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Gwyn Cready | What Inspires My Time Travel Love
Uncategorized / March 29, 2010

Hi, everyone. Thanks for having me here to blog today. I’ve also been getting a lot of questions about what inspires me about time travel as well as the painter aspects of my new release, Flirting with Forever, so I thought I take some time to address both those things, and if you hang on until the end, I’ll have some news about a pretty nice contest. One hint ladies: shoes. First, time travel. My friend theorizes I am a time traveler, that I leave this world when I sleep to visit another time, which is why certain times (late 17th/early 18th centuries) appeal to me more than others. Could be true. My mind is open to such possibilities, but personally I think Jamie Fraser made such an impression on me I couldn’t let go : ) All I can tell you is I’ve always been fascinated with the interesting possibilities and conflict that time travel sets up in a story. Back to the Future is sort of like the basic textbook on that for me. I guess I watched it at an impressionable age, but there you have it. In fact, I was just at a lecture this week…

Fresh Pick | THE ROSE OF SEBASTOPOL by Katharine McMahon
Fresh Pick / March 29, 2010

February 2010On Sale: February 2, 2010Featuring: Rosa Barr416 pages ISBN: 0425232220EAN: 9780425232224Trade Size$15.00 Historical Buy at The Rose Of Sebastopolby Katharine McMahon The #1 international bestseller about love, war and betrayal from the author of The Alchemist’s Daughter In 1854, adventurous Rosa Barr travels to the Crimean battlefield with Florence Nightingale’s nursing corps. For Mariella Lingwood, Rosa’s cousin, the war is contained within the letters she receives from her fiancé, Henry, a celebrated surgeon who also has volunteered to work in the shadow of the guns. When Henry falls ill, Mariella impulsively takes an epic journey to the ravaged landscape of the Crimea and the tragic city of Sebastopol. What she finds there, as her world beings to crumble, is that she has much to learn about secrecy, faithfulness, and love… Excerpt Italy, 1855 We arrived in Narni late on a Sunday evening. Although the door to the Hotel Fina was locked the driver roused a servant who stumbled out with creased shirt tails, brought in our luggage and showed us to a bedroom that smelled of unwashed feet. Nora took away my cloak and bonnet, then I snuffed the candles and lay down. A man was shouting in…