Right Place, Right Time

By KM Mahoney

All the time in the world is still never enough.

In the heart of London in 1349, an apothecary engages in a futile battle against the rising tide of death brought on by the Great Pestilence. For this man, however, the duties of his profession are accompanied by an even greater responsibility—find Henry and ensure he survives the worst of the epidemic sweeping the Western world.

Now if only Dr. Drake Stilson knew which Henry to save. As an employee of The Oracle Group, a military and scientific organization dedicated to correcting the damage done by people playing around with time travel, this is far from the first time Drake has been sent to a distant time and place and expected to do the impossible. This is the first time, though, that he's felt as if the battle is lost before it even begins. Surrounded by fear and loss, Drake is on the verge of surrendering to the inevitable when disaster strikes.

Despite being partners in work and life, Jens Pakkala rarely gets to spend time with Drake. He would love to take his partner and walk away from The Oracle Group, but how can he ask a dedicated historian to give up the opportunity to live out his studies? Then Drake runs into trouble on his latest assignment and Jens' world begins to crumble. Now he has to figure out how to get himself to the right place and time to save Drake and bring him safely home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Apr 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781786514707

KM Mahoney

Born and raised in the middle of the Midwest, I have always been a dreamer. More often than not I could be found with my nose buried in a book (many of which I had to sneak past my parents). It wasn't long before I started trying my hand at writing more of the stories I loved. After years of penning tales that rarely left the hard drive of my computer, I discovered M/M romance. As with all genres, it wasn't long before my own characters started to take shape. There is little I love more than wandering new places and, on occasion, entirely new worlds with my characters. They can range from cowboys to Victorian noblemen, accountants to shapeshifters, and everything in between. I write mainly m/m romance, usually with paranormal or fantasy elements. I willingly follow my characters wherever they decide to go, sometimes with unusual results. I have little control over their actions—any naughty behaviour is all their doing!

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Right Place, Right Time

ISBN # 978-1-78651-470-7

©Copyright K.M. Mahoney 2016

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2016

Edited by Rebecca Scott

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2016 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

RIGHT PLACE, RIGHT TIME

K.M. Mahoney

All the time in the world is still never enough.

In the heart of London in 1349, an apothecary engages in a futile battle against the rising tide of death brought on by the Great Pestilence. For this man, however, the duties of his profession are accompanied by an even greater responsibility—find Henry and ensure he survives the worst of the epidemic sweeping the Western world.

Now if only Dr. Drake Stilson knew which Henry to save. As an employee of The Oracle Group, a military and scientific organization dedicated to correcting the damage done by people playing around with time travel, this is far from the first time Drake has been sent to a distant time and place and expected to do the impossible. This is the first time, though, that he’s felt as if the battle is lost before it even begins. Surrounded by fear and loss, Drake is on the verge of surrendering to the inevitable when disaster strikes.

Despite being partners in work and life, Jens Pakkala rarely gets to spend time with Drake. He would love to take his partner and walk away from The Oracle Group, but how can he ask a dedicated historian to give up the opportunity to live out his studies? Then Drake runs into trouble on his latest assignment and Jens’ world begins to crumble. Now he has to figure out how to get himself to the right place and time to save Drake and bring him safely home.

Dedication

Because sometimes you need a little history with your science fiction.

Trademarks Acknowledgment

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Doctor Who: The British Broadcasting Corporation

Energizer Bunny: Energizer Holdings, Inc.

I’m getting too old for this shit: Lethal Weapon, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.

Prologue

London, England

January 1349

Drake adjusted the pack at his side, tugging on the thick leather strap. He nodded politely to the people he passed. Snow fell in a gentle veil, turning the road to a thick slush that sucked at his boots.

London was a hellish place these days. The air was heavy with moisture, the stench awful. The usual smell of the city—sewage, mildew and too many humans in one place—was overlaid with something Drake could only label as ‘death’. It didn’t pay these days to look too closely into the alleys, and the smoke drifting over the city was not only from hearths and cooking fires. People flocked to the churches, praying in desperation for deliverance—and bringing bodies to be dumped into the mass pits in the yards.

In the not-so-distant past, these busy streets bustled with people. Now, the crowds were nonexistent, and those who were outside moved with purpose, nervousness and tension written on their faces and in their posture. Those who could leave the city had already fled, leaving behind only those whose lives and social positions didn’t allow them to take refuge in the country.

Not that it would help. Sometimes, knowledge was a heavy burden.

A cold wind whipped between the precariously balanced wooden buildings, bringing with it a fresh spate of snow. Drake squinted against the blast and picked up his pace, anxious to reach the relative safety of his shop. He wouldn’t have ventured out at all, but he’d been running low on sorrel. James, an apothecary a few blocks away, had a surplus. Right now, the normal rivalries and competitions had been put aside. They were all working at a manic pace, trying to save as many lives as they could, no matter how fruitless the task seemed.

James hadn’t looked well and Drake had the sinking feeling the man would be dead within the next few days. He was coughing constantly. Could just be stress, but of late Drake’s optimism had taken a long trip.

Drake reached the small shop without being stopped by anyone, a fact for which he was grateful. Normally he loved taking the time to chat, to learn about his neighbors and their lives, but not today. Today, he had an appointment. One he refused to miss.

The small sign above the shop door swung in the winter wind. No words, only a faded painting depicting mortar and pestle, the primary tools of an apothecary’s trade. Drake pushed the heavy door open, letting the weak sunlight infiltrate the dark and dingy interior. The smell of herbs, spices and alcohol tried to choke him. Drake took a few deep breaths through his mouth until he grew accustomed to the aroma. Even after all this time, the scent still hit him hard at first.

After setting his bag to one side, he traversed the perimeter of the cramped space, lighting lanterns as he went. They did little to help. Atmosphere. That’s what the boys who had set up this place had called it.

Atmosphere, indeed, he muttered. A bloody menace, that’s what it is.

Drake really missed electricity.

He reflexively looked at his wrist, cursing almost silently upon remembering there was nothing there. It had to be getting close, though.

The curtains were still drawn over the display window. Drake ensured the door was firmly locked, then dropped the heavy wooden bar across for good measure.

The back room was a cluttered mess. He could almost hear the voice in his head, Jens’ deep tones not well-suited to whining. How do you find anything? If you were one of my men—

Drake usually cut him off with a kiss. Sometimes even just a touch was enough. Jens would give that soft smile, the one only Drake ever saw.

Drake ducked under the dried herbs hanging from the rafters, pushing them aside with a delicate touch. Hmm, the rue and thistle were getting low, too. He had best check the spices, as well. Later.

For now, his goal was the mirror tucked out of sight in the back corner, draped with a woolen blanket to hide it from view. If anyone caught a glimpse of it, there would be questions he couldn’t answer. A mirror that size, in the possession of a mere backstreet apothecary? At the very least, he’d be hauled to the Tower as a thief.

Drake ripped the cover off and smiled at the opaque glass. The glass was so smooth as to make the glass workers of the time marvel—then wonder what the hell the maker was thinking, as he had apparently forgotten the silver backing. When the viewer looked inside, no reflection stared back, only the cloudy film of a dirty piece of glass.

But then it wasn’t a mirror,