Lost To Time: Lost To Time, #1

By Sophia Florenza

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!

One minute I'm on vacation with my family in Ireland, visiting a "supposed" fairy hill during a solar eclipse. The next, I feel as if I'm on a wild roller coaster ride. I am tumbling through solid blackness until I landed painfully on my ass in ancient TROY! 

The best part? I meet Braxius, a tall, dark Trojan prince who is known for being "too friendly" with the ladies and is determined to have me at any cost! What is a girl from the 21st Century to do?!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sophia Florenza
• Release date: Jan 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201292423

Sophia Florenza

My journey as a writer started as most things begin by accident.  I was let go from my job, and I was currently in-between positions. During my downtime, I decided to write a story to keep me busy.  Knowing nothing about how to publish an ebook, I researched for a couple of hours and downloaded essential ebook writing apps.   With the help of my spouse, I was able to complete my first book The Divine-less Comedy (Book One). Maybe someday writing will replace the job I lost but for now, I'm enjoying the challenges of writing and hope that my personal story will inspire others to try something different.

Book preview

Acknowledgments

I want to thank my critique group for sharing their insight and wisdom. You ladies rock!

---

Chapter One

Wake up, Jessa! Meena rips the blankets from me, exposing my warm body to the cool morning air.

Go away, I mumble, rolling over to block out the sunlight peeking through the lacy curtains of the small Bed and Breakfast room window. I'm on vacation.

Exactly, Meena exclaims, tugging at my pillow. We're on vacation! How many times are we going to have the chance to witness a solar eclipse in Ireland of all places!

I don't think a solar eclipse is going to be any different in Ireland than it is anywhere else, I grumble. Placing my arm over my eyes.

But I want to watch it from the Fairy Hill! Meena prattles on while she walks over to the dreaded window and pulls open the floral curtains. And who goes on a trip to another country and spends their whole day sleeping?!

Someone who's spent the last few years foregoing sleep to achieve her bachelor's degree. Finally giving up on the idea of sleep, I push my dark hair out of my face as I blink up at her. What the hell's a fairy hill anyway?

Did you forget everything from Grandda's stories? Meena rolls her big, brown eyes and puts her hands on her hips. She is acting like a petulant child urging their parents to wake up on Christmas morning.

Grandda told a lot of stories. I sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of the narrow bed.

A fairy hill is a mound of dirt circled by rocks where the fairies live in their underground palaces, Meena's tone suggests that I should already know this. She bends, her long brown hair falls into her face as she scoops my blankets from the floor. Standing, she tosses the blankets onto the bed then fixes her hair as she sits on the twin bed across from mine in our shared room. And there's supposed to be one that's just down the path, which would be the perfect place to observe the eclipse.

You're 21, Meena. You can't honestly tell me you believe in fairies! So I tell my younger sister of nine months. I have yet to have caffeine, and unlike my Irish twin, I am NOT a morning person. I'll take the soft tones of moonlight over the blinding sun any day of the week!

Meena giggles, the sound pure and mischievous all at once. If fairies were real, she could probably be one. Everything about her is musical. It sounds like a donkey braying when I laugh, but it is as melodic as the whispering waters of a babbling brook when my sister laughs. I know they're not real, Jessa. But wouldn't it be wonderful if they were if magic was real and could whisk us away from all of our worries?

I reach over on the nightstand between the two beds for my bottled water. Magic isn't going to pay my bills or make my future a success. Hard work will, I take a sip of water to clear my parched throat before continuing. Can't you ask Mom and Dad to go with you? Dad loves his Irish Lore as much as you do. Right now, all I want to love is sleep or caffeine.

Mom and Dad took the tour bus to Dublin, Meena explains hurriedly, obviously letting me know that the morning is getting late. They got tired of waiting for you, and Dad wanted to view the manuscripts on display at Trinity College.

Fine, I groan. I heave myself upright and walk to the ornate wooden dresser. The floral-print porcelain water jar and bowl atop it shake as I open the top drawer and grab my undergarments. But I want a shower and coffee.

Meena squeals wrapping her arms around me, then pulls back to give me a blinding smile.

I'll handle the coffee while you shower. She all but prances from the room as I glare after her.

I examine the rustic cottage-style room as I move to the wooden corner wardrobe to figure out my outfit for the day.

Why are all the furnishings in B&Bs the same? Is there a B&B shopping website exclusive for places that convey simplicity and rustic?

Glancing at the serene painting of an Irish countryside hanging on the white plastered wall as I pass, I nod at the room's only unique feature. Opening the wardrobe, I grab a t-shirt and jeans then shuffle out the door to find the shower.

---

After a shower, coffee, and a light breakfast, I am almost human an hour later. I follow Meena into the warm Irish summer sun, crossing the front yard to the path the innkeeper mentioned.

We discover the start of the trail and make our way into the bright green forest. Shadows dance across the worn, dirt path in a kaleidoscope of patterns as the glittering sunshine peeks through the leaves of the trees. I smirk at the carved wooden signs marking the way to the fairy hill.

Who believes in fairies anyway?

Reaching our destination, I gasped, grateful Meena dragged me out of bed to see this. White stones surround a giant mound about ten feet tall, and at its center, a large rowan tree stands sentry. The tree's branches sway methodically with the breeze; the sound of its rustling leaves adds to the soothing embrace of the gentle wind in the humid summer heat. The tranquility of the idyllic scene before me could almost make me believe in magic.

Look, it's starting! Meena points toward the sky, where the edges of the moon have just touched the fringes of the sun

Hurrying past the stones, Meena and I climb up the mound. Finding a spot beneath the tree, we place our special glasses over our eyes. The moon covering the sun in the cloudless sky.

The escalating wind cools the perspiration on my body, and I release a sigh, settling back against the tree, unable to imagine a more perfect day. Meena hasn't stopped talking since we left the B&B, but I've learned to drown out her nonsensical chatter.

Everything grows menacingly dark as the moon consumes the sun. I hear Meena state ....and that's why the locals stay away from fairy hills during an eclipse. Her voice trails off and she tilts her head as if straining to listen.

That's when I notice the silence as if the world around us has been muted. There are no sounds of birds or even the buzzing of gnats and flies. There is just... nothing. It is like the Earth stopped breathing in anticipation, waiting for something to come. I turn toward Meena, and my own panic is reflected in her wide eyes.

The eerie silence fills my ears as the brilliant corona surrounding the moon changes the once lush scenery to something alien and foreign. Every vestige of life that filled the forest has disappeared. The once serene landscape is now filled with menacing shadows and unfamiliar shapes. I hold my breath as irrational fear penetrates my chest, sending shivers over me, while I wait for the noises of life start again.

The anticipation breaks in a cacophony of sound. A breeze picks up speed, blowing harder and harder, the rushing and roaring commanding my senses. I try to stand, pulling myself up the trunk of the rowan, but the wind