A Time Traveler's Companion: The Big Reveal

 

I would like to share the inspiration behind my book, A Time Traveler's Companion. The narrative is loosely inspired by a fanfiction I wrote three years ago, titled My Immortal: The Doctor & Me, which is available on various fanfiction platforms like Wattpad, AO3, and my Fanfiction blog. The book that it is loosely based on, differs in many ways.

While I do write fanfiction under a pseudonym to maintain a clear distinction from my original works, I was prompted to reveal this connection after someone inquired about the origins of my time travel novel. 

Currently, A Time Traveler's Companion stands as the sole book derived from my fanfiction. If you haven't yet explored the fanfiction, I encourage you to check it out on Google Play, where it is presented in three parts as an audiobooks. I welcome any feedback you may have.

NOTE: A Time Traveler's Companion, the full length novel will be published on Amazon as an eBook in the coming months. 

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FLARE: Chapter 11: The Perfect Ending Excerpt

 

(This is an excerpt from my book, FLARE-Chapter 11 The Perfect Ending)

Trigger warnings: Sexual content

Cher was busy preparing a banana float for a customer, but once the customer left, she noticed Dolan sitting quietly at a table in the corner. Her brow furrowed and she let out a sigh before walking over to him and taking a seat.

"What brings you here," she asked, her eyes reflecting a hint of sadness. Seeing him brought back the heartache she felt when she saw him with Olivia in her vision.

 "I wanted to see you," he responded, feeling a sense of awkwardness. "I never received an answer from you about the people you've been associating with lately. Perhaps we could meet somewhere and talk about it."

“Dolan, I am unable to disclose that information to you. I am fully aware that I am an energy vampire, but through no fault of my own," she stressed. "Nevertheless, I am committed to preventing others from falling into the same fate as me." She gazed at him with sincerity in her eyes. His gaze was fixed on her, a mixture of concern and confusion evident in his expression. He feared that he may have made an error in turning her into an energy vampire. However, he realized that if he had chosen to end her life, he would have never experienced the joy of being with her. “Cher, I understand your frustration, but the reality is that you are now one of us, and that cannot be undone. I urge you to cease your crusade against our own kind. If the blood suckers you attacked discover that you have been targeting them, it will only lead to conflict between our kind and theirs." As his hand extended towards hers, she quickly pulled away, a clear sign of her discomfort. His expression softened as he spoke, revealing a sense of urgency in his request, “I am your maker, please I insist you visit me tonight.” Despite his plea, she avoided making eye contact, her gaze fixed on something in the distance. With a gentle touch, he guided her face to meet his, his eyes filled with determination and authority, demanding her attention. In that moment, she decided to reveal a secret that had been weighing heavily on her.

 “Do you know why I joined the Hunters in attacking the vampires?” He waited for an explanation. The truth unfolded as she explained how her cousin had fallen victim to a vampire attack, sparking a personal vendetta against the blood-sucking creatures. “My father, a diligent police officer, had been looking into a string of mysterious deaths that seemed to be vampire-related, but he believed they were the work of a deranged individual. However, I knew the truth behind those killings.” She paused and went on to explain, "Tomas, whom I had been dating for a few months, but I hadn’t yet slept with him, discovered my secret when we finally engaged in sex. He discovered I was an energy vampire when I unknowingly tried to feed on him, only to be repelled by a religious tattoo on his back. It was then that he caught a glimpse of my monstrous face. In that moment, I came to terms with what I am and the need to make amends. I begged him not to end my life, revealing that I had been turned into a creature of the night against my will. He felt sorry for me and in exchange for sparing my life, he proposed teaming up to track down other monsters, given my ability to identify them. The reason I spared Leena's life is due to a pact we made together."

 "What kind of pact?" Dolan asked. The question lingered in his mind, unsettling him. “I can’t tell you,” She paused and stood up. “Dolan go home, and I will be by tonight.” She gave him a reassuring smile. He left and later in the evening she went to his apartment. As he swung the door open, their eyes locked in a fiery gaze. The intense feeling of desire washed over them, and she sauntered into the room. They found themselves wrapped in each other's embrace once more, their bodies intertwined on Dolan's waterbed. Cher couldn't help but take note of the unconventional choice of bed, but it didn't hinder their passionate encounter.

He forcefully lifted her, positioning her legs over his shoulders, and plunged into her dripping, eager center, thrusting with unbridled intensity. They were consumed by desire and lustful moments. He implored her to arch over the bathroom counter, and he thrust into her from behind with vigor and velocity. Despite her lack of experience with anal sex, he was resolute, and she was eager to please. Gradually, he slid into her snug anus, and with delicate motions of his sizable shaft, she climaxed as he teased her clit with his fingers simultaneously. They engaged in sexual activity in various areas of his apartment, including on the breakfast table. As they reclined on Dolan’s bed in the aftermath of their intimate moment, Cher’s thoughts began to drift. She pondered her future and the harsh reality that she would never be able to have children, because she is an energy vampire. A twinge of bitterness crept into her heart as she rested her head on his chest. Listening to his slow, steady heartbeat, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was truly alive.

