Captured by Time

By S.E. Isaac

Emily Freeman is an indie author with dreams of making it big. She's worked hard to save up for a book-signing event and nothing will stop her. Or so she thought. When her car breaks down, she finds herself in the passenger seat of a fellow author, Selma Alvar's car. Just when Emily thought things were smooth sailing, she and Selma find themselves stuck in the 1950s throwback town of Camden, Michigan. The fifties decor is the least of the weirdness in Camden-- there's a moose who delivers food!

The mysterious townspeople and weird things going on have Emily ready to run for the hills. However, there is one thing in Camden that makes her want to stay... the very sexy Kian Lucas Nordin. The very man who makes her feel like her world is on fire. When he's around, she can't think straight. All she can think about is happily-ever-afters and steamy nights with the dreamy man.

Will Emily be able to get her head out of the clouds long enough for her and Selma to make a run for it? Or will she choose to stay trapped in Camden with the man of her dreams?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evanlea Publishing & Designs
• Release date: Aug 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393069010

S.E. Isaac

S.E. Isaac is a mother of three boys, an Army Veteran, and writes books to help readers escape reality. Writing has always been an outlet for her, even at the young age of eight, which is when she started writing poetry and short stories. It has always been a dream to have her work published and to have readers connect with her characters. She believes that is every writer's dream--to have their work truly read. ~*Every author needs a starting point. We close our eyes and jump blindly into the world of words in hopes of sharing it with the world. We hope to connect with our readers and take them on a journey through our words- S.E.Isaac*~

Book preview

https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/773syOaYatAXFVLy_uByLxmpRputFQ7EFRIUm7vviCFi3wag3ZkRXhaAIl9Ron_yKuDful8MIyxzqsVu_3Vxg_e40iZ_i9uYB_GDsJ0pCkgyb0qbLKCCeWrs8GRbWeGqGwGMJAYcEOAAylBySQ 1

Come on, Mr. Luck! You can’t hide under there! What if you get hurt? Ms. Charles pleaded in an upset voice. Please? Emily Freeman took a deep breath, opened the exam room door and entered the room. There she found Ms. Charles on her knees looking under the exam table. Ms. Charles’ large ass waving in the air was the last thing Emily had wanted to see.

She was in her late sixties, had her black hair pulled back into a neat bun, her white face was powdered up with makeup and lips fire engine red. Her derriere, or as Emily likes to call it ass, was up in the air facing Emily. Ms. Charles wore a navy-blue dress with a hideous floral print. Her matching navy stockings peeked out between the hem of her dress and the top of her shoes. 

Mr. Luck, Ms. Charles shouted again. Her raspy shout made Emily cringe. It wasn’t even lunchtime and already Emily had a headache. 

Ms. Charles, it’s okay. Stand up. Let’s let Emily get Mr. Luck to come out, Dr. Hemington suggested. His beady brown eyes staring at Emily through his thick brown classes. His brown hair was parted off to the side with an Alfalfa cowlick towards the back of his head that made Emily chuckle on the inside. If Dr. Hemington wasn’t such a jerk, she would have gladly told the man to fix his hair. However, they weren’t on good terms. They were on the simple ‘I’ll do my job. You give me my paycheck at the end of the week’ terms. There were days that Emily wished they weren’t even on those terms.

Dr. Hemington was in his late thirties. His mother was Scottish and his father was from the Middle East. This combination of heritage gave him the perfect sun-kissed complexion. The bridge of his nose had taken a few punches to it in the past, but chiseled jawline and stubble facial hair outshone it. Occasionally, he would let it grow out. The man was nothing to swoon over with his average height and build. However, the women who came into the office would swear to you that Dr. Hemington was a gift from the gods. 

Emily. Are you going to stand there? Or are you going to get Mr. Luck out, Dr. Hemington asked with a patient chart in one hand and the other hand on his hip. Ms. Charles stood next to him with her finger pointed to the exam table.

Of course, doctor, Emily said sweetly through her clenched teeth. Setting the tray of shots on to the counter, she kneeled down next to the exam table. She had hoped to not get her new Jurassic Park scrubs dirty today. Life had other plans.

She stared under the exam table. Terrified wide green eyes stared at her. Eyes that belonged to a trembling Mr. Luck. 

Mr. Luck, Emily cooed. It’s okay. You’re safe. 

