Out of Time Trilogy Box Set

By Jeffery Martin Botzenhart

Until the end of time...and then beyond...

Would it be a crime against nature to help those in need by the use of unusual and possibly illegal medical procedures? Victoria begs her father, a brilliant physician, to commit such a crime for the man who she has forever fallen in love with. Trevor was critically injured by enemy artillery while fighting on the Western Front. Victoria hopes that through the restoration of his damaged body, their love will flourish once he is well again.

Unforeseeable revelations and unimaginable confrontations create havoc for the lovers. Will Victoria and Trevor find a place where their love will last for eternity...or has time run out?

PUBLISHER NOTE: Out of Time Trilogy Box Set, contains Clockwork Heart, A Flaw in the Mechanism, and A Bequest of Time. 54,072 words complete.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luminosity Publishing LLP
• Release date: Feb 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370702879

Jeffery Martin Botzenhart

I was born on November 9, 1967 in Warren, Ohio and grew up in a country trailer park in Southington Ohio with my two brothers and parents.I currently live in Girard, Ohio with my wife and sons. After graduating from Chalker High School in 1986, I went on to attend Kent State University.Originally, I sought to pursue a degree in education, but changed degrees after a few years in school. After working my way through college for eight years, I graduated in 1994 with a Bachelor’s degree in International Relations.Aside from writing, I also draw and paint. My other passion is soccer. I have proudly been a coach of a soccer team for autistic and special needs players.

Book preview

OUT OF TIME

TRILOGY BOX SET

Jeffery Martin Botzenhart

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Clockwork Heart - Cover

Clockwork Heart - Description

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

A Flaw in the Mechanism - Cover

A Flaw in the Mechanism - Description

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

A Bequest of Time - Cover

A Bequest of Time - Description

Dedication

Remembrance

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Author Biography

End Credits

LUMINOSITY PUBLISHING LLP

Out of Time

Trilogy Box Set

Copyright © January 2017 Jeffery Martin Botzenhart

Cover Art by Poppy Designs

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this literary work may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

CLOCKWORK HEART

Out of Time 1

Until the end of time … and then beyond…

Would it be a crime against nature to help those in need by the use of unusual and possibly illegal medical procedures? Victoria begs her father, a brilliant physician, to commit such a crime for the man who she has forever fallen in love with. Trevor was critically injured by enemy artillery while fighting on the Western Front. Victoria hopes that through the restoration of his damaged body, their love will flourish once he is well again.

Unforeseeable revelations and unimaginable confrontations create havoc for the lovers. Will Victoria and Trevor find a place where their love will last for eternity … or has time run out?

Dedication

For my greatest cast of characters, my wife, Julie, and our sons Dylan, Owen, and Ethan.

Dream Big and then dream bigger.

For my brother, John

Thank you for your love and support

Chapter One

10:05 p.m. – October 15, 1904

Ophelia, come back, Victoria happily called out as she ran in pursuit of her friend. Through one darkened room after the next, the sound of her shoes echoed off the hardwood floors. Only the drone-like ticking from the grandfather clock’s pendulum and the tapping of bare tree branches striking against the windowpanes offered any other sounds within the grand old house.

Victoria entered a formal sitting room where she stopped before the fireplace. For a moment, she gazed at the embers which seemed as if they were fireflies that had found an escape from the small inferno. Hung above the mantle was a portrait of her late mother. How regal her image looked there upon the canvas. The artist had truly captured the beautiful expression upon her face and the subtle highlights in her long brown hair. The red of her lips matched the red of her gown to perfection. Victoria blew a kiss to her mother’s image before returning to her pursuit.

She quietly eased around the twin velvety blue sofas and sitting chairs as her pursuit altered to hide-and-go-seek. Behind blue floral-patterned curtains, she searched yet found no traces of Ophelia. She continued her search through the dining room and then into the kitchen before making her way to her father’s study.

Through the partially open door Victoria tiptoed inside. Always noticeable were the fragrances of tobacco with a hint of cherry essence and leather when she would enter this room. Victoria was not surprised to see that her father was not sitting at his desk. Most of his time was spent within his laboratory. At times, he would attempt to explain to her the importance of the endless hours of medical writings and design work which he immersed himself with. She always found him consumed with this or that at his desk. Yet he always would immediately stop working whenever she found the need for his attention—his devotion to her triumphed over all else.