 “But of course he is,” she mused to herself, “he breathes just like I do. So, what sets us apart from regular humans? Perhaps it’s the fact that we can live for centuries, much like traditional vampires. However, like them, we can also be killed.” Sensing Cher’s distraction, Dolan asked, “What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Cher replied, “I was just thinking about the two of us.” He embraced her tightly, planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head. The room was filled with the melodic sounds of David Bowie's "Let's Dance" playing from the radio in the background. "Cher, please reconsider your pursuit of our kind," he pleaded, hoping for a response that never came. The silence unsettled him, causing him to question whether his life was in danger. Despite his concerns, he knew deep down that Cher would never harm him. In fact, he was certain that she harbored feelings for him, and he couldn't deny that he may have developed feelings for her as well. Throughout his centuries of existence, she was the closest he had come to finding someone who resembled his beloved late wife, Cestra. 

It had been a whole week since Dolan last laid eyes on Cher. After searching for her at her workplace with no luck, he decided to pay a visit to Maddie at her home. Standing at her front door, he patiently waited for her to invite him in, as he couldn't enter without an invitation. “Alright, you can come in,” Maddie finally relented and allowed him to enter, closing the door behind him. Dolan, with his hands in his pockets, made his way to the couch and took a seat, while Maddie settled in a recliner across from him. With a sigh, she asked, “What brings you here?” He responded, "I was hoping you might have seen Cher.”

 Maddie was taken aback by Cher's failure to inform Dolan about her weekend plans, assuming that she would share the news with him. Dolan's expression hinted at his confusion, prompting Maddie to provide an explanation for Cher's absence.

 “She went to see relatives out of state, I think she said Oregon, something like that,” she paused. “Do you want anything to drink?” Dolan declined the offer, “No, I just wanted to know if you’ve seen her.”

“I saw her two days ago,” Maddie revealed.

Maddie cautiously asked him about the status of his relationship with Cher, expressing genuine interest in their well-being. “So, how are you both doing? Is everything okay?” 

Dolan chuckled and grinned, “Define, okay?” He paused, “Besides the intimate moments, she barely opens up to me, in fact, she keeps parts of her life hidden." Maddie understands but refuses to disclose more than she already knows.

Cher doesn’t disclose much to her, especially since joining forces with the Hunters. Cher doesn’t want her to get involved. Maddie chuckled softly and said, “Did you know that they call her Flare? The Hunters gave her that nickname.” Dolan, intrigued by this revelation, raised an eyebrow in surprise.

 "Flare?" he repeated, trying to wrap his head around the unexpected moniker. Maddie simply nodded in response, a hint of concern lingering in her expression. Dolan's face took on a thoughtful expression as he took in this new information. It was clear that he was already formulating a plan on how to address the situation with Cher, showing his genuine care for her well-being.

"Thank you for sharing that with me, I appreciate it. When Cher returns, I'll ask about her nickname," he chuckled before getting up from his seat. Maddie accompanied him to the door, and as Dolan stepped outside onto the porch, he glanced back.

"Take care," he bid farewell before walking off. Maddie closed the door behind him and made her way to her bedroom. Once there, she reached for the phone and dialed the room number where Cher is staying. She is currently residing in one of the motels in Seattle, Washington. The group of Hunters are staying at the same motel, waiting for further instruction. Olivia's penthouse is the prime target, situated in a building owned by Olivia herself. Among the residents are a group of elite energy vampires, along with some regular humans. A team of more than 25 skilled hunters are prepared to eliminate the head Mistress and her followers, ensuring that no innocent lives are harmed in the process. Cher picked up the phone and answered it.

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A Time Traveler's Companion: chapter 16: The Thing About the Book

(This is a excerpt from Chapter 16: The Thing About the Book--A Time Traveler's Companion.)

“Remi, I didn’t notice that you came in. I thought I heard the front door earlier and assumed you had left. Did you go out?” 

“Actually, I went hiking with Leila,” I lied. The truth is I was having lunch with Mr. Smith. 

“Oh, I thought Leila was working today?” my mom asked.

“She had a schedule change,” I replied, continuing the deception. “Sweetheart, I’m really sorry,” she said, taking a breath. “I didn’t mean to upset you, and you were right; I shouldn’t have looked in your diary.”

I gave her a soft smile. “It’s okay mom, let’s just forget about it,” I responded, and accepted her apology. She mentioned that she had the day off and asked if I wanted to join her for some shopping. I smiled and agreed. We headed out and I made a stop at that nearby thrift store, where I had spotted Tracy’s granddaughter assisting a customer and once, she finished, I approached her. 

“Hi, I’m not sure if you remember me, but—”

She cut me off, saying, “Of course, you’re the girl who bought the book!” I nodded in acknowledgment and asked, “Do you know where the author lives now?”

 "My grandmother passed away in the early 2000s," she disclosed, leaving me momentarily stunned.

