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Excerpt from:
Ring Around the Moon
A Paranormal Time Travel Romance
by Anita Birt
Startled awake, not sure where she was or what she’d been dreaming, Beth rubbed sleep from her eyes.
“Elizabeth, my love.”
The man stood at the gate, his hand on the latch. He opened the gate and entered the garden.
Fear jolted Beth awake. She grabbed the poker, jumped up and pointed it at him. “Don’t you come any closer. I’m calling the police.”
She yanked the phone from her pocket and punched in 9-1-1. Nothing.
Panicky, her heart racing, she tried again.
Ring, dammit!
He stopped in his tracks. “What troubles you, Elizabeth? I mean you no harm.”
Beth kept her eyes fixed on him and walked stiff-legged to the porch. Daylight made her brave. She tensed her arm ready to throw the poker at him if he came a step closer.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
“Do you not know me?”
“Know you?” Beth shook her head. Although slightly disheveled, with a few days growth of beard he had the aristocratic good looks of a Jane Austen hero, the movie variety. She’d have remembered him all right but his face and his English accent didn’t ring any memory bells.
“I never thought to see you again, Elizabeth.”
Beth frowned. “I don’t know who you are or why you keep calling me, Elizabeth. I want you to go away and leave me alone.”
“Will you speak with me if I stay where I am?”
Safe inside the porch and close to the door, Beth nodded. There was something oddly appealing about him. He looked more tired than evil.
“Okay, tell me what you’re doing here, and don’t try anything funny. You scared me half to death last night.”
“Forgive me, my dear. Coming upon you was a shock. You fainted and I carried you into the cottage and put you to bed.”
His smile would have melted a heart of stone. Beth’s heart remained icily intact. “You put me to bed?” That was the last thing she expected to hear. She leaned against the door to steady her shaky knees.
“That I did and kissed you goodnight.”
She stuck the cell phone in her pocket, planted her hand firmly on her hip and glared at him. She no longer feared the stranger and was angry enough to spit nails.
“What gave you the right to kiss me? You came sneaking around in the dark. You made me faint. When I was unconscious you took advantage of me. That’s sexual harassment where I come from. I could press charges.”
“Why do you accuse me of harassment? It has been weeks since I held you in my arms. I could not resist. You have changed so little, except for your hair. You have cut it short, and your manner of speaking is not as I remember.”
His gaze swept over her. “Your clothing is most peculiar. You should not bare your legs in public. What were you thinking to appear outdoors in such disarray? Has your maid lost her wits? I saw no sign of her last night. Surely you are not staying here without servants.”
He rubbed his temples and thrust his fingers through his black hair. “My head is aching and I find it difficult to think clearly. My world has gone awry. Who built this cottage on my land without my permission? Mere days ago all that remained of our home was smoldering ruins.”
He paused. “I cannot speak of it.”
The man was insane, an escapee from a psychiatric hospital. Beth wasn’t going to argue with him about her unseemly clothes. He might be dangerous. Why did he think he knew her, and why did he call her Elizabeth?
“Who are you?” she asked in a firm voice.
He frowned and moved towards her, then stopped. “Alan Tremaine and you are my Elizabeth. How can you not remember me?
“Tremaine?” Beth almost choked on the word. The egg lady had mentioned the name. She felt behind her for the doorknob ready for a hasty retreat if he came closer.
“Alan James Tremaine. You and I were married in our village church on an August day much like this one.”
“Married?” Beth stammered. He was definitely a nut case. If he threatened her she’d press zero on the phone and get help that way, but he was keeping his distance. Maybe she could talk him into leaving and then call the police.
A look of intense sadness crossed his face. “I never thought to see you again and you have forgotten me.”
Although he wasn’t making sense, his melancholy voice thawed some of the ice in Beth’s heart. “How can I be your Elizabeth? I don’t know you.”
She beckoned him to come closer. If he saw her clearly, he’d realize his mistake, apologize and leave.
As he approached, Beth felt the tiny flicker of life in her womb. Her baby! She dropped the poker and instinctively rested her hand on her stomach.
“Our babe knows me.” Alan Tremaine smiled, all trace of sadness gone from his face.
Beth thought she might faint again. Either she was crazy or they both were or she was dreaming and last night had never happened. Weak at the knees she staggered over to the bench and sat down hoping to wake up in the sunshine. Alone
“Are you feeling ill, my love?” He sat beside her and clasped her hand.
“I’m fine.” She didn’t feel fine at all, she felt weird. Strung out. His world had gone awry. Hers had gone haywire. How did he know she was pregnant? Not with his child for sure.
She turned towards him and gazed into his black-lashed dark brown eyes. She didn’t know him, had never seen him until last night yet felt compelled to hear him out. She racked her brain trying to figure him out.
Had she met him in the past and forgotten? No way. She would have remembered Alan Tremaine and his English accent. He had a powerful presence, not threatening, just a great looking guy who’d slipped a few gears. With his mane of black shoulder-length hair, high cheekbones, square jaw and straight nose, he had the smoldering good looks of a cover model. Rakish.
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