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  • Reaching Through Time: Three Novellas
  • Written by Lurlene McDaniel
  • Format: Trade Paperback | ISBN: 9780440240181
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  • Reaching Through Time: Three Novellas
  • Written by Lurlene McDaniel
  • Format: eBook | ISBN: 9780375899492
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Reaching Through Time: Three Novellas

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Written by Lurlene McDanielAuthor Alerts:  Random House will alert you to new works by Lurlene McDaniel

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List Price: $8.99

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On Sale: August 09, 2011
Pages: 240 | ISBN: 978-0-375-89949-2
Published by : Delacorte Books for Young Readers RH Childrens Books
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ABOUT THE BOOK ABOUT THE BOOK
ABOUT THE AUTHOR ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Synopsis|Excerpt

Synopsis

What's Happened to Me?
     Sarah finds herself in a strange place, and she can recall only one thing—her name. A young man, Heath de Charon, explains to Sarah that he found her unconscious on the grounds of his family's estate and has been caring for her. Sarah is thankful, but when she starts hearing voices that whisper for her to come back, she is confused, and desperate to find out where she really belongs.

When the Clock Chimes
     Drake Iverson lands a summer job on Sandstone Mountain. There are no computers; he has to do all the work by hand in a large leather-bound book. He doesn't mind, as long as he can be near Gina, who is pretty and kind. But when Gina falls ill, Drake is asked to leave. He is determined to find out what happened to Gina and to uncover other mysteries he encounters on Sandstone Mountain.

The Mysteries of Chance
     Dylan Sorenson offers his help to a girl who seems to be in distress. The girl, Maura, explains that she's simply overwhelmed by the heat and quickly runs off. But Maura is soon drawn back to Dylan and a friendship and budding romance begins. However, Maura doesn't reveal the whole truth about herself, and Dylan has secrets of his own. Can their relationship withstand the deception?


From the Hardcover edition.

Excerpt

1

She awoke in the dark, too terrified to move. Her eyes were wide open, but she saw nothing but blackness. Pressure squeezed her chest and she couldn't breathe. She grew light-headed, and just when she thought she would suffocate, she heaved a great gasping breath, like a drowning person breaking the surface of water. Air poured into her lungs and she gagged with the need for it.

At once the darkness was broken by the flare of a single light. "Don't be afraid," a man's voice said in her ear. "I'm right here."

She turned her head to see a glowing candle held aloft, and behind it, his face. Dark hair framed pale skin. He had angular cheekbones and a chiseled jaw, and his eyes were the color of rain. "Who--" she whispered, terror tracing the word.

"Don't be frightened. You're safe. I'm watching over you."

He reached out and stroked her cheek. His touch was cool, soothing, and her brain grew sluggish. She wondered if she had a fever.

"But where--" she asked.

"Time for questions and answers tomorrow," he interrupted. "For now, just sleep."

Her eyelids grew heavy, and despite all her fears, she closed her eyes and obeyed him.



When next she awoke, gray gloom had replaced the dark. She blinked up at a high canopy stretching above the bed where she lay. Tall windows dominated the wall directly in front of the bed, and lead-colored daylight seeped between partially drawn thick velvet drapes. Her heart pounded. She remembered the lighted candle, though, and the voice and face from behind it. She cut her eyes to the bedside.

The young man had kept his promise. He was stretched out in a chair, asleep. In the murky light she saw that her first impression of him had been accurate--dark tendrils of black hair fell over his forehead, and his skin was indeed pale. His hands were draped over the chair's arms, and his fingers were long and tapered, pale and smooth. The other thing she noticed was that he was quite elegant. He was lean, and dressed in leather breeches and a soft, loose white shirt open at his throat.

With one look at him she knew much more about him than she did about herself. Where was she? Who was she? Why had she no memory of herself? How could a person forget who she was? Her own name? Where memories should have been, she found only black holes.

"You're awake."

His voice startled her. She struggled to sit upright.

He moved quickly and gracefully to sit on the bedding beside her. "No, lie back. You're weak. Let me bring you something to eat."

She was weak. One more thing she didn't understand. He eased her against the pillow. "I'll be right back."

She grasped at his arm. "Please. Tell me what's happened to me."