 "Oh, I'm really sorry to hear that," I replied, feeling a wave of sympathy. "It's alright; my mom often shared tales of my grandmother's escapades with her time traveller,” she fingered quoted and smiled, “I'm glad you enjoyed the book," she continued, and my heart sank. The revelation hit me hard, not only was Tracy gone, but she had travelled with Mr. Smith at some point in the past. The realization was painful, and I felt a deep sense of loss, my heart sank. I left the shop, seeking comfort in the familiar spot where I had first spoke to Melanie, where my mom was waiting for me now. "What’s wrong?" My mom sensed the sorrow etched on my face.

 "It's nothing," I lied to her, but her gaze pierced through my facade. Leaning against her, I fought back tears that threatened to spill.

  "Sweetheart, it can't be as terrible as it seems." I inhaled deeply and straightened up.

  "Let's head home; our soap opera will be starting soon," I suggested, hiding the ache within. As we settled in to watch our beloved soap, my thoughts drifted elsewhere, haunted by the words Tracy's granddaughter had shared with me. I headed upstairs and took a shower, feeling my face heat up. Once in my room, I plopped down on my bed and picked up the book, flipping through the pages. I hit a section where Tracy perfectly detailed Mr. Smith’s bedroom, and my heart sank. That’s when I noticed the monolith materializing in my room. Tears started rolling down my face as a mix of anger and pain bubbled up inside me. When Mr. Smith stepped out, he noticed how upset I was. “Remi, what’s wrong?” I was sprawled on my bed, face buried in my pillow. 

He sat beside me and gently rubbed my back, trying to soothe me. I shot him a glare before turning away and hiding my face again. He seemed puzzled, not grasping my behavior, until I reached over to my nightstand where I placed the book and tossed it at him. He glanced at the back where Tracy’s photo was, and with a simple, “Oh,” I knew he finally understood what had happened.  

"Why did she go on trips with you? You slept with her, didn't you!" I shouted, my anger boiling over.

He sighed deeply, "I'm sorry, Remi. I did take her on a couple of trips, but I didn't sleep with her. When she joined me, she was already married and had a child."

“How did you manage to contact her?” I asked, my voice laced with suspicion as tears streamed down my cheeks.

 “I provided her with a phone, much like yours,” he said. “Why would you do that?” I pressed.

 “When we first ran into her, she said she wanted to tag along on our adventures, but I could see you were a bit jealous. So, after we dropped her off and I took you home, I headed back to 1969, where I thought it’d be fun to take Tracy on a little trip, and I took her to…” I interjected, “Tarislee?” my voice laced with a hint of accusation and sarcasm. He looked at me with a smile and planted a kiss on my forehead. “No, my love, I took her to the Century 21 Exposition World’s Fair in Seattle back in the 1950s.”

My brow furrowed, I shot back, laced with sarcasm, “So why haven’t you taken me to any of the world’s fairs?” He let out a soft sigh, taking my hand and planting a gentle kiss on it. “I promise, I will—maybe next time.” 

  “Did you take her anywhere else?” I asked, wiping tears from my eyes. He gulped and responded, “Yes, Tracy had a passion for time travel and often shared how much she wished you could accompany us. She truly loved you, Remi."
“How? She barely knew me,” I thought to myself.

"Please, continue,” I said.

 "Eventually, she contacted me in her late 30s, excited about the idea of one final adventure together. I had no idea she was chronicling our experiences in a book." He paused briefly before adding, "I have strong feelings for you, but it pains me that you kept your friendship with Melanie hidden from me." I took a deep breath, though traces of anger remained. Reflecting on his words, I came to understand that we had both, in our own way, let each other down. I kept quiet about Melanie, and he never mentioned his time-traveling adventures with Tracy, so we were on equal footing. "Alright, I guess that makes us even,” I said. He gently turned my face to look into his eyes.

 “Remi, did Melanie share anything else with you?” I took a deep breath and replied, “No,” knowing I was being dishonest. He let out a sigh, flashed a smile, and nodded, “Alright, Butterfly.” I kept to myself the fact that Melanie had revealed his true name.

 “From now on, let’s promise to be completely honest with one another,” he said as I sat up straight.

He wrapped his arm around me and continued, "I want to avoid repeating the mistakes I made with Melanie. I truly love you; my feelings for you have deepened, and my heart is yours, just as yours is mine." I nodded and he held me firmly in his arms. “Tracy’s granddaughter mentioned to me that she passed away in the early 2000s. Were you aware of that?”

He sighed deeply, “Yes, the AI had actually informed me well in advance that Tracy would succumb to an aneurysm and recommended that I take her on some trips to show kindness.” Hearing this made me feel a pang of sadness for Tracy. I sighed.

  “I understand,” I replied, reflecting on whether I should have made more of an effort to connect with her. He left after spending some time with me and around seven o'clock in the evening the doorbell rang just as I stepped into the living room from downstairs. I went to answer it, and to my surprise, it was Mr. Smith standing there. I couldn't help but smile, my jaw dropping in shock.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, noticing the way he looked at me with such affection. He was wearing a dark brown leather jacket over a crisp white shirt, complemented by jeans and a black belt, with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Just then, my mom appeared behind me, raising an eyebrow.

