Jaunter Chronicles, 1
Bullied teenager Addy Decker has had enough of her miserable life. One night, just as she’s about to end it all, a beautiful boy appears in her bathroom, saving her life. At once intrigued and a little scared, she touches the boy and he opens her eyes to a whole different way of life. Addy finds herself in the presence of the Jaunters, a group of people on a mission to magically time travel to the past and save people at risk, as every life saved brings new life to the dead world of the future.
Addy is still wrapping her head around it all when her mom is attacked by a Hell Hound. Alongside her new companions, Addy jaunts to save her, but one of them disappears with Addy’s mom to an unknown destination. Now it’s a race against time, in every dimension, to find the rogue Hell Hound, and Addy’s mom, before a plague is unleashed that will infect the fabric of history itself.
14+ due to adult situations
Excerpt:
A sensation like ragged fingernails scuttled along the nape of her neck. She glanced around her room, and tugged the sleeves of her long-sleeved T-shirt down, covering the pink scars laddering up her left arm. Mostly out of habit. But also, because suddenly, she didn't feel alone. She looked around her bedroom. No one was there. Just her stuff—
The image of Lzzy Hale suddenly blinked back at her from the life-sized poster near the window.
She gasped. Frowning, she stepped closer to the image of her idol. Something was wrong with the poster. Lzzy’s jaw looked too angular, her cheekbones too high, and her nose too broad. Addy moved closer still, squinting. Lzzy’s skin appeared darker than it should, her eyes changed from hazel to a glacial blue. Then she blinked, and it was just Lzzy again.
And I’m seeing shit now, Addy thought as she walked into her bathroom, and shut the door. She ran a bath, water as hot as she could stand it. She read somewhere that hot water helped. The tub didn’t take long to fill.
She slipped her clothes off and got into the tub. Her right hand clutched the steak knife she’d grabbed from the kitchen. The water soothed her, and for a second or two she forgot why she was taking a bath in the first place. The agony of the past year or so stretched out like an ugly, tattered rug, festering with slimy, black mold.
Her lower lip quivered, the corners of her mouth downturned. Tears blurred her vision as she lifted the steak knife and placed the blade on her left wrist, ignoring the scars laddering up the inside of her forearm. No shallow cuts this time. No short release.
Be quick, she thought. Down the tracks, not across the road. Along the length of the arm, not across the wrist. Do it right.
Addy pressed the blade down harder, barely noticing the tiny breeze that wisped through the bathroom.
She closed her eyes, drew in a breath, and—
“Pity,” a guy’s voice said.
Addy blinked. Through the tears, she made out a dark shape sitting on the hamper near the foot of the tub. The steak knife tumbled out of her hand, and splashed into the water.
The figure didn’t look at her as it said, “You’re too beautiful to do that. It’d be a shame, really.”
A breath caught in her throat, her vision cleared enough now to see the boy. He was cast in the sunlight filtering through the small window.
She crossed her arms over her chest. Water splashed in every direction onto the floor.
“What—who are you? What are you doing in my bathroom?”