His eyes, the irises so pale, the pupils black and fathomless, settled on hers. "I'll tell you everything I know as soon as you eat."

He left through a tall wooden door, and the second it closed, she eased to a sitting position. The room spun. She took deep breaths until her vision cleared. She examined the room, saw elaborate tapestries hanging along the wall that butted into the wall of windows and velvet curtains, and another wall heavy with elaborately carved pieces of furniture. Nothing looked familiar, only foreign and foreboding. She closed her eyes, dug deep, searching for some memory, anything that she could hold on to, to tell her about herself and where she was.

She moved her arms and then her legs beneath the covers. Her body worked. Nothing hurt. But her memory was a blank slate. She lifted the covers and saw that she wore a thick white cotton nightgown. Beneath that, she was naked. Before she even had time to wonder about it, the door opened and her benefactor came in carrying a tray. "Here you go--tea and wheat toast with honey. Cream and sugar for your tea."

She pulled the covers up to her chin, fisting the sheets and thick coverlet snugly to her body. "I don't know if I drink tea," she said.

"You'll like it," he said.

He set the tray across her lap and poured steaming brown liquid from a sparkling silver pot into a rose-patterned china cup so thin and finely made she could see through it. He settled himself on her bed to face her. "A little cream, and how about two sugars?"

She watched him drop two small white cubes into the cup with little silver tongs, then pour white cream from a silver pitcher that matched the teapot. He stirred the mixture with a silver spoon and lifted the cup and saucer toward her. "Drink up."

Her hands trembled as she reached for the cup, not wanting to look at him, but unable to help it; her gaze was drawn to his like a magnet to steel. His deep-set eyes were now the color of smoke, the pupils as dark as before. Her heart beat uncontrollably. He smiled warmly and she raised the cup to her mouth. The liquid tasted warm and sweet and began to revive her.

"It's good," she said, prying her gaze away from his.

"Excellent." He grinned, took the cup and picked up the toast and ladled thick golden honey over it.

She took it, ate it. "This is good too."

He leaned back, braced a booted foot against the bedside chair. "Now, as promised, your questions."

She had a million questions, but decided not to let him know she remembered nothing of who she was first thing out of her mouth. "H-how did I end up here?"

"I found you."

"Found me?"

"On my father's estate, up by the entrance gate, just inside. You were lying in a heap on the ground, unconscious."

"But how did I get there?"

He shrugged broad but graceful shoulders. "That I don't know. I was out riding. My horse drew up or he would have stepped on you."

"When was this?"

"A few days ago."

"Days!" She sat up straighter and the tray would have slid away if he hadn't caught it.

"I brought you here," he said, setting the tray on the nearby chair. "To this room. To this bed."

She remembered the gown she was wearing. And what she wasn't wearing under it. "Who dressed me?" She couldn't bring herself to ask "Who undressed me?"

"I did," he said.

Her face burned hot, and she wanted to hide under the thick covers. "Where are my clothes?"

"I burned them."

Her embarrassment turned to shock, then to anger. "You burned them! They might have held a clue about me."

"Your clothing was dirty and torn. I'll find something for you to wear."

"I don't want your clothes. I want mine. I want to go--" She halted. Go where?

He rose from the bed, bowed and gestured toward the door. "You may leave at any time. You're not a prisoner, just a lost girl I rescued from the cold and brought into my home."

Her anger fizzled. "I--I don't mean to be ungrateful. I know you've helped me. It's just that--that . . ." She couldn't finish.

He moved closer to the bed, lifted her chin. Once again, she found his touch cool, as if his hand had been in cold air. "I get that you're frightened. But now that you are here, you're my guest, and you're safe."



 


From the Hardcover edition.
Lurlene McDaniel

About Lurlene McDaniel

Lurlene McDaniel - Reaching Through Time: Three Novellas

Photo © Meghan Green and Jon Lancaster

“I write the kind of books I write because I want to help kids understand that nobody gets to pick what life dishes out to them. What you do get to choose is how you respond to what life gives you. No matter what happens, life is a gift. And always worth living.”—Lurlene McDaniel

Lurlene McDaniel is a recipient of the RITA Award and several of her works have received the IRA–CBC Children’s Choice Award.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Everyone loves a good cry, and no one delivers heartwrenching stories better than Lurlene McDaniel.