 "Oh, Mr. Smith, what brings you here?" she asked, her tone a bit wary. 

“I came by for a visit,” he replied. He strolled in, handing my mom the flowers. He discreetly winked at me. We sat down in the Livingroom. I found myself reminiscing about the intimate moments we had shared, a soft blush creeping onto my cheeks. It appears he caught onto my thoughts because he gave me a subtle smile. The glance he shot my way didn’t go unnoticed by my mom. She shifted in her seat; her forehead creased with a bit of confusion. As she took a sip from her mug, her eyes darted between us, filled with suspicion. Now that she knows I am having sex, she’s eyeing every guy who I talk to as being the one who I am dating, and honestly, she’s not far off this time.

 “Your dad will be here soon. He was working late. When he comes, we will have dinner. Would you like to stay for dinner Mr. Smith?” she asked.

  “Yes, I would love to,” he responded and glanced at me with a smile. He did not want to create suspicion, especially since my mom was on high alert now, wanting to find the person who deflowered me. I gulped. A few minutes later my dad arrived home. “Look who’s here Robert?” Mr. Smith stood up from the sofa and shook his hand.

 “You’re that teacher from the college, right?” Mr. Smith nodded. We all headed to the dining room for dinner. Tim, my stepbrother, was the last to make it down. He shot a wary look at Mr. Smith and then glanced at me, like he had an inkling of what I was hiding. “Does he know?” I pondered. After a nice dinner, Mr. Smith said his goodbyes. “I’m sorry, but I must head out. Thanks for the lovely dinner, Mrs. Lucan,” he remarked, taking my mom's hand and giving it a kiss, making her blush. My dad shot him a curious look. Mr. Smith shook my dad's hand and then left. I know he will head to the monolith, which is probably cloaked somewhere at the park. It will appear in my room later, I’m sure. Night fell and everyone was asleep, As Mr. Smith enveloped me in his warm embrace, we surrendered to the gentle pull of slumber. There’s something undeniably enchanting about the way he holds me close, a tender gesture that fills my heart with joy. The thought of being without his comforting presence is simply unimaginable, for his arms are my sanctuary, a haven of romance where dreams intertwine. As the sun peeked through the curtains, I slipped into my work clothes, ready to tackle the day. 

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A Time Traveler's Companion: Excerpt-Chapter 20: The AI & Me

 

Mr. Smith's face changed and instantly he yelled, “Run!” He snatched the urn, feeling a surge of electricity that almost knocked him off his feet, but he fought hard to stay upright. I dashed toward the exit, with the android hot on our heels as we sprinted through the tunnel. It fired its weapon at us several times, but each shot went wide. "Is it possible for you to teleport the monolith into the tunnels?" he asked the AI.

Our breaths matched the frantic pace of our racing hearts, a shared panic settled as we realized the danger we were in. The monolith appeared a few yards away, however as we neared, I suddenly felt a searing blast go through me, like fire consuming my very body. The next thing I remember is waking up in the infirmary. I scanned my surroundings and realized that I was wrapped in that peculiar bio-skin substance, akin to the one Mr. Smith had instructed me to apply to his body when he was injured back in the 1930s. 

I felt completely immobilized, as if I were frozen in place, yet I could still speak and shift my gaze. I shut my eyes, attempting to piece together the events that led me here. “Are you having trouble recalling what transpired?” the AI asked.

 “Yes, could you please explain what happened?” My voice came out faint and fragile. The AI began to reveal the events on the holographic screen above me. It appeared that the AI had been capturing nearly everything occurring around and within the monolith, which unsettled me. I watched as Mr. Smith, and I raced through the tunnels. Just as we approached the monolith, a sudden jolt of pain shot through my back, courtesy of the android's weapon. The impact was overwhelming. Mr. Smith quickly yanked me inside, and in an instant, the monolith disappeared. I found myself lying on the operating table in the infirmary, blood seeping from my wound. Mr. Smith looked terrified, his eyes brimming with tears. “Can you save her?” he asked the AI, his voice trembling with dread.

“Yes, but she will need to undergo the same procedure you have experienced each time you were gravely injured,” It paused, “Maybe it’s time to consider letting her go, and possess her body,” it stated bluntly. Mr. Smith’s face turned crimson, “How could you even propose that?” he shouted, his anger palpable. “I already have a new body prepared, just in case this one dies.” 

He exhaled deeply, his voice firm as he commanded, “Make her better.” I appeared lifeless, which was hardly surprising given that I was teetering on the edge of death once again. He exited the room, and suddenly, a brilliant light enveloped my body. High-tech medical devices descended from the ceiling, beginning the intricate process of mending the wound in my abdomen, where the blaster burned right through me. I observed as the AI worked, injecting nanites into my body that swiftly mended my injury. They resemble tiny mites, bustling around and fixing the damaged tissue. The holo-screen turned off. I closed my eyes; I believe I was unconscious again. An unexpected memory surged into my mind-I recall having a face-to-face conversation with the AI. It was in its true form, it appeared as a black humanoid figure, akin to a mannequin yet possessing the fluidity of human movement. 