After one final search for Ophelia, Victoria then walked over to a closed door at the opposite side of her father’s study. A draft of cool air greeted her as she made her way through a dark hallway and then down a much darker staircase. Without knocking, Victoria entered her father’s laboratory and began to explore this wondrous chamber.

The room, with its stone walls and massive fireplace, was well lit despite having no windows. A subtle fragrance of formaldehyde lingered within the sterile air that was slightly tainted with the aroma of hickory wood from the fireplace. Medical and scientific journals littered a large mahogany table at the room’s center. An anatomy textbook was open to a page showing a detailed illustration of the human heart. Within one of the room’s corners hung a model of the human skeleton. Sitting at a desk in the opposite corner was her father. His wavy dark brown hair was corrupted by a tinge of grey. Tall and slender, he was hunched over as he looked through a magnifying glass as if daring to hide a secret. Within his hand, he held a special tool of his own design. Curiosity pulled her to his side.

Hello, my darling, he said as he drew his attention away from his work. A laugh escaped from her as his magnifying spectacles, perched low upon his nose, offered absurdity through his smiling expression. What brings you to my side?

Oh … I was just chasing my imaginary friend, Ophelia.

A chuckle burst from her father before he asked, And did you capture your imaginary friend?

I imagine that I did, Victoria wryly responded, sending her father to chuckle. May I ask what it is you are working on? Her father pulled his ten-year-old daughter onto his lap as he revealed his work to her. Oh, father, it is absolutely beautiful, she responded.

There upon his desk was a small pendant in the shape of a heart. Red in color, its smooth surface held the lustrous reflection of light from the table lamp. The face within the clock was pure white in color with Roman numerals of ebony marking the hours. Lying upon the desk next to the heart-shaped clock was a breathtaking strand of luminous pearls and a shiny silver clasp.

"Is this for me?" Victoria asked as she rested her head against her father’s shoulder.

Yes, my darling. However … it is not yet complete. There is much more work to be done until it is perfect, he responded as he rested his chin upon her head.

A small clock upon the mantle began to chime the hour of ten. Good heavens. My … how late it is getting, her father commented as he confirmed the time with his pocket watch. You look somewhat pale, my darling. Are you feeling well?

"Yes, father. Although … I am a bit tired."

He placed a soft kiss upon her head. Come now. Wrap your arms around my neck. Her father carried her on his back up to her bedroom.

As they made their way down the dimly lit hallway to her bedroom Victoria asked, Father, will I always feel tired? Some days I simply would rather stay in bed.

Chin up, my darling. Someday you will run through fields bursting with wildflowers of every color and have the strength of Hercules. For a moment, she sensed that a subtle tension within his voice betrayed his response. Yet they were both tired. Maybe that was it?

After her bath, he helped her brush her long brown hair before tucking her into bed. As Victoria lay her head down upon her pillow, she noticed how her father’s attention was drawn to the china doll snuggled next to her. Mother gave Celine to me, Victoria whispered. Do you ever miss mother?

Her father smiled through his tired expression before he replied, Every minute of every hour of every day, my darling.

She was ill like me. Did you ever try to fix her?

After a brief hesitation, her father responded, I tried to. He kissed Victoria softly upon her head and pulled the covers up to her chin. The sweetest of dreams, my darling, he whispered before turning off her light.

Chapter Two

1:12 p.m. – July 31, 1914

Although Victoria was never prone to paying attention to idle gossip-filled whispers, the quiet conversation between two ladies on the other side of the bookshelf had captured her attention. Victoria went to the public library in search of a well-written novel of suspense to pass the time with. Yet the story being woven by the careless words of these two ladies regretfully held so much more interest.

It is unfortunate that the poor thing must suffer due to her father’s simply bizarre experimentations, which ultimately forced his resignation from the infirmary, whispered one of the ladies.

The second of the ladies then commented, Poor Victoria spends all of her time inside that wretched old house. I simply cannot fathom why she would willingly stay with a man who epitomizes Doctor Frankenstein? This last comment heard the burst of muffled laughter from them both.

The point at which her temper would erupt now passed its threshold. Victoria left the aisle where she overheard the hateful comments, and returned moments later to confront the terrible gossips. After slamming a book down upon a table next to them, Victoria angrily addressed the startled women amidst the deafening silence from the other library patrons. "My brilliant father’s name is Doctor Roderick Winterhurst … and not Doctor Frankenstein." Through guilt-ridden glances, the women looked down upon the table as Victoria stormed away. For them, she left the library’s only copy of the novel, Frankenstein.

