In three days, it would mark the anniversary of the death of Dean McCloud, a western movie star of the 70's. The coroner called it a suicide, leaving his fans disillusioned.

Tricia Lancaster, a reporter for a small time newspaper volunteered to cover the story. Even though the movie star died before she was born, she's felt a connection to him. She thought if she wrote the story, her curiosity would be satisfied and she could move on with her life.

When she's miraculously transported back in time and it's three days before Dean died, she realizes she has a chance to stop him from pulling the trigger. After meeting Dean, Tricia is convinced with his overconfident attitude he would have never killed himself.

Dean McCloud thinks Tricia is trippin' when she tells him she's from the future. However, when Tricia's predictions start coming true, Dean realizes maybe she's not a crazy chick after all.

Someone is determined to murder him and they have until the Stroke of Midnight on New Years Eve to find out who wants him dead.

REVIEW

Karen Michelle Nutt puts a different spin on fate and time travel. I'm sure we would all love to be able to go back in time and change the future. This is a groovy tale of time and fate! Not only does the story grab you at the beginning, but the reader is thrown back in the 70s and goes along for the ride. Can you dig it?

Reviewed by Ruth Schaller

Reviewed by: Ruth Schaller
ParaNormal Romance

EXCERPT

Tricia was startled awake by a loud popping sound followed by screams. She catapulted out of the chair expecting to have to take cover. Fear was replaced by confusion. The last thing she remembered was watching Dean's final performance. She looked around the crowded room wondering how she slept through the caretaker setting up for the seventies costume party. The men had long hair and side burns and the women wore dark eye shadow, flowered tops and suede boots. Tricia deducted the popping sound came from someone uncorking a champagne bottle. A woman in a tight short skirt and go-go boots was trying to pour the bubbly into two flute glasses. "Hey, do you need a beer?" "What?" She turned, seeing the Corona inches from her face before she looked up. "No, I'm ..." Her eyes widened. "I must be dreaming. Dean McCloud?"

His cocky grin spread across his face. How he loved these parties, women throwing themselves at him as if he were a god. This one was cute even in her odd attire. He loved the way her wild curls framed her pixie-like face. Tricia was convinced she was still asleep, only she never dreamt with this much clarity. "Dean?"

"That's me, Baby." She looked around her, taking in the subtle differences that made the home seem more...McCloud-like, was all she could come up with for now. Dean sat down in the chair and snaked out a hand, grabbing her arm and pulling her onto his lap. Her arms went around his neck, but that was simply preservation. It was not meant as a come on. Dean obviously thought otherwise. He smiled his eyes taking in every feature before his gaze landed on her lips. She knew the moment he decided to kiss her, his eyes turned a shade darker, and his eyelids closed halfway. Her heart pounded in her chest. She prayed if this was a dream she wouldn't wake up. Dean McCloud was going to kiss her.