Its eyes were mere slits, glowing with an eerie crimson light. It loomed in front of me as we stood face to face within the wall of the monolith. 

"How can I be here while my body is there?" I questioned, my voice trembling as I gazed at it in terror. "Am I... dead?" I asked. It came closer, moving deliberately as it extended a hand toward my cheek. I instinctively recoiled. As it shifted, the AI's movements echoed those of the android from Terminator 2, particularly the police officer in his authentic state. Upon closer inspection, the AI’s skin resembled a dark liquid, shifting and flowing as it changed position. However, there was an unsettling shadow, a foreboding presence surrounding the AI that sent a shiver down my spine. 

“No, you are not dead, I brought your mind to this place while your body undergoes repair,” it replied.

“Are you really female?” I asked.

“Absolutely, I can be whatever he desires. Since he wished for me to embody Melanie’s image, I appear as her on occasion,” it paused then added, “Eventually, I will take on your likeness, one day.” Its words sent a chill through me, but I managed to ask, “What makes you say that?”

“Do you not grasp the situation? You won't live forever, but he will and when your time comes, your very essence will merge within these walls. Just like what occurred with Melanie, the woman whose body Ona now possesses.” Hearing this from the AI left me in a state of shock and fear. "Let me out of here at once," I insisted. I pressed my hands against the dark glass. Mr. Smith walked into the infirmary, and he stood over my body. I banged on the surface of the glass wall, but he couldn't hear my cries for help.

 “Mr. Smith, please help me! I’m stuck in here,” I shouted. The AI hovered closely behind me, its fingers brushing through my hair with an odd sense of curiosity. “It appears he’s more taken with you than I thought,” the AI remarked. I instinctively moved away from it. In an instant, I found myself back in my own body. Mr. Smith had just stepped out of the room as my eyes shot open, I gasped for air. I was staring up at the ceiling in confusion. Hours passed, and as my body regained strength, I noticed that the bio-skin substance had melded seamlessly into my own skin. Mr. Smith entered and gently lifted me, carrying me to his room for some much-needed rest. “Remi, I promise to take you home after our final adventure. We’re heading to the 1800s, but for now, just rest my love,” he said, kissing me deeply and covering my naked body with the soft, comforting sheets.

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Excerpt from Chapter 6

Remi & Mr. Smith in the 1930s

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A New Face Chapter 1 excerpt

A Time Traveler's Companion: Excerpt from Chapter 6: Another Companion Before Me

 

An excerpt from  A Time Traveler's Companion

(Leila and Remi are at a local Thrift shop when Remi comes across a peculiar photograph on the wall of the shop)

The following day, Leila and I decided to hit up the nearby shopping center, which features a Staters Bros market along with a few cute boutiques to check out. I was particularly excited about a thrift store that had just opened a few months back, so I made sure to swing by. While Leila and I were browsing through the aisles, I spotted some pictures hanging on the wall. They were up for sale, and a few of them had that charming vintage vibe that really caught my eye.

 “Wow, look Leila, these pictures look totally vintage.” Leila was browsing the clothes racks. I closely looked at a picture that was from Woodstock and reminisced when Mr. Smith and I attended.

 “It seems like yesterday, oh wait it was,” I thought and chuckled softly. However, as I inspected the picture, I noticed something familiar.

 “Oh shit,” I whispered.

 “Who took this picture?” I asked.
“Well, no one knows but I suppose a random photographer who attended the Woodstock event in 1969,” the shop owner said as she surprised me by approaching from behind. "Sorry for startling you," she commented. I shook my head, "No problem, I am captivated by this picture. How much?”

 "Well, most of the vintage pictures here are priced at $80.00, but I can offer it to you for $50.00" With a sigh, I reluctantly agreed, “Okay.” Desperate to conceal my time-traveling escapades at any cost, I was willing to part with fifty dollars, knowing full well that no one would ever suspect the truth behind an innocuous old photograph. Taking down the eight by ten photo from the wall, she examined it closely. "Interesting, the girl in the photo kinda looks like you," she commented nonchalantly. "I guess everyone has a doppelgänger," she added, shrugging it off with a smile.  

"Yeah, probably," I replied with a smile, momentarily lost for words feeling speechless as I stared at the image that froze a tender moment between me and Mr. Smith capturing the passionate kiss he had planted on my lips. After a quick transaction, she carefully slid the picture into a bag, which I promptly tucked into my backpack, the best I could.

"Have you found anything interesting?" Leila asked. "Not really, what about you?" I asked her, noticing a cute hippie-style tunic shirt in her hand that seemed familiar. A sudden realization struck me.

 "Oh no, it can’t be. That belongs to Tracy," I thought to myself.

 "That's a lovely boho tunic blouse," I commented with a nervous tone.