Mr. Luck wasn’t buying it. He cowered further into the corner. Truthfully, Emily couldn’t blame him. Being in the room with Dr. Hemington and Ms. Charles was frightful. She couldn’t imagine Mr. Luck being stuck with Ms. Charles days-on-end. 

Mr. Luck, come on. You’re going to get stuck. You aren’t as thin or young as you used to be, Emily stated waving a finger at Mr. Luck.

Ugh! The nerve, Ms. Charles gasped. Mr. Luck is still in his prime. How dare you tell him otherwise? Emily rolled her eyes and continued trying to coerce Mr. Luck out from under the exam table. 

Why don’t we just move the exam table, Dr. Hemington, Emily asked looking up at Dr. Hemington who was frowning at her. Or not, you grump, she thought to herself. She stretched her arm out under the table. Mr. Luck was just out of reach. 

Do you have him? Do you have him, Ms. Charles asked impatiently. You need this job, Emily. You need this job.

Not yet, Ms. Charles. 

Ugh, Ms. Charles stomped. 

Mr. Luck, I know why you don’t want to come out, Emily whispered. I don’t blame you. But please, for me, won’t you come out? Remember, I’m your favorite. You’ve never bitten me. Not once. She couldn’t help but smirk at the last time Mr. Luck was here for a checkup. He had given everyone hell. Well, everyone but her. 

Mr. Luck looked at Emily with pleading eyes.

I know. I’m sorry... If you come out, I’ll go get you a yummy treat. How about that? Mr. Luck only stared. 

Emily scooted closer to the exam table. Her arm reaching as far as it could reach. She could feel Mr. Luck, but not enough to grab him. Emily moved her body to a different position. She reached again. This time she was successful. She grabbed Mr. Luck gently and pulled him from under the exam table. 

Success, Emily shouted victoriously. Mr. Luck startled. Awe. I’m sorry, Mr. Luck. Emily rubbed the top of Mr. Luck’s head. He purred against her chest and nudged her chin with his head. 

Good. Now let’s take a look at you, Mr. Luck, Dr. Hemington reached for Mr. Luck. That earned him a swat of the front right paw of Mr. Luck. Be a nice kitty. 

Don’t be like that, Mr. Luck, Ms. Charles cooed. Dr. Hemington reached out again. This time Mr. Luck arched his back, hissed and sprung into the air. He landed on a very terrified Dr. Hemington. 

Emily wasn’t sure what to do. She knew she should help her boss, but it wasn’t even an hour ago that he called her a dumbass. He also told her that Pinky, the koi fish, had more brain cells than Emily did. 

Emily frowned and leaned up against the wall. She watched Dr. Hemington as he hooted and hollered, spun around countless times trying to remove the pissed off cat from his medical coat. 

Don’t hurt my Mr. Luck, Ms. Charles screamed. 

Your damn cat is nuts, lady, Dr. Hemington shouted back in retort still trying to remove the cat. Emily, don’t just stand there! Get your ass over here and get this damn thing off of me! 

Oh. Is my dumbass qualified to help with such a huge task, Dr. Asshole?

Damn, trip money, Emily muttered and walked over to Dr. Hemington and Mr. Luck. Aww. Now. Now. Mr. Luck. It’s okay. Come to Auntie Emily, she said in her best baby talk voice.  

Meow!

Mr. Luck jumped into Emily’s arms. He was rewarded with lots of pets and snuggles from her. 

See. All better now. Emily glared at Dr. Hemington, whose hair was sticking up every which way. And, he had lines of blood showing through the right sleeve of his jacket. 

Oh, Mr. Luck! Did that mean ole’ man scare you, Ms. Charles gasped and snatched her cat out of Emily’s arms? Humph. Call my Mr. Luck nuts. See if we ever come back. She placed Mr. Luck into his carrier then gathered her belongings off the chair. And you will be getting one hell of a review on Yelp too, Mister! She waved her finger towards the doctor. Just you wait and see!

Emily opened the door wide for Ms. Charles and Mr. Luck. Ms. Charles began making her way out of the room but stopped just as she was about to pass Emily. 

You, young lady, are a godsend! If you ever want another job away from this baboon, Ms. Charles gestured at Dr. Hemington. You call me. She dug into her purse. I know it is in here somewhere. She rummaged more into her purse. Ah-ha! Here it is.

