Tia is going to die. By my hands. I mean, how would you react if your little sister’s school project had sent you stumbling back to the French Revolution?
With no way to get home?
Not a clue, a hint, a bread crumb, a damn carrier pigeon. Nothing.
Yeah, exactly. You’d kill her, too.
And now I’m having to play noble with these powdered-wig-wearing snobs and pray no one suspects me of being a witch. It’s not like 18th century France was a great time for those of us who are magically inclined.
Great, just flipping great.
Oh, my name is Keyona, by the way. I’ve been in this witching game for years, but the shit storm my sister has gotten me into…I have no idea, which means she has no idea which means I’m totally screwed.
I’m going to kill her.
Anyway, like I said, I’m Keyona, and I’m an involuntary time traveler.