 "Yes, it is. It belonged to my grandmother," the shop owner revealed, leaving me in awe.

"Was your grandmother at Woodstock?" I asked, intrigued. She nodded as she proceeded to ring up Leila's item. "Yes, she was. She always told me stories about her time at Woodstock and a story about a peculiar journey she had with an actual time traveler and his young bride," she shared, causing my eyes to widen in disbelief. “In fact, she wrote a book about it, but it didn’t quite make best seller, however she did sell a few copies. I have a copy of it on the bookshelf, let me go get it." Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, a testament to my nervousness as I anticipated the contents of the book. When she returned, she handed it to me - an old book with yellow pages and a picture of the author, Tracy Richards, on the back. I recognized her by her distinct, beautiful eyes. “Her last name is Richards, it's probably her married name,” I thought.

"Do you want it?" she asked, to which I simply nodded. Later, Leila and I found ourselves seated on a bench at the outdoor mall's quad area.

 "Can I take a look at that book?" Leila asked. Passing her the book, she responded with a scoff, "The Time Traveler and His Bride," reading the title aloud. "Well, with a title like that, it's no wonder it didn't make it to the best seller list, but I do like the romantic cover image," she remarked.

"So, how's your job?" I asked, shifting the conversation. She returned the book to me, and I promptly stashed it in my backpack. “It’s fine but well, my boyfriend he’s been a bit distant lately. I wanted to talk to you about it. I tried texting you, but you never responded. Where were you anyways? I was thinking of calling your house to see where you were, but I figured no one was home,” she said. My heart raced as the thought of her calling my house crossed my mind, knowing my parents could’ve caught me in a lie. It's a challenge to keep Mr. Smith a secret, especially from Leila, who has a knack for uncovering the truth. Contemplating whether to confide in her, I weighed the risk of adding another person to the list of those who could potentially expose my secret. With a heavy heart, I let out a sigh. We decided to go get lunch at Burrito Place. Following our meal, we took a stroll back to the quad. We were deep in conversation when I noticed the mysterious woman with sandy blonde curls pass by; she turned and offered me a friendly smile.

 "Do you know her?" Leila asked, to which I simply shook my head in response. Leila and I sat on a wooden bench at the center of the quad, we chatted and then Leila excused herself to go to the restroom. I waited for her to come back, absorbing the peaceful scenery. The soft wind danced through the leaves of the trees, creating a tranquil ambiance around me. Suddenly, the mysterious woman approached me, taking a seat beside me. My heart skipped a beat as I tried to compose myself. "Hello, we've never met, but we have a mutual acquaintance in Mr. Smith," she said calmly. She didn’t sound like Mr. Smith at all; instead, her voice had an American tone with a hint of a country twang. I was caught off guard by her surprising introduction, my eyes going wide in disbelief. As I studied her appearance, I couldn't help but notice the details of her outfit.

 She wore a stylish brown leather vest adorned with zippers, paired with an off-white cotton blouse with rolled-up sleeves that reached her elbows. Her faded button-front jeans and black flat-heeled boots completed the casual yet chic ensemble. The mysterious woman exuded an air of confidence and intrigue, leaving me curious about her connection to Mr. Smith. "Yes, I understand that this may be overwhelming, but I assure you, I have no ill intentions towards you," she stated calmly as I distanced myself from her, creating a physical barrier by placing my backpack between us. I finally asked, "Who are you and how do you know him?"

"I used to be his companion long ago," she revealed, leaving me speechless and unable to articulate the myriads of emotions swirling within me. My name is Melanie, at least in this current body I am," she added, meeting my gaze with intensity. She shook my hand, and my throat felt dry as I struggled to comprehend her words.

"This body?" I managed to utter. Melanie nodded in response, prompting me to take a deep breath before asking, "What exactly do you mean by that?"

 "Mr. Smith must have shared some details with you," she continued, and I nodded in confirmation. I know he told me that he took a man’s body, but this was something different. "We were partners in a distant past, inhabiting human bodies as we traversed through time and space," Melanie explained, causing my heart to ache with the realization that he had kept this significant part of his life hidden from me but to be fair, he just didn’t reveal it to me, he was afraid that I would reject him, and I probably would’ve. 

You can’t imagine how much it hurt me knowing that Melanie was his first companion. Overwhelmed with a mix of emotions, I hesitated and asked, "What happened between you two?" Although a part of me dreaded the answer, I needed to know the truth behind their shared history. “Did he ever change his body?” It was a stupid question, but I had to ask.

 "To the best of my knowledge, he is currently in his first body, as I am," she said, glancing nervously around, clearly hoping to avoid being seen with me by anyone, especially a particular individual I suspect. I couldn't help but wonder about the potential consequences if Mr. Smith were to find out - would he resort to violence or simply sever all ties with me. The uncertainty weighed heavily on my mind as I let out a sigh. "I made the decision to part ways with him due to irreconcilable differences," she finally confessed, her fingers absentmindedly toying with a thick leather bracelet that seemed to hold more significance than just a piece of jewelry. In the middle of her wristband, there was a watch; it reminded me of Mr. Smith’s watch.