She handed Emily a business card that read: 

Hannah Charles

CEO, President

Luck Software Design

(321) 987- 0129

Luck Software Design? Where have I heard that name before? Emily thought as she stared at the white, glossy, gold font business card. 

We don’t have any animals there for you to fix or what not. But there are other jobs you can do. And, if you don’t like any of those, I’ll create one for you. Okay? Ms. Charles stared sternly at Emily. It was that look. The look telling you to mind her or you’d be getting a wooden spoon to your ass. 

Yes, ma’am, Emily replied tucking the business card into the front of her scrub pocket. 

And, you... Ms. Charles pointed her finger at Dr. Hemington. You will hear from my lawyer. With one last huff, Ms. Charles disappeared down the hallway. 

Well, that was fun, Emily mused.

That dreadful woman! She thinks she can talk to me in just any tone! Huh? I am Phillip Alfred Hemington! She has some nerve! That... that... Dr. Hemington stammered. Old Bat! That’s what she is! An old damn bat!

Dr. Hemington stormed out of the room and across the hall into exam room three. Waiting in that room was Bruce, a 150-pound rottweiler, who also hated the doc. 

He is in for one hell of a ride if he thought Mr. Luck was a tough patient, Emily chuckled. She tidied up the exam room. Mr. Luck hadn’t done too much damage thankfully. Unlike Bruce who was about to destroy exam room three and possibly Dr. Hemington too. 

Just at that moment, Bruce barked ferociously. Emily wasn’t even in the room with him and he made her jump. Next, there was a loud crash sound that came from inside exam room three.  Emily’s shoulders sunk. She knew what was about to happen next.

EMILY, Dr. Hemington hollered. There was another loud sound. This time it sounded like the exam table hitting the floor. 

Two more days, Emily. Just two more days. Then you are free of this damn place for an entire week, Emily assured herself. 

In two days, Delaware, Ohio, would be in Emily’s rear-view mirror. Lansing, Michigan, was where she was headed. That’s where this year’s Romancing the Mitten sponsored by Hearts Galore Author Services was being held. Emily had been lucky enough to get a spot on the authors’ attending list. Last year, she missed the deadline by a few days. Not this year. This year she would be signing her books for readers, chatting with other authors, and learning tricks of the trade. Being a vet tech was for the birds. As soon as Emily could get a decent income flowing in from her books, she would quit and write books full-time.

Emily, Dr. Hemington yelled out again. Emily, don’t you hear me calling your damn name? Bruce continued to bark, snarl, growl, and everything else a pissed off dog does. Emily stood in front of the door. Her hand on the doorknob. Again, she debated if she really wanted to play Dr. Dolittle and save the doc’s ass again. To be honest, the job didn‘t pay enough for her to play his savior every day. 

We can’t hold him for much longer. Hurry and check his temperature, Sarah, the other vet tech, shouted. 

Emily! Get your ass in here.

Just two more days, Emily sighed and made her way into exam room three to save the day.

https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/IXrubSiiZBSSxGq4To05hJf61qliXWuw99YpTRI5rvYS2Wl1s3ylzUme1ckVdOeLYnVfYKsFm25-z5QyOpAeNz-IqO7FG0w70LafkkP2SqmhlvcbzrrUcG7lQvrVjXSkTKvDP9aRUqo781mL-w

https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/773syOaYatAXFVLy_uByLxmpRputFQ7EFRIUm7vviCFi3wag3ZkRXhaAIl9Ron_yKuDful8MIyxzqsVu_3Vxg_e40iZ_i9uYB_GDsJ0pCkgyb0qbLKCCeWrs8GRbWeGqGwGMJAYcEOAAylBySQ 2

Emily huffed as she walked down the stairway of her apartment. She had chosen the second floor when she had signed the lease. She thought the second floor would keep the creepy, drunk people from knocking on her door. She was right; however, now she had to worry about walking up and down two flights of stairs to put her book signing stuff and luggage in her car, Bitching Betty. Bitching Betty was what Emily had named the old 1995 blue Dodge Neon. 

The pink Hello Kitty suitcase was the last thing to be tossed into the trunk. Emily stared at her unorganized belongings. When the belongings had been in her apartment, they were in an orderly fashion. The way she liked things. By the second trip down the stairs, Emily gave up on keeping things organized. She was just happy to have made it to Bitching Betty without breaking her neck. 

