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What happens when a woman from the high-tec Twenty-First Century (2250) is unexpectedly timeported to northern Minnesota (circa 1700) into an Ojibwe Indian village? She is impulsive, talkative, and sometimes speaks before she thinks.
What happens when an Ojibwe man finds an exotic, blond-haired woman, shivering under a tree, who is irritable and, in his opinion, not at all well trained? He is quiet, thoughtful, and considers carefully before taking action.
Through All Time tells the story of how Rylla Sheridan and Soaring Hawk fall in love, heal past hurts, and find each other.
It was a perfect summer day. The sun was shining in the blue canopy of sky. A gentle breeze ruffled the surface of Ricing Lake and the water sparkled as if it had trapped the Star People in its depths.
Soaring Hawk let the canoe glide to a stop some distance from the shore.]
Rylla took a grip on the paddle as if she were about to wring the life out of a snake and dug it into the water. The next thing Soaring Hawk knew, water showered over him, the drops chilled points on his sun-heated skin.
"You'd better show her how to hold a paddle, Soaring Hawk." Running Bear's deep voice floated over the water.
Soaring Hawk looked over his shoulder. Everyone had gathered along the water's edge. He groaned and gritted his teeth. There was no escaping now. He and Rylla would be entertaining the whole village.
"You must hold the paddle correctly--like this." Rylla looked over her shoulder, and Soaring Hawk demonstrated, placing his right hand over the slightly wider top and wrapping the fingers of his left hand around the shank of the paddle.
He watched as she corrected her grip.
"That looks good," encouraged Crow Wing from the shore. Soaring Hawk could hear the grin in his voice but ignored him, stoically refusing to show any annoyance.
Grasping the paddle correctly now, Rylla dug into the water again. By the way she leaned into it, he could tell she was seething. She made several deep strokes. The canoe immediately swung to the left, turning until it pointed back toward shore.
"You'd better tell her she can't make a Circle with one canoe all by herself."
"Soaring Hawk, you'd better steer that thing."
"That's what you're sitting in back for."
Soaring Hawk tightened his lips, unwilling to respond to these helpful suggestions from the audience lining the shore. He steadfastly ignored Rylla's shoulders, shaking in silent mirth in front of him. With a couple of strokes, he aimed them back toward the middle. Now he would not have to look at his tormentors.
"Slide the blade into the water, then twist it and pull straight back. Watch me."
Rylla turned on her seat, a smile still curving her lips and lingering in her eyes, and watched as he made several strokes. Turning back, she copied his movements, and they moved forward in a reasonably straight line. Perhaps there is hope she can learn after all.
"That's right," Running Bear encouraged from the shore.
With each stroke, Rylla became more adept. Without warning, on the next stroke, the paddle slipped out of her hand.
"Don't reach . . ."
He never finished the sentence. One moment he was sitting in the canoe and the next he was in the water, thrashing his way to the top, blowing the water from his nose and mouth. He broke the surface, tossing his wet hair out of his face, looking for Rylla. Terror clawed at his throat for a moment. He had never thought to ask her if she could swim.
He expelled his pent-up breath in relief when he saw her pop up not far away, sputtering and shaking her head. With a few powerful strokes, he was beside her, reaching for her, grasping one arm to make sure she stayed afloat.
"Are you all right?" Fear had turned his voice rusty.
"I'm fine," Rylla sputtered through the water cascading down her face. She peered through her hair, plastered to her forehead. "What happened?"
"You tipped the canoe over." Soaring Hawk still held on to her as they treaded water, unwilling to risk letting her go yet.
"I don't know how it happened." Rylla looked at him and, for a moment, Soaring Hawk drowned in her eyes.
"You better get that canoe, Soaring Hawk," came another suggestion from the shore.
As far back as Judi can remember, she's had stories playing in her head. When she was little, she acted them out. And when she wasn't acting out stories, or telling them to herself, she was reading someone else's. The summer Judi turned 12, when she had read every Nancy Drew she owned at least twice, and was nagging her mother to drive her to the library, her mother dug out one of her romance novels and Judi was hooked!
Growing up in a small town in Maine, although Judi did some writing in school, it was never a focus in class. Later, as a legal secretary in the days of manual typewriters, she never considered a writing career. She knew too well how much work was involved in drafting, editing and retyping legal documents. She was much too lazy to consider tackling a book.
And then that wonderful invention arrived. The computer. With that lovely cut and paste feature. Within a year of learning word processing on the job, Judi had her own computer for the express purpose of writing the next best seller. That manuscript happily keeps the dust bunnies company under her bed. However, it's where she honed her craft and began to learn what it takes to tell a story on paper.
"... an excellent love story, one you will thoroughly enjoy!" - Deborah Brent/Romantic Times
This manuscript has finaled in several regional contests and won in three: (1) Third Place in 1996 Fiction From the Heartland contest sponsored by Mid America Romance Authors; (2) Third Place in 1995 Hot Stuff contest sponsored by Romance Authors of the Heartland; and (3) Fifth Place in 1995 Great Confrontations contest sponsored by Lake County Romance Writers.
Book Publisher: Wings ePress
No. of Pages: 290
Paper Weight (lb): 12.2