Timeless

by Thacker, Shelly

  They rounded a corner, the stallion’s muscles bunching and straining, and she could see two guards pushing a haycart into their path. She screamed again as the lunatic spurred his neighing mount onward. She felt the horse’s hooves leave the ground—and was suddenly looking down into the guards’ startled faces, then at the street rushing up to meet her.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable impact, but instead had the wind knocked out of her by the outlaw’s knees as they landed. He urged the horse on and they raced through the streets, scattering chickens and pigs from their path. They quickly reached the edge of town and sped across the open fields, a half dozen guards only an arrow’s flight behind.

  She heard the airy whoosh of a crossbow bolt, then another. The rider hunched down over the horse’s neck, covering her. Despite the protection of her mantle, she was all too aware of the heavy wall of his chest pressed against her back, the feeling of her breasts flattened against the muscles of his thigh. She gasped short, terrified breaths, watching flying hooves and meadow grass rush by several feet below. Lather from the horse’s shoulder flecked her gown.

  The arrows soon stopped. Laurien knew the guards were falling behind as the outlaw headed into the forest. He straightened as they left the path, charging through the trees. She could hear the guards crashing into the underbrush far away.

  She struggled to sit up. “Wait! Stop—”

  He stopped just long enough to right her so that she was sitting astride in front of him—then brought out a piece of cloth from his tunic and whipped it around her mouth as a gag. She had no chance to ask who on earth he was or demand that he release her. Helpless and mute, she could only hold on for sweet life as he spurred the stallion onward.

  They galloped faster through the woods. Branches whipped past, tearing at her veil and dress. The brigand wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, shielding her. He was so much bigger than her, the top of her head fit beneath his bearded chin. Surrounded by hard muscle and his male scent, she grew more frightened as they rode deeper into the wood. The gloom thickened around them, the sun only occasionally breaking through the branches overhead. What plans did this mad outlaw have for her?

  It flashed through her head that, for the first time since she had arrived in Chartres, she was free of de Villiers. But the idea only struck new fear into her heart as she pictured what he would find after several days searching the forest: her body, raped and bloodied, hidden beneath a tangle of underbrush.

  The trees became a blur and her eyes locked on the sword still in her abductor’s hand, the reddened blade resting across her knees. Though her mouth was bound, her mind screamed in a single, endless shriek as a cold wave of fear drenched her. She thought she would faint.

  But even in shock, her mind refused to sink into darkness. The outlaw kept changing directions, turning left, left again, right, then back along their own trail until she no longer heard the sounds of other horses. She wanted to close her eyes and waken alone in her chamber at the convent, to find that all of this had only been a nightmare.

  Instead, she was intensely aware of her captor’s every move as they galloped onward. She felt his powerful thighs easily guiding the charger. Felt the pounding of his heart against her back—or was that her own heart? He even filled her every breath as they raced through the forest, that unfamiliar, spicy maleness sending her senses reeling.

  Would there be much pain when he took her? Or would she finally lose consciousness? She had only begun to imagine what horrors possibly lay ahead, when the ride came to an end as suddenly as it had begun.

  He slowed the horse to a trot and gave an unusual whistle. A moment passed, then she heard an answering whistle rise eerily from the trees to their left. The stallion turned toward the sound. A few paces further on, her captor stopped, eased her to the ground, and moved off.

  She felt disoriented, breathless, could barely see in the gloom. Her trembling legs threatened to give way. She reached out to steady herself against a tree, but a rough hand took her own and a masculine voice rumbled from the shadows. “Och, seo ise duais.”

  Laurien knew several languages, but his words were utterly foreign to her. The speaker stepped forward and she found herself looking not at the outlaw, but at a second man, also garbed as a pilgrim. Older, with dark hair and a grizzled beard. The hint of a smile played about his lips as he looked at her. “Àlainn.” He glanced toward his companion. “Iadsan lean, companach?”

  She looked to her left and saw the fair-haired outlaw saddling a fresh mount. “Air chall iadsan ann craobh.”

  The older man reached toward her face. She started to back away, but he merely unwound the cloth that gagged her. She spat out a mouthful of damp fuzz and turned on the blond madman.

  “Who—What—Who are you?” she sputtered. Then she realized that these men, who were clearly not French, might not understand her. “My... family... will... pay,” she said, speaking each word loudly and slowly, pointing to her coin purse to explain her meaning, “a... ransom... for... my... safe... return.”

  She hoped that was true.

  Both men burst into laughter.

  “We speak your language, demoiselle,” the blond outlaw replied in lightly accented—and perfectly fluent—French, as he easily swung up on his new horse. “And ’tis not money we want.”

  “Our apologies, milady.” The older man also mounted a fresh stallion. “But there is no time for formal introductions. My friend here tells me he lost our pursuers for the moment, but we had best not linger. I am Sir Malcolm MacLennan. And this rogue”—he indicated his friend with a nod—“is Sir Connor of Glenshiel.”

