Thanks so much for hosting me today, Delilah. I look forward to spending time with you and your followers.
I’d like to chat today about time travel and history.
As a reader, what part of our past fascinates you the most? If you could travel back in time where would you go and what would you want to see?
The piece of history that has always held me enthrall is the Alamo. Approximately two hundred men held the fort for thirteen days against an army of fifteen hundred. Their actions, and subsequent deaths, rallied the rest of Texas.
I really wanted to write a saga centered on the Alamo but my muse balked. So we compromised. My story revolves around the battle of San Jacinto and Sam Houston. And a woman who traveled back in time, captured history in her paintings, and found her lost love in the process.
He came through time to find her.
As Sarah Miles drives down Eighteenth Street a stranger materializes in front of her car. She throws on her brakes, braces for impact and…drives straight through him. For a brief moment, his voice echoes in her head, “Saura.” Then he’s gone. Later that day, she discovers the SUNDIAL and her incredible journey through time begins.
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A purple haze of gunpowder hung in the air that filled her nose and mouth with the acrid smell and taste of sulfur. Her eyes watered and burned.
A sharp burst of gunfire sounded nearby. Fifes and a drum played a tune she didn’t recognize. Cries of, “Remember the Alamo. Remember Goliad,” echoed through the air, overriding screams of agony.
Oh, my God! She clutched Monet and stumbled to her feet. The Alamo? Goliad? Screams too real to be an enactment lifted the hair on the back of her neck. Goosebumps roughened her skin.
In front of her, over a thousand men were doing their best to kill each other.
They wore clothes from another era. Some were dressed in nondescript gray denim; some in white roundabout jackets and pantaloons; some in brown jackets and pants; all carried rifles, clubs, knives and tomahawks and all were bent on slaughtering men dressed in blue uniforms and shako hats.
A cannon blast rumbled. The ground shook.
Where am I? In the back of her mind, a fear too unbelievable to acknowledge grew. Along with terror, a growing sense of urgency bubbled in her like a volcano ready to erupt.
She edged closer to the battlefield and scanned faces for the beloved features of her lover. She’d lost him once—no, twice. She couldn’t lose him again.
About the Author
Sandra writes YA Fantasy, Romance, and Metaphysical Nonfiction. She lives in sunny North Carolina with her husband, a brood of critters and an occasional foster cat. The last animal member of the family, a kitten, came hurtling out of the woods in southern Illinois to land at her feet. He made the trek back to North Carolina and wasted no time settling into the household.
Although shopping is high on the list, her greatest pleasure is sitting on her porch, listening to the birds, sipping coffee or a latte and enjoying a good book. She’s a vegetarian and a Muay Thai enthusiast.