Noontide Sun

By Jessie Thomas

For seven long years, Sarah has heard nothing but her betrothed's voice against a perpetual storm. 

After incurring the wrath of a spiteful Redcoat officer capable of wielding magic, Sarah was separated across centuries from Gabriel, the young man she intended to marry. While Gabriel languishes in a prison where the years pass without aging him, Sarah is trapped in a present that isn't her own with the key that can free him. 

When the key starts to disintegrate, Sarah is forced into a race against time to rescue the young man she loves before they're both lost to the depths of waning magic. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessie Thomas
• Release date: Jul 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781533732477

Book preview

NOONTIDE SUN

A PLEA FOR HELP WAS thwarted in the night, before it could fall upon sympathetic ears. Sarah heard it catch the misty air for just a moment—a fleeting, desperate wail that could only be human. The empty streets and unseasonably cold summer breeze had carried the sound right to her.

Rushing over glistening cobblestones, Sarah tugged the hood of her cloak up against the fine mist that fell from a foggy night sky. An uneasy feeling coiled in the pit of her stomach as she sought out the call. A wiser person might have ignored it, but the sharp, tumbling gravel of the voice that followed did nothing but propel Sarah forward.  

"Enough, the voice snapped. Sarah knew that tone, the deadly sneer that she didn’t have to see to know was present. Leave him. I’ll take it from here."

Sarah paused at the mouth of an alley and flattened herself against a building so she could peer around the corner. Deep in the alley, a door creaked as it opened and shut. The torchlight in the cavernous space painted Major Cartwright—the owner of the sneering growl—in hues of orange and gold. His unfortunate victim remained on his knees, swathed in shadow, his hands bound in front of him. Sarah could hear his shuddering, tearful breaths. Cartwright removed something from the victim’s mouth and lobbed it aside, bringing the poor man’s whimpering sounds to their full volume.

On your feet, Cartwright ordered. When the man did not comply, he repeated the command between gritted teeth. "I said on your feet, soldier. You will stand before me at attention."

The soldier moved from shadow, illuminating a face that had been marked by fists and dripped blood that appeared black by flame. Sarah’s hands braced against the stone exterior of the building, a new wave of fear creeping its way into her gut. The soldier was bent slightly, unable to stand proud and ramrod straight as so many others wearing red had done on their marches through the streets. Sarah watched him cower before his superior officer and felt a pang of sympathy that had, until now, been unfamiliar.

Please, the soldier gasped, spitting blood onto the ground. P-Please, I—

Begging will not grant you forgiveness. I am a reasonable man, Cartwright told him, but I do not tolerate desertion. I thought I made that especially clear.

As soon as the soldier dropped to his knees again, Sarah turned away. She heard his half-coherent appeals for his own life at the major’s feet. They stopped when another blow landed, forcing a few pained coughs out of the bedraggled soldier.

Stand up, Cartwright said. Disgust laced his words. You owe it to yourself to act with dignity in whatever time you have left.

When Sarah peeked at the scene again, the soldier stood upright. If she were braver, stronger, she might have had a mind to intervene. But her place was not to disrupt. She did not dare to go up against someone like Cartwright, who had the ability to silence her without much effort. She just didn’t know if she could bear to watch any more of this.

Do you understand what you could have done? he asked, and in one quick motion, he grabbed the soldier’s chin. "You could have ruined me. Ruined this entire operation, putting our advantages at stake."

I swear—on my life—

Your life isn’t worth much to me. Cartwright pulled him closer, shaking him. "I allowed you a certain responsibility and you...you committed the highest act of betrayal."

Sarah’s brow furrowed trying to decode what the major was implying. Desertion was a crime in itself, but whatever this unfortunate soldier had done appeared to supersede that. The major’s wrath happened to be notorious in this section of Philadelphia. This, however, felt far more sinister. There was something quiet and calculating about