  “Of Scotland,” the rogue in question explained, giving her a half bow as he rode toward her. “And as for you, Lady Laurien d’Amboise...” He reached down with one burly arm to lift her onto his saddle again. “For the next fortnight, you are mine.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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  Bonus Content:

  “The Making of TIMELESS: The Story Behind the Story”

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  SPOILER ALERT

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  Dear Reader,

  I always love those “Behind the Scenes” bonus features on DVDs. I enjoy learning what inspired the stories, characters, and settings of my favorite movies. I love getting a peek at how the costumes were made, how the sets were built, and what changes were made in the editing room. When I first set out on this digital publishing adventure, I knew I wanted to include a “Behind the Scenes” bonus feature in each of my ebooks.

  But I realize that some people dislike “Behind the Scenes” features. For them, hearing the nuts-and-bolts of the creative process ruins their enjoyment of the story. I don’t want to ruin anyone’s enjoyment of my books, so if you’re someone who typically skips “Making of” features on DVDs, it’s probably best to skip this section.

  Also, if you haven’t finished the whole book yet, you’ll want to finish before returning to this page. I’m about to give you an inside peek at the creative decisions that went into writing this story—so plot twists may be revealed and characters’ secrets spilled. (There are no spoilers for other books in this series, in case you haven’t read them all yet.)

  So... if you’ve skipped ahead to this feature, please click back and finish the book. I totally understand the skipping-ahead impulse, because I’m a chronic skipper-aheader myself. But really, now is the best time to skip back. Before you see any spoilers.

  When you’re all done, return to this page. I’ll be waiting right here for you.

  Ready? Here we go.

  Inspirations

  It’s the #1 question readers ask novelists: “Where do you get your ideas?” I wish I had an intriguing, exotic answer, but the truth is: anywhere and everywhere. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have scenes and characters and d
ialogue dancing around in my head. From the time I was old enough to hold a pencil, I’ve had notebooks and scraps of paper filled with ideas for stories.

  The original idea for Timeless popped up while I was researching an earlier book, my swashbuckling romance Silver & Sapphires. While studying eighteenth-century seafaring, I kept coming across descriptions of explorers who were obsessed with finding the fountain of youth. The search for a magical spring that would bestow eternal health and life had tantalized mankind since the time of the Ancient Greeks. But no explorer ever located it. The “waters of life” remained a legend, a myth.

  Which made me wonder, what if the fountain of youth really existed? What if they just missed it because they were looking in the wrong place?

  Four years later, that question, jotted on a scrap of paper, became the first spark of Timeless. Another spark came from the hit TV series “Highlander,” about an immortal named Duncan MacLeod who lives secretly among mortals in modern-day Europe and America.

  I loved the idea of exploring the problems faced by immortals living in the mortal world. But that subject has been covered thoroughly by other authors and screenwriters. If I was going to write about immortals, I knew I had to give my story a fresh twist.

  In my novel, immortality would be conferred not by a gene or a germ or by blood, but by a place. An island. A remote island where the fountain of youth really existed. And this gift of eternal health and life would carry a price: remain on the island, and you might live forever—but if you leave, you die.

  Then I added another complication: the inhabitants of the island don’t know exactly what it is that makes them immortal.

  Now I had a story that intrigued me, and I began building my fantasy world. Instead of setting my book during the Age of Exploration, when the search for the fountain of youth was at its zenith, I moved it back to the Middle Ages. Instead of Spanish or Dutch or English explorers, my islanders would be Vikings. That allowed me to pair my immortal hero with a favorite character from one of my earlier books: Lady Avril de Varennes, the feisty young widow who vowed in Forever His that she would never love again.

  I wrote up the proposal for Timeless and sent it to my agent in October 1995. She absolutely loved it, and submitted it to my editor at Avon Books.

  Who absolutely hated it.

  This particular editor (who shall remain nameless) had strong opinions about what a romance novel “should” and “shouldn’t” be—and Timeless fell solidly into her “shouldn’t” category. She had no interest in buying a book that blended the fantasy and romance genres. She considered it too risky because “no one else has published anything like this” and “there’s just no market for paranormal romance.” She explained that my proposal reminded her of “a vampire book without the teeth and blood”—and there was nothing she hated more than vampire books.

  I can only imagine how that poor editor has suffered in the years since, forced to grit her teeth as vampires rose up to completely take over the publishing industry. I can just imagine her telling her authors, “This would sell better if you made it a paranormal. Can you put a vampire in it?”

  But I digress. Back in 1995, she refused to let me write Timeless unless I completely removed the paranormal element. Avon, she said, was not looking to be an innovator. She instructed me to turn my book into a “regular” historical romance, a kidnapping story with no hint of fantasy. She was one of the most powerful editors in New York at the time, and she fully expected me to comply.

  I refused. Partly because I had already written the book she was describing (Falcon on the Wind) and I don’t like to repeat myself. More important, the paranormal element is the heart of Timeless. I wasn’t about to just yank it out.

  Instead, my agent withdrew the proposal and I wrote His Forbidden Touch—a “regular” historical romance with no hint of fantasy—to placate my editor and finish out my Avon contract.

  Then my agent sold Timeless to Dell for more money than I had ever made in my career.