Bitching Betty, I hope you and I can have a great girls’ road trip. No more freeway incidents. Okay, Emily pleaded. The car just sat there. As expected. Here’s to wishful thinking, she sighed.

She walked in front of the car, bowed her head and with closed eyes she said a brief prayer to any god or goddess, who might have been listening, that she would have a smooth trip to the book signing. Her and Bitching Betty had a past. A very unnerving past. 

The car had earned its name on the second day of being owned. The car had overheated in the middle of the freeway which had caused a lot of angry five o’clock drivers to give Emily the bird as they swerved around her. Two men had stopped their truck behind the car then assisted in moving the car to the emergency lane. They even offered to stay with her until her car started; however, Emily was already mortified that they had to stop in the middle of the freeway to help her. So she thanked them for their offer and their help then offered them money. The men refused to accept the money and were soon on their way. 

After an hour, the engine had cooled off enough for her to pour a jug of water into the radiator As quick as she could; she hauled ass down the freeway leaving her pride behind. Or at least she thought she had. The car then decided to make noises that Emily had never heard before and the check engine light popped on. She knew she needed to pull over. It had been a day from hell; work had been a nightmare with Dr. Hemington complaining about everything she did, she had just broken up with her boyfriend of one year, and she had received a phone call from her psycho mother. Emily just wanted to get home. She was no longer on the freeway so there would be less traffic for her and she’d get home in no time. Or at least that is what Emily told herself. The car had other plans. It began to sputter and jerk hard. Then it died in the middle of the road, smoke rolled from under the hood and covered her entire windshield. From then on, the car was named Bitching Betty. And Bitching Betty lived up to her name. Emily had the car less than three years and had already replaced a radiator, transmission, windshield, and four window motors. She needed to get a new car. However, Bitching Betty had grown on her. Emily kind of liked the excitement of ‘what the hell is going to happen now’ so she could post it on social media and earn thousands of likes. Bitching Betty had her purpose in life — social media diva.

***

Son of a bitch, Emily growled with her hands clenched on the steering wheel. She took a quick glance into her rearview mirror to see if her trunk was still shut. Or was Hello Kitty and book signing belongings spread out behind her? The road her GPS had directed her to for the book signing was bumpy, narrow in some places, slick from the falling rain, and deer central. Driving at snail speed didn’t seem to help as she had hoped.

Emily’s heart was damn near in her throat. She had slammed on her brakes several times to avoid hitting a deer or two. Each time there seemed to be a bump in the spot she hit her brakes. Her car would go airborne a few inches off of the road, then land back on the pavement. Her tires would lose traction and she would hydroplane several feet. 

She felt her odds of surviving this trip weren’t looking too good. 

Thanks, GPS! Worthless piece of shit! Emily whacked the GPS attached to her dashboard. The GPS flickered brightly, displayed an error then the screen went black. Ugh. Just great. What else can go wrong? 

Life answered Emily’s question. As she came around a curve, her headlights landed on a deer ahead of her. The deer was halfway across the road when he stopped and looked at the car. Emily’s heart was beating like a drum. A very loud drum.

Go! Run, Bambi’s dad, Emily pleaded. Her hands still gripped to the steering wheel. She feared if she hit the brakes, she would go spinning off the road and down the embankment. If she didn’t hit the brakes, she would hit the buck. Killing the buck and totaling her car was the last things on her to-do-list. 

Sputter. Sputter. Clank. Clank. 

Emily knew that sound oh too well. Bitching Betty had decided to take life into her own hands. Bitching Betty was going to die right then and there. Emily wasn’t sure if she should be thankful or threaten Bitching Betty with the scrap yard. 

Emily finally guided the car to the side of the road. Wonderful. Just wonderful, she grumbled. 

She hadn’t seen civilization for miles. The rinky-dink gas station she had stopped at was nearly an hour back. There was no way in hell she was walking anywhere, this late at night in the pouring rain. She was crazy, but not that crazy. 

The buck stood a few feet from the car. Run, Mr. Bambi. Runaway. You’re safe, now. Her hand gestured back and forth shooing the deer. He didn’t move right away. Just stood there in the rain looking at Emily and her dead car.

Crash!

