About the Book
Graduate student Bree Sanders is failing the one class she needs to get her degree. So when her professor gives her an ultimatum—ace her thesis or risk having to repeat her final semester—she knows she has to pull out all the stops. After scrambling for an idea, she decides to create her own Ghost Club, a club that blames ghosts for unsolved crimes, the same type of club originally founded two centuries ago by Charles Dickens.
What she doesn’t expect is to find an original copy of one of Dickens’ early works, or to be transplanted into Dickens’s actual ghost club meeting, circa 1870, the instant she picks it up.
When Bree shows up in nineteenth-century England wearing cut-offs and an old t-shirt, her only option is to hide. The London of 1870 won’t look kindly on a woman dressed like her. So, when Theodore Keyes finds her tucked behind a bookcase at the King’s College library and immediately demands to know where she came from, she knows he doesn’t belong here either. Turns out she’s right; the same book caused him to time-travel from 1947 almost three months ago and he’s been stuck in England since.
Together, the two vow to work side-by-side in their search for the lost book that will take them home. But as their feelings for one another deepen, Theo and Bree are caught between a desire to return to the lives they each left behind, and the knowledge that if they find the book, they won’t be able to leave together.
In the end, they each must decide which sacrifice is worth making—the one that will cost them their hearts, or the one that could cost them their very existence.
Excerpt
“There has to be a way I can bring my grade up,” I say to Mr. Rimmel, the professor I’ve had at least once a year for each of the six years I’ve attended this university. I suspect he will be happy to see me and my top-notch procrastination skills walk down the hall that final time. He’s bent over his desk, writing a note in his daily planner. I might comment on his stepping into the twenty-first century by purchasing a smart phone, but sarcasm is rarely the route to getting what you want. I clear my throat. “Can I grade papers? Tutor a struggling student? Do something for extra credit?”
He keeps writing. “This is graduate school, Ms. Sanders. Not ninth grade. And from the looks of things, the only person I would suggest you tutor is yourself.”
So, he can be sarcastic, but I can’t? I bristle at criticism but force a smile into my response.
“Oh, that’s funny. I see what you’ve done there. But I’m serious. Isn’t there anything I can do? I really need to bring this grade up to an A by the end of term.”
There’s a stapler on his desk, open to reveal an empty staple deck. The box of staples sits beside it. My finger twitches at the sign of an unfinished task.
As I knew would happen, Mr. Rimmel stops writing and looks up with a marginally impatient side-eye. I’ve seen this look so many times I could draw it from memory if my drawing skills exceeded those of a second grader holding a chubby crayon, which they don’t.
“You realize the end of term is in eight weeks?”
“Yes, sir, I do.” I anticipate his next question as tension fists the side of my neck. My hand can’t help reaching up to massage the knot it creates.
“And your thesis…how is that coming?” He leans back in his chair with a tired sigh. “Because really, Ms. Sanders, that’s the best way—the only way that I can see—to raise your grade by three letters. A fantastic thesis. It’s what you’ll need. You have started yours, correct?”
My hesitation in answering is what always gets me into trouble. A better student would come to a meeting equipped with a better lie, but I am not that student. Also, someone needs to fill the stapler. I pick it up and tuck a two-inch line of staples into it, then snap the device closed and return it to the desk, looking up to find him quizzically studying me.
He pulls the stapler closer to himself and rests both hands on it as he looks at me. His expression is cautiously weary. Don’t touch my things.
Review
It seems 2021 is the year for time travel—in my reading life, at any rate. Up until this year I would have said I wasn’t a time travel reader, but this is the second time travel novel I’ve read in 2021 and it’s only March. What’s more, I really enjoyed both of them. In the case of this particular story, it probably helps that I am not only a fan of Amy Matayo’s writing but also a fan of Dickens, although I have to admit I haven’t read The Mystery of Edwin Drood, which is referenced in this book (which doesn’t particularly matter for the sake of the story).
Everything I enjoy about Amy Matayo’s novels was here—for example the sardonic humour, the chemistry between the characters—but the time travel added a whole new dimension (pun intended) for her to explore. Differences in fashions, expressions, manners, knowledge, and just the general discombobulation that can be associated with time travel are all fair game when it comes to humorous exchanges and situations, and of course, there’s the ever-present time travel dilemma of not knowing how much one action might impact the future as you knew it.
While the story doesn’t itself too seriously, it doesn’t become farcical either. It’s a fun literary adventure that has some more serious personal implications for the characters, which only made it all the easier to become invested in them. And if Theo’s voice didn’t always seem to be strictly out of the 1940s, it didn’t detract from his charm. So if you’re in the mood for a contemporary-feeling romance that’s out of the ordinary way, I’d definitely give this one a go.
I received a copy of this novel from the author. This has not influenced the content of my review, which is my honest and unbiased opinion.
About the Author
Author Amy Matayo is an excellent speaker, mathematician, seamstress, chef…and liar. She’s decent at writing books but not much else. Then again, the book thing makes her marginally cool and a whole lot intimidating.
Not really. Not even her kids are afraid of her.
She graduated with barely passing grades from John Brown University with a degree in Journalism. But she’s proud of that degree and all the ways she hasn’t put it to good use.
She laughs often, cries easily, feels deeply, and loves hard. She lives in Arkansas with her husband and four kids and is working on her next novel.
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