looking at something you thought was there, but could never quite see. Bright light made it harder to hide the soft edges of the effect. It wasn’t perfect, but no one could see her unless they knew what to look for.

Luckily for her, no one would be looking. Besides, no one could be truly awake at this ungodly hour. She needed at least two cups of coffee to form a coherent thought before noon. This morning she’d had five.

Silent as a shadow, she crept up to the double glass doors at the entrance and scouted the parking lot for someone she could follow inside…

READ MORE… http://amzn.to/UKw5vf