But there’s more to her books than that. McDaniel has written over 40 novels about kids who face life-threatening illnesses, who sometimes do not survive. These are powerful, inspirational stories about courage, love, and strength in the face of overwhelming trauma. McDaniel’s books touch the hearts and spirits of the teenagers and adults who read them. Her following is a devoted group of appreciative fans. McDaniel says: “These are books that challenge you and make you think.”

Some readers—and their parents—have wondered why McDaniel chooses to write about sad situations. “I tell them that sometimes tragedy hits people—kids, too. They want answers. They want to know ‘why.’ By using novels, I show ordinary kids confronting and overcoming great odds.” McDaniel’s books are ultimately optimistic and life-affirming. 

McDaniel began writing about young adults when her son Sean was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes at the age of 3. His illness changed the lives of everyone in her family forever. “I saw what life was like for someone who was chronically ill, and I experienced how it affected the dynamics of the family,” says McDaniel. She says she found that writing about the trauma and its effects was therapeutic.

To make certain that her books are medically accurate, McDaniel conducts extensive research. She interviews health care professionals and works with appropriate medical groups and hospice organizations, as well as the Tennessee Organ Donor Services. “I study medicine and traditional grief therapy techniques to give the novels a sense of serious medical reality,” she says. “I also study the Bible to instill the human element—the values and ethics often overlooked by the coldness of technology.”

Growing up, McDaniel lived in different parts of the country because her father was in the Navy. Eventually her family settled in Florida. She attended the University of South Florida in Tampa, where she earned a B.A. in English. She now lives in Chattanooga, Tennessee.

In addition to her popular YA novels, McDaniel has written radio and television scripts, promotional and advertising copy, and a magazine column. She is a frequent speaker at schools, writers’ conferences, and conventions.

McDaniel’s books have been named to several bestseller lists, including Publishers Weekly. Three of her novels were
selected by children as IRA–CBC Children’s Choices: Somewhere Between Life and Death, Too Young to Die, and Goodbye Doesn’t Mean Forever. Six Months to Live has been placed in a literary time capsule at the Library of Congress, to be opened in the year 2089.

The One Last Wish books focus on the interconnected stories of the residents and counselors of Jenny House—a group home for critically and terminally ill young girls. Through the kindness of a secret benefactor, each girl receives a cashier’s check for $100,000, to be used to make her last wish come true. Every One Last Wish novel is a compassionate story of triumph and inspiration that makes McDaniel’s dedicated fans come back for more.

McDaniel’s works include To Live Again, one of the Dawn Rochelle books; Angel of Mercy, the companion to Angel of Hope; and How Do I Love Thee, three stories about young couples who are inspired by Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s beautiful sonnet. In her novel, Telling Christina Goodbye, McDaniel shows that everything can change in the blink of an eye.


PRAISE

ANGELS WATCHING OVER ME
“An interesting blend of romance, mystery, and problem novel. The characters are captivating and sensitively drawn and the plot is fast paced.”—School Library Journal

DON’T DIE, MY LOVE
“Touching scenes abound in this crisis novel. . . . Fans of tear-jerker teen romances will enjoy this offering.”—Booklist

I’LL BE SEEING YOU
“A satisfying story for those who like to take their romance with tears and gutsy characters who know what it means to live beyond the pale of ‘normal.’ ”—School Library Journal

SAVING JESSICA
“Readers of McDaniel will enjoy; it’s good to read positive stories about teens.”—VOYA

SHE DIED TOO YOUNG
“McDaniel has a way of getting you to look at the complicated emotions experienced by YAs with major medical problems. . . . Another winner in her One Last Wish series.”—KLIATT

STARRY, STARRY NIGHT
“[The stories] are absorbing, the characters are well developed, and the author does not resolve the girls’ dilemmas with pat solutions. . . . This has solid YA appeal.”—School Library Journal

TOO YOUNG TO DIE and GOODBYE DOESN’T MEAN FOREVER
“These companion novels . . . cast the events of high school into a meaningful perspective and allow for convincing character development. McDaniel’s writing is light and well suited to this refreshing and involving story.”—Publishers Weekly

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