A short while later Victoria found herself speeding in her motorcar through winding country lanes as she returned to the estate where she resided with her father. The anger that coursed through her matched the intensity of the heat of the July summer afternoon. Over and over within her mind, the careless words from the women in the library continued to echo. She seldom ever left the estate and now worried how many shared the views of these women. She knew her father to be a brilliant surgeon. He would never be capable of such monstrous acts committed from a novel such as Frankenstein.

As her motorcar rounded a windmill, a cloud of steam abruptly burst forth from the engine. Cursing unladylike words, she pulled off to the side of the lane and turned off the engine. After stepping out, she simply stood there and watched as the thick steam shrouded the engine from sight. She opened her parasol to shield herself from the scorching sunlight.

A short while later Victoria was startled by an unexpected voice.

Would this be the point where the damsel in distress finds rescue from a knight in rather filthy armor?

With caution Victoria turned to face a young man of similar age to her and who was now standing behind her motorcar. A somewhat devilish smile adorned his ruggedly handsome face. Roughly a foot taller than her, she was momentarily drawn to the sweat and dirt that lay cast across the sun-bronzed muscles of his bare chest. His short wavy chestnut-brown hair and blue eyes enhanced his handsome features. The devilishness of his smile then faded to one more of shyness as he spoke further.

My apologies; it was not my intention to startle you. I was working in the field with my father when I noticed the steam from your engine. May I have a look? he asked as he stepped toward the front of the motorcar.

Please, Victoria forced the word from her throat. The young man stepped around her to the front of the motorcar and then opened the engine cover by using a handkerchief to touch the blisteringly hot surface. For a few moments, the steam billowed forth until it dissipated.

She could not stop her eyes from being drawn to his bare muscular frame. The muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen perfectly glistened from the perspiration of standing next to the overheated engine. Never before within her twenty years had she entertained thoughts of desire in this manner. His words regretfully then drew her away from these thoughts.

"Just as I suspected, the engine is as parched as I am. It will require water for its radiator once the engine has cooled. Either you could wait here in this dreadful heat…or, I could see you home and return your motorcar to you this evening," he offered with more shyness that she found endearing.

I imagine that it would be proper for the knight in filthy armor to present his name to the damsel in distress. My name is Victoria Winterhurst, she offered in introduction.

The young man smiled at her and extended his dirt-covered hand to her. Trevor Kerrigan, he offered with his own introduction. He held up his hand for her to patiently remain there for a moment as he hurried out to the field to speak to an older man. Upon his return, he offered an apology. I needed to tell my father that I would see you home. Please, follow me, he said as he began to walk toward the windmill.

Do you have a motorcar? Victoria questioned with curiosity.

No, Miss Winterhurst. I do believe, however, that you will find this most interesting, Trevor responded somewhat mysteriously. His devilish smile had returned to his handsome face. As a firefly drawn to a lamp, she found herself entranced by his mischievousness.

After following Trevor up the hillside and then further back behind the windmill, Victoria came to an abrupt halt. You simply must be barking mad. The brutal sun must have damaged your mind, she uttered with astonishment. May I ask…what that is?

That, Miss Winterhurst, is my flying machine, Trevor responded through bursting pride.

Victoria took a step closer as her jaw continued to remain dropped.

I constructed it in the spirit of the flying machine used by those brilliant American chaps, the Wright Brothers. I made some modifications to enhance their design, Trevor commented as he was preparing his flying machine for flight.

There simply is no possible way that I will allow you to see me home in that death trap.

Trevor smiled before walking over to her. I promise that no harm will come to you. I have flown many times with nary a scratch. With a cautious manner, Trevor reached over and took a gentle hold of Victoria’s hand. She looked into his eyes and listened as his words entranced her.

Have you ever held the desire for just a moment to find release from worldly troubles and simply soar through the clouds? The sensation of being awakened from a world that seems half asleep is most profound. Imagine how God and the angels feel as they soar through the heavens while looking upon creation. To become one with the wind is to find a most sublime freedom. Stepping away from her he continued to hold her hand. For a moment, she stood steadfast, yet one step after another would betray her resolve. Willingly, she now allowed herself to be led to what she believed would be her untimely death.

Trevor handed her a pair of goggles and then helped her into one of the two seats aboard his flying machine. After laboring with the propeller, the engine fired and the flying machine quaked with power. A momentary stench of fuel faded away. Trevor quickly found his seat next to Victoria and then grasped the throttle. Victoria held her breath and closed her eyes as she felt the sensation of