Biologist Arlo Perez has spent his whole life avoiding decisions, confrontations, anything concrete. Anything resembling a commitment. When his lover, Miguel, dumps him, a depressed Arlo decides to put down roots in Merced, a small California town nestled between Yosemite and the old gold-panning country region. There, he secures a new fellowship at a college and looks forward to adventure and fun.
But just as he’s getting used to normal, he gets a whole lot more than he bargained for.
One day when his car breaks down, Arlo winds up at the mercy of a deranged garage owner in Port Hueneme. And somehow, he finds himself tossed back in time to an era of knights, dragons, and pit fights. Suddenly, he’s in Mexico, 1867, and there’s only one way out—fight or die.
Can Arlo get himself out of this horrible and confusing mess? Can he stop feeling out of place and out of his senses? Or is he completely out of time?
But just as he’s getting used to normal, he gets a whole lot more than he bargained for.
One day when his car breaks down, Arlo winds up at the mercy of a deranged garage owner in Port Hueneme. And somehow, he finds himself tossed back in time to an era of knights, dragons, and pit fights. Suddenly, he’s in Mexico, 1867, and there’s only one way out—fight or die.
Can Arlo get himself out of this horrible and confusing mess? Can he stop feeling out of place and out of his senses? Or is he completely out of time?
Genres: Gay/Fantasy/Time Travel/Paranormal/Action/Adventure
Heat Level: 3
Length: Novella (20k words)
Length: Novella (20k words)
Read a short excerpt...
...Ron looked at me. “You got away from me last time.” He wagged a finger in my face.
“What?” I repeated. Jeez, Louise, it seemed the only word in my vocabulary. “What are you talking about?”
“The knight battles,” Ron said. “Are you really this dumb?”
“Are you kidding? Knights? What kind of knights?”
“Come on, Arturo, modesty does not become you.” The garage owner flicked a hateful gaze over me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Look. I know I owe you money and I forgot to send you the pink slip, but my name is not Arturo.”
Ron gave me a nasty laugh. “I sold that car, Arturo. And it really was a lemon.” He shook his head. “But the chick that bought it likes it, so she’s got me working on it.”
“But you don’t have the pink slip and my name’s not Arturo.” Why wouldn’t he listen to me?
“Yeah. Right.” He arched a brow at me. “All it took was a bill of sale and a forged signature and the vehicle’s all mine. Now get in the arena, you stupid ass.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
The two guys beside me grabbed my arms and began to drag me.
“Josie!” I screamed, but when I turned, she was getting back into the Daimler. She didn’t look at me as Graham peeled away with a squeal of tires before she’d even closed the door.
Holy shit.
The two men I’d been sitting with dragged me into what looked like a barn. They gave me a mighty shove and I fell flat on my face in the weirdest smelling mud I’d ever come across.
Pain radiated down my neck and arms. My body sagged in the mire. I worked hard to lift my face and, when I looked up, I blinked, and blinked some more. Blinded by the thick, soupy, foul mud I couldn’t believe what was coming for me, as in right at me.
Lots and lots of dragons.
Fire-breathing dragons.
And there was Miguel walking through the middle of them, dragging his left leg behind him. He was covered in blood and seemed half-dead.
What the hell was he doing? He was a writer. He had enough trouble working up the enthusiasm to go to the gym let alone fight.
A roar went up and I realized there was a huge crowd of people. The dragons’ heads went up and fire shot into the sky. The sudden burst of heat made my eyes burn and my skin twitch with discomfort.
“Miguel,” I whispered.
He looked at me, myriad emotions flickering across his face, and he fell down in a heap at my feet.
The two men hauled me into the center of an arena. I blinked, and swallowed, and wanted to cry. One crumpled man in chain mail lay huddled against a fence. There was blood in the dirt and a roar went up in the crowd. I freaked out when the biggest man I’d ever seen in the scariest-looking chain mail lifted a massive sword and said, “I want you to stop me...”
“What?” I repeated. Jeez, Louise, it seemed the only word in my vocabulary. “What are you talking about?”
“The knight battles,” Ron said. “Are you really this dumb?”
“Are you kidding? Knights? What kind of knights?”
“Come on, Arturo, modesty does not become you.” The garage owner flicked a hateful gaze over me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Look. I know I owe you money and I forgot to send you the pink slip, but my name is not Arturo.”
Ron gave me a nasty laugh. “I sold that car, Arturo. And it really was a lemon.” He shook his head. “But the chick that bought it likes it, so she’s got me working on it.”
“But you don’t have the pink slip and my name’s not Arturo.” Why wouldn’t he listen to me?
“Yeah. Right.” He arched a brow at me. “All it took was a bill of sale and a forged signature and the vehicle’s all mine. Now get in the arena, you stupid ass.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
The two guys beside me grabbed my arms and began to drag me.
“Josie!” I screamed, but when I turned, she was getting back into the Daimler. She didn’t look at me as Graham peeled away with a squeal of tires before she’d even closed the door.
Holy shit.
The two men I’d been sitting with dragged me into what looked like a barn. They gave me a mighty shove and I fell flat on my face in the weirdest smelling mud I’d ever come across.
Pain radiated down my neck and arms. My body sagged in the mire. I worked hard to lift my face and, when I looked up, I blinked, and blinked some more. Blinded by the thick, soupy, foul mud I couldn’t believe what was coming for me, as in right at me.
Lots and lots of dragons.
Fire-breathing dragons.
And there was Miguel walking through the middle of them, dragging his left leg behind him. He was covered in blood and seemed half-dead.
What the hell was he doing? He was a writer. He had enough trouble working up the enthusiasm to go to the gym let alone fight.
A roar went up and I realized there was a huge crowd of people. The dragons’ heads went up and fire shot into the sky. The sudden burst of heat made my eyes burn and my skin twitch with discomfort.
“Miguel,” I whispered.
He looked at me, myriad emotions flickering across his face, and he fell down in a heap at my feet.
The two men hauled me into the center of an arena. I blinked, and swallowed, and wanted to cry. One crumpled man in chain mail lay huddled against a fence. There was blood in the dirt and a roar went up in the crowd. I freaked out when the biggest man I’d ever seen in the scariest-looking chain mail lifted a massive sword and said, “I want you to stop me...”
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