Donna Steele stopped by to share her latest book release. Another Time is a story I have read front to back without stopping…it is that good! The characters, Dusty and Dee, don't know each other, but they're all they have to hold onto in this strange time. And what will their presence here mean for the future?
Blurb from Another Time
When Dusty Williams goes into a strange bar to contemplate the ruination of his career, the last thing he expects to find is a compelling woman. He’s not even in the mood to get laid. He just wants to escape from all humanity.
Dee Stevens can’t believe she’s in a bar at all. She’s just lost two patients due to drunk driving. Whatever could have drawn her into a strange bar tonight of all times?
When the two meet, and they feel that odd vibration that seems to pull them together, they have no idea what’s ahead, or behind, them and what it can mean for mankind.
Dusty nodded to a sign on one of the buildings reading “Mercantile,” and she rolled her eyes. The door opened easily so Dee followed him inside.
“Morning.” They heard the voice from the rear of the shop in response to the tinkling bell over the door.
“Now, yes sir. You’re out early this morning. How can I help . . .” The man came into sight, wiping his hands on a well-worn, white apron. He studied them both and retreated a step.
“Sorry to bother you.” Dusty took the lead. “We had an accident about a mile back that way.”
“Our car hit—”
Dusty gave Dee a quick ‘help me’ look.
“Could you tell us where we are? We’ve gotten lost somehow,” she said quickly.
The storeowner’s eyes traveled up and down her body, taking in the jeans and t-shirt. The look on his face bordered on scandalized. “You’re not from around here.”
“No, sir. Could you—”
“You’re in Braddock Crossing.”
The name meant nothing to Dusty. From her expression, the same held true for Dee.
Dee opened her mouth to ask another question when a scream came from the rear of the store. The storeowner raced to the back with Dusty and Dee only a half-step behind.
A young woman held her hand out, staring in horror at the blood dripping from a deep cut.
“Daphne!” The older man raced to the young woman but Dee moved faster, seeing a patient in need of her help. She had already rounded the counter, snatching up a clean, folded cloth. She pressed it firmly against the cut.
“Get my bag.” She tossed the words at Dusty, not bothering to look up. “You’re going to be okay,” she assured the young woman. “Let me examine your hand.”
“W-who are you?” The girl tried to shrink away but Dee had hold of her wrist.
“Let go of my girl!” The owner tried to grab Dee’s arm, but Dusty stopped him.
“She’s a doctor. Let her check the girl out.”
“A doctor? She’s a woman, and a strange one at that.”
Dusty held the man’s shoulder and inspected him closely. The man stared at Dee’s jeans and his daughter’s bloody hand with the same fascinated horror. Dusty eyed Daphne warily; the girl cowered behind the counter, weeping as Dee examined her wound.
She wore a long dark skirt and a high collared, long-sleeved white blouse. Pretty, until the blood ruined the fabric.
The shop owner’s shirt appeared to be linen and sported a high, banded collar. His large apron covered his trousers.
Had they found an Amish village? No, there wasn’t one this close to D.C. that Dusty could recall. The clothing worn by the other men on the street also looked like something out of an old photograph.
He stepped between the women and this strange man. “My name is Dustin. This is Doctor Stevens. She’s not going to hurt Daphne. What’s your name?”
At the authoritative tone of voice Dusty used, the man quit struggling to reach Daphne. “I’m Caleb Douglas. This is my store and Daphne’s my daughter.”
“Nice to meet you, Caleb. Let’s give Doctor Stevens space to check Daphne out.”
“Is she a midwife?”
“No, she’s a doctor.”
“Is she one of those suffragettes I’ve been hearin’ about? Wanting the vote and all that nonsense? What upstanding school would admit a woman for their doctorin’ program?”
Dusty gaped at Dee and she met his eyes for an instant of shock, before she returned her full attention to Daphne. Dee murmured soothing sounds to the girl, who did seem to be calming some.
“We’ve been on the road for a couple of days. Do you know the date?”
“The date? Today’s September second.”
Not what Dusty needed, though it was the date of his flight. “Do you have a calendar? I need to—”
“I’ve got an Almanac. What’s she doing to Daphne?”
“I think she’s getting the bleeding stopped. Would you mind if I checked your Almanac?”
Obviously torn, even Caleb could see Daphne was calmer. He reached behind the counter and took out a worn, soft-bound book, handing it to Dusty, not taking his eyes from the pair of women. A good thing, because Dusty knew his own eyes had gone wide.
Buy link - AMAZON
Donna writes science fiction, paranormal and small town romances about women coming into their strength and having the courage to find and accept love.
Now that she has retired from going into an office every day, she created an office at home and writes full time. Talk about living the dream!
She was the girl at the party who was yearning for the quiet corner and a book to read (go Rory Gilmore!), and has been writing in her head since she learned to read. Getting those stories down on paper (or in her laptop) has been more fun than she ever imagined it could be.
The possibilities of science fiction have always drawn her and she's read them all, there just needed to be a little more romance in them. She finally got up the courage to write them herself and is delighted to be able to share these stories with you.
She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal Chapter of RWA and the Heart of Carolina Romance Writers.