  Even with that contract in hand, I didn’t feel particularly triumphant as I left Avon. After three years of being pummeled by an editor who hated my work, ignored by the marketing department, and generally treated with all the consideration one would show a potted plant, my self-esteem and confidence in my writing were at an all-time low.

  In my first phone conversation with my new Dell editor, Laura Cifelli, I tentatively asked if she was at all worried about the fact that Timeless was a paranormal romance.

  “Shelly,” she said, laughing, “you could write your grocery list on a paper bag and I would buy it.”

  It had been so long since I’d heard praise from an editor, I’d almost forgotten what it sounded like. Laura, a former literary agent, had been a fan of my work for years. She actually liked the fact that I took risks. She encouraged me to stay true to my voice and be as innovative as I wanted to be.

  This new ebook edition of Timeless is dedicated to her. Every author, at least once in her career, deserves an editor who truly loves her books. Laura was mine.

  For the first time in years, I felt happy about my career and hopeful for the future. Not only did I have Laura in my corner, I also had the support of Dell Executive Editor Marjorie Braman, who had been my editor in my early days at Avon. I was in the best, most secure position an author could possibly enjoy, with two editors enthusiastically supporting my work.

  Best of all, Dell was rolling out the red carpet for Timeless: it would have a lead-title position, an expensive step-back cover, an ambitious print run, and the full promotional support of Dell’s marketing team.

  After so many disappointments at Avon, my career had taken a turn for the better. This was the big break I had been hoping for. The brass ring was finally within my reach.

  I was looking forward to a long and successful future as a Dell author.

  Soundtrack

  Readers of previous “Behind the Scenes” features know that I always pick a love theme for my hero and heroine when starting a book. It’s one of my little creative rituals and helps me tune in to the characters and their story. For Hauk and Avril, I chose “Hands to Heaven,” the 1988 hit by the band Breathe. It’s a bittersweet song about a couple who need each other and long to stay together, but realize they have to separate.

  While writing the original manuscript, I listened to a lot of impressionistic and water-themed music to inspire the landscape of Asgard Island, including Debussy’s “La Mer” and “Prélude a l’après-midi d’un faun,” and Vangelis’s “Oceanic”—especially the tracks “Islands of the Orient” and “Song of the Seas.”

  In 2012, when I started work on this new ebook edition, I discovered two indie albums that perfectly evoke the ethereal world of Asgard: “Drift” by Tania Rose and “Vibrant Water” by Thom Brennan. Both are available at Amazon (“Drift” is just 99 cents as I write this) and they’re well worth a download. I played them on a continuous loop while rewriting Timeless.

  The Title

  Back when I wrote for New York, I had some epic battles over book titles. So I was pleasantly surprised that Dell never asked me to change the title of Timeless. For only the second time in my entire career (the first being Midnight Raider), I was allowed to keep my original title.

  Ironically, while preparing this new ebook edition, I almost changed the title myself, after I found about a zillion books titled Timeless on Amazon. But in the end, I just didn’t have the heart to let it go. I added a sub-title, The Asgard Warriors, to help distinguish my Timeless from all the others.

  The Cover

  You’ll find full-color photos of the original paperback cover (both versions) and the new digital cover on my Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorShellyThacker

  When I signed with Dell in 1997, editor Laura Cifelli asked to see my “wish list” of perks that I had always wanted but never received at Avon. I was a little cynical about it, figuring my list would end up in the shredder, since that was how Avon had always handled my
requests. But I had nothing to lose, so I decided to shoot for the moon. I included on my wish list the name of a particular cover artist I had always admired—a major name that Avon had considered too expensive for the likes of me.

  To my surprise and joy, Laura hired him to do the cover of Timeless. She didn’t promise to try, didn’t explain why it would be difficult, didn’t talk about it at all. She just went out and did it. I was simply stunned. It was beginning to sink in that what I wanted actually mattered to the Dell team.

  They gave Timeless a “step-back” cover, a process that involves creating an inside cover with an illustration of the characters, and a flashier outside cover with the author’s name and title in big foil letters.

  The original Timeless step-back has Hauk on the inside—painted by my favorite artist—and a storm-tossed Viking ship on the outside, in shades of dark blue with red foil lettering. That cover appeared on all the bookseller websites, on the advance-review galleys, and in my promotional materials. However, it ended up being scrapped just before Timeless was published.

  After the regime change (details below), Dell completely re-designed the front cover, tossing out the blue-and-red version and switching to a bright orange one with silver and gold foil. It’s extremely expensive for a publisher to change a cover at the last minute, but the new team in charge felt that the brighter color would sell better. I liked the original cover just fine, and I had doubts about putting an orange cover on a Viking romance—but the new team in charge wasn’t asking for my opinions.

  The blue cover still shows up on websites here and there, but it never actually appeared on any copies of the book sold in stores.

  For this new ebook edition, I wanted to capture both the fantasy and the romance elements of Timeless. I love what artist Kim Killion created. It perfectly evokes the Claiming voyage and my strong, stubborn Viking hero.