Lightning struck off in the distance. It scared both Emily and the deer. The deer took off into the woods. The angry scream she had been holding she finally let out. She cursed, screamed, and slammed her fists on the steering wheel until she was calmer.

Okay. Big girl panties up. Game face on. You got this, Emily Sophia Freeman! 

Emily reached behind the passenger seat. She felt around until she found what she was looking for. A fishing-tackle-box-sized toolbox. She never left home without it. Her dad had been a piece of shit, but he had instilled survivor skills into her. One of the few things she had been thankful to him for. 

From inside the toolbox, she pulled out a flashlight and turned it on. She needed to find the problem before she could fix the problem. 

With the flashlight in her right hand, she pulled the hood release lever with her left hand. She took a deep breath before she swung the door wide open. The rain hit her like an ice cold waterfall. She shrieked and slammed the door shut again. 

Why don’t I own a damn raincoat, she asked herself staring out the window. Okay. You can do this, Emily. You can do this. 

Before she could change her mind, she opened the door, hopped out, and slammed the door shut. The rain pounded down on her. It hadn’t been but a few seconds and she was drenched. She ran to the front of the car and popped the hood. Leaning closer to the engine, she listened carefully for any sounds out of the ordinary. She heard nothing. 

Of course it can’t be simple. Emily moved the flashlight beam across the engine block. The rain slid in under the hood and blurred the beam from the flashlight. Emily screamed in frustration. She just wanted to go to the book signing. Her very first book signing, Romancing the Mitten. Yet, everything was going wrong. 

The closer to the signing she got, the stranger and worse things got. The middle of Timbuktu gas station she had last filled up at was no exception. She had muttered every cuss word she knew under her breath when the old man had told her they didn’t accept debit cards or credit cards. Luckily, Emily had taken out ‘just in case cash’ for her trip and was able to pay for her fill-up. 

Anything else want to be thrown into this chaotic, clusterfuck of a road trip, Emily shouted over the pouring rain. The flashlight slipped from her hand and tumbled down between the engine block and battery. Emily just stood there. Tears threatened to pour down her face. She wasn’t sure if they were tears of despair or tears from being so pissed.  

She gave a quick glance around. There were no cars in sight, so she walked around to the driver’s side of the hood and leaned in. The flashlight teeter-tottered on a hose just below the battery. Emily reached in over the edge and slid her hand down to retrieve it. 

Skreech! 

Sadly, the noise was music to Emily’s ears. It was the sound of a car hitting its brakes in the rain. She quickly stuck her head out from under the hood. A set of high beams greeted her as a car was coming towards her. The lights were blinding but were gone just as fast as they had come. 

The car the lights belonged to continued swerving for a few yards, then came to a stop. She let out a sigh of relief that the driver was able to keep control of the car. 

Hey, Emily cried out. She waved her hands in the air. The rain was falling too hard for her to see if the driver noticed her or not. Usually, she wouldn’t approach an unknown car, at night, in the pouring rain, but she saw no other option. 

Careful to not fall, she made her way over to the car. Her headlights shined against the back of the car. It was a cream colored, two-door Mini Cooper. Looked to be brand new. Focus, Emily! You’re stranded in the middle of bum-fuck Egypt. It’s not the time to be checking out cars.

She tapped on the window. The window came down slowly. The rain welcomed itself into the driver’s car. Strands of dark hair whipped around in the car. It was a woman. Her hands clutched the steering wheel. She appeared to be nervous.

Are you okay? I’m so sorry my big ass was out in the road. My damn car just up and stopped and I’m completely lost. The woman looked familiar. Wait, Don’t I know you? The woman sat quietly looking up at her.

Yeah... the November write-in, right? It’s Sara... Thelma... Louise, Emily rambled hoping the driver would stop her at one of the names. Ugh. Why can’t I remember human names like I remember Mr. Luck and Bruce’s name? Emily cursed to herself.

Selma Alvar... and I recognized your bumper sticker. What are you doing out here?

I was heading for Romancing the Mitten, until Bitching Betty, which is what I call my car, sputtered and died.

I’m heading there too... How did we not know each other was going? The woman laughed. 

Wait, did your GPS get you lost and then lose signal too? She asked Emily. 

Yeah, and my phone is dead so I couldn’t call and try to get some help. Normally I can repair the car on my own and at least make it to a house or town, but I think it is one hundred percent dead this time.

"Well,