“Mr. Smith found this body for me, and here I am. I have no plans to transfer into another body if this one should die," she explained. I gazed at her skeptically. She then stared sincerely into my eyes and said, "I would like you to be my companion. Let's travel together, it will be fun," she proposed enthusiastically, catching me off guard. I was shocked that she offered to take me with her, but I don’t trust her. However, the knowledge she has about Mr. Smith might prove useful and I want to know more about him, more than what he would ever tell me. I gulped and said, “I don’t know if I should come with you, but I’ll think about it,” I told her.

 She nodded, “Okay, you do that, in the meantime if I were you, I would get on birth control.” Rising to her feet, she prepared to depart. "Hold on a sec, what are you saying? I can't come out pregnant, he’s an alien, we are of a different species." She chuckled and set her arms akimbo.

  "Oh Birdie, you're so naive." Leaning down, she planted a kiss on my forehead. "Just be careful," she advised me, her gaze filled with sincerity. She really seemed concerned about me. I was slightly offended by her comment. “I’m not naïve,” I thought, but deep down, she had a point. I should been on birth control. Leila's face shifted to a serious look as she approached me, her gaze locked on Melanie walking away. 

"Who is that? Do you know her?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. Sensing the gravity of the situation, I suggested that we continue the conversation in a more private setting. "There's something I want to talk to you about. We should go to my house because this is going to take a while," I said. We drove back to my place; it was then that I told Leila everything.

A Trip to 1976

A Time Traveler’s Companion 

Excerpt from Chapter 20: The AI & Me

A Time Traveler's Companion: Remi and Mr. Smith Visit the 1930s

 

(An excerpt from A Time Traveler's Companion chapter 13 .Trigger warning: Sexual content)

After our steamy encounter, we decided to get dressed up in 1930s outfits. He was dressed in a pair of brown trousers that had a relaxed fit, paired with sleek black suspenders and a coordinating blazer. Underneath, he wore a sharp white button-up shirt, and to add a touch of flair, he had a handkerchief neatly placed in the left pocket of his blazer. To finish off his outfit, he sported a fashionable hat reminiscent of the 1930s, which really tied the whole look together perfectly. My ensemble features a crisp white button-up blouse for women, with the sleeves casually rolled up about a quarter of the way. I’ve paired it with a stylish brown vest and some tailored slacks held up by suspenders. To complete the look, I’m wearing elegant black pumps that have that classic 1930s vibe and gold dangle earrings. 

He assisted me in getting my hair done in that classic 1930s style, just like the glamorous women of that era. Then, he handed me a tube of red lipstick and said, “You should wear this.” I applied it, and when he saw me, his face lit up with a smile, and he leaned in to give me a kiss. “Beautiful,” he said, clearly impressed.

We totally rocked those brown outfits, looking like the ultimate duo. The monolith is a treasure trove of clothing from all sorts of eras, offering a wild mix of styles. It can whip up anything Mr. Smith dreams up. He described the monolith as a massive AI computer, capable of creating 3D replicas from any time in history.

 “Wow, I can’t believe we are here,” I said as I stepped out of the monolith and looked around.

  “Mr. Smith, where are we?” He lightly chuckled and said, “You still call me Mr. Smith, I find that adorable.” I blushed as he took my hand in his.

 "We are in Los Angeles," he remarked. I turned around, only to realize that the monolith had vanished from view.

 "I can’t believe this is Los Angeles!" I exclaimed, absorbing the vibrant surroundings.

  "What makes you say that?" he asked, curiously.

 "It's simply astonishing," I replied, with wide eyes and added, “It’s not like the Los Angeles that I know, it’s different, newer I guess.” The bustling crowd, the pristine streets, and the architecture of it struck me as a stark contrast to the Los Angeles I was familiar with. My great-grandmother experienced this time and witnessing it through my perspective, captivates him. He enjoys seeing the excitement on my face when we go on our adventures. He can tell that I'm genuinely impressed, kind of like how a guy with a flashy car knows it’ll catch the attention of women. But honestly, what I feel is way beyond just being impressed by a car. Going on adventures with Zyrius, aka Mr. Smith, is an experience that’s both deep and thrilling. 

"What month is it?” I asked. 

“July 20^th, 1936,” he responded. A captivating woman walked by, flashing him a teasing smile that caught his attention. I pursed my lips and shot her a disapproving glare. Mr. Smith turned to acknowledge her with a nod, but soon his gaze fell on my sour expression. He drew me in closer and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, which brought a smile to my face. 

“You look so cute when you’re jealous,” he remarked, his grin widening. The monolith was parked in a nearby alley; it cloaked itself to keep hidden from prying eyes. We paused in front of a theater, scanning the marquee to see what films were currently showing. “Trapped by Television, maybe we can come and see this movie later,” he suggested and gave me a smile, placing his arm around my waist, he waved down a taxi. I noticed him fiddling with his ring as we sat in the back seat. A thought occurred to me, I should’ve asked Melanie about the ring and the origin of it. The taxi dropped us off at a nice hotel. 

