On March 31 (just a week away!) The Man with Two Pasts (Timeloopers #4) hits shelves! You can check out the first book in the series here. Here's the description and the final teaser!
The Man with Two Pasts
She was too smart to be popular. Too pretty to be ignored. Too conceited to be tolerated.
Seventeen-year-old Iris Strasser can’t seem to blend in to save her life, and she just made everything ten times worse. Time travel must have seriously compromised her judgment, because somehow she’s blundered into a relationship she’s not ready for with way-too-popular-for-his-own-good Cory Holland, the one boy she hates more than anyone—and now, infuriatingly, has a crush on. Now every girl at Lakeside wants her head on a stick.
Screw her feelings for him. They can have him back. She can’t stand Cory’s prickish cockiness for one more insufferable second. Except breaking up with him also breaks something in the past.
Now, all that’s left of the boy she almost loved is a lingering hint of déjà vu. That, and a confused ache in her heart.
Because everyone knows Cory died a long time ago.
The Man with Two Pasts, Teaser #3
Adrenaline whiplashed down Cory’s spine, and his hand tightened on the device.
Caught in the act.
Thomas straightened his glasses and wiped his palms on his khakis.
“Cory Holland,” he said. “Well, I think you get an award for the messiest timeline ever created. I mean, that was just ugly.”
“Uh…what are you talking about?” Cory tucked the black device behind his back. “I’m not doing anything, I’m just cheating on my physics test.”
“Nuh-uh-uh,” Thomas said, wagging his finger. “Hands where I can see them.”
“Fine. Whatever you say.” Cory stuffed the device in his back pocket and raised his palms. “See? Nothing.”
“Except, of course, the stolen piece of electronics in your back pocket. I’m from the future, Cory. And the past. I know everything. Everything you’ve tried to do, everything you will try to do, I’ve prevented it. Because I’m the author of this timeline, not Edgard Faye, and most certainly not you.”
“Still got no clue what you’re talking about,” Cory bluffed.
“I have pride in my work, Cory. You’re a hacker, I’m sure you understand. Your solution to the problem, it was just…it was inelegant…all that silly back and forth,” he gave a dismissive wave of his hands, “it’s enough to give me a headache, and the iPhone script, enough with the iPhone script, we get it already. If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.”
“What, you don’t like my style?” said Cory.
“About that…See, I’m somewhat of an artist myself. I want my timeline to be clean and elegant, a work of art. Obviously, I could kill you now,” he nodded to a gun lying next to him, barrel fixed with a silencer, and Cory fought the urge to swallow, “and although crude, you would indeed die, and no one, not even Edgard Faye, could possibly unravel your hot mess of a timeline to save you. What you’ve created is called a kink. Between today and tomorrow, not one more person and not one more loop can fit in this room without causing a paradox. Messy, messy, messy. So just killing you isn’t good enough, because I also want to undo the mess you’ve made. I want a clean loop.”
Screw this guy. Cory didn’t need to hear this crap.
He yanked the device out of his pocket and held it up. “Yo, Frankie. This is the thing that goes back in time and saves your life. Whoops—” He dropped it and crushed it under his heal, cracking the plastic case and grinding it into the cement floor until the LED quit blinking. “There, now you’re dead.”
Thomas had no reaction. He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Cory glanced around, waiting for the rush of feedback. Come on…
“As I was saying,” Thomas continued, “you’ve taken a big, fat dump on my timeline, and I’ve had to watch it happen over and over again and it’s really starting to piss me off, so this time I’m not just going to kill you, I am literally going to undo you…all the way back to the beginning.” He pulled out a small red notebook, cracked it open. “All the way back to the beginning, let’s see…how to erase Cory Holland…”
Watching him, Cory felt his blood go cold. “Wait, wait, wait, maybe we should talk about this?”
Franklin Thomas flipped a few pages, rubbing his jaw.
“I mean, you don’t want to change too far back—”
“Ah, now this is elegant.” Franklin Thomas smiled and tapped something on the page, then clicked a mechanical pencil. “Right here, I’m just going to make a teensy note.”
“Stop, wait, I can pay you, I have money!” Cory glanced around, frantic. Something to bargain with, a weapon, anything.
“Don’t worry, I’m only changing one tiny variable…” He touched the pencil to the page. “You won’t feel a thing.”
Cory rushed the desk, lunged for the notebook—
Thomas vanished and reappeared behind him. “Nuh-uh-uh,” he said, flickering a little.
He finished writing and slapped the notebook shut. “There. All done.”
The air around Cory began to ripple.
“No, wait, you can’t…you can’t do this to me!” Cory raised his trembling hand to his face and stared as the skin blurred in and out of focus…vanishing. A darkness loomed in his past, growing bigger, swallowing him, sweeping over him like a terrible shadow and leaving nothing in its wake but a deep, aching sense of doom. One by one, his memories unraveled and melted into oblivion. Homecoming dance, September, journeying three weeks into the past…
His memories of Iris went last, lingering sweetly in the air, as if those, more than anything, his mind couldn’t bear to give up.
Then poof. She, too, was gone.
He wasn’t dying. No.
He had died a long time ago.
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