“Thank you, sir, here’s extra for your troubles,” Mr. Smith gave him a handsome tip. The man gave us a warm smile and a slight nod of his head. As we entered the hotel, Mr. Smith took charge of the check-in process. “We’ll be staying for two nights, allowing us to soak in the charm of the 1930s during our visit,” he remarked, while the receptionist handed him the room key. The bellboy, eager to assist, asked, “Sir, do you have any luggage?” To which he replied, “No,” before generously tipping the bellboy, who accepted it with a puzzled yet grateful grin. With that, we made our way to the elevator and to our room. Time traveling feels incredibly surreal, and I can't express how thankful I am to have crossed paths with Mr. Smith; he has opened my eyes to so many new experiences. The walls in the room are painted in a soothing olive-green color, complemented by a charming white wooden trim that runs along the rounded edges near the ceiling, halting just above the windows. The windows themselves are dressed in elegant gold and olive-green floral curtains, layered with delicate white lace curtains that provide a touch of privacy. The room is furnished with two cozy chairs, a quaint breakfast table, and a full-size bed that features matching covers, echoing the lovely pattern of the curtains. I sat on the bed. 

Mr. Smith put a DO NOT DISTURB sign on the doorknob, looked at me and winked with a flirtatious smile playing on his lips. "Remi, we have a little while before the movie starts," he said, his voice dripping with a playful allure. He settled beside me, and I met his gaze with a teasing glance, my heart racing with anticipation. I stole a quick glance at the clock; it was 4:30 PM, and the world outside felt distant, leaving us with ample time to indulge in our desires. With a casual flick, he removed his hat and sauntered over to the breakfast table, placing it down with a deliberate slowness. As he began to shed his clothes, I followed suit. The curtains were drawn tight, and the door was securely locked, enveloping us in a cocoon of intimacy where only our shared breaths and whispered secrets existed. He enveloped me in his strong embrace, my legs instinctively encircling his waist as he lifted me effortlessly. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, and he carefully lowered me onto the soft bed, his breath warm against my skin as he whispered, “Remi, you’re so beautiful.” His lips trailed a tantalizing path along my neck, descending slowly to my breasts, where he lavished attention on my sensitive nipples. With a playful flick of his tongue, he teased and nibbled, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me as I tangled my fingers in his hair, lost in the moment. The moment I learned that Leila had successfully delivered the birth control pills, a wave of relief washed over me, freeing me from the burden of worry. Logically, I reasoned that if he belonged to a different species, the likelihood of pregnancy should be virtually nonexistent. Yet, Melanie's cautionary words lingered in my mind, “Birdie, since Mr. Smith is in human form, there's a chance you could actually get pregnant.” She had shared this insight during one of our meals at a quaint 1950s Diner in Anaheim California, a trip in time that we took while Mr. Smith was away for a few days. The weight of her statement resonated deeply, ultimately influencing my decision to start taking the Pill. As Mr. Smith moved down toward my pelvic region, my heart skipped a beat, his tongue caressed my throbbing core, sliding his tongue in and out, wiggling it at the tip of my clit, making me moan vociferously.

_________________________________________________________

(Due to the content, I skipped to the part below)

The next day, we made our way to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, a stunning architectural marvel situated on Wilshire Boulevard. My previous visit had been during a high school field trip, so the memories came flooding back as I stepped inside. It looked a little different than what I remember. Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to Mr. Smith, and asked, “Why are we here?”

With a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, he responded, “There’s something here that I must acquire.” As we wandered through the museum, we immersed ourselves in the captivating displays of artifacts, vibrant paintings, and exquisite antique jewelry, each piece telling its own unique story. I stumbled upon this gorgeous brooch that was crafted from gold, featuring a brilliant sapphire right in the middle, about the size of a quarter, and encircled by a ring of sparkling diamonds. The design resembled a beautiful flower, and I was completely captivated by its sheer elegance. Mr. Smith, noticing the admiration in my gaze, turned to me and said, “Remi, I promise that one day I’ll gift you a gorgeous pendant.” My heart skipped a beat, and a gentle smile spread across my face. “Tonight, when this place closes, we’re going to come back,” he whispered.

A wave of confusion washed over me as I studied his expression, but it quickly dawned on me that he was plotting to snatch the brooch. My heart raced, and I felt my eyes grow wide with alarm as I scanned the room, anxiety creeping in. As we inched back toward the wall, I couldn't help but scan the crowd with a mix of anxiety and curiosity. They seemed completely absorbed in the stunning artifacts displayed in the shiny glass cases, completely unaware of my unease. He stayed totally cool, radiating a chill confidence that suggested nothing could throw him off balance.

 The next day, we made our way to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, a stunning architectural marvel situated on Wilshire Boulevard. My previous visit had been during a high school field trip, so the memories came flooding back as I stepped inside. It looked a little different than what I remember. Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to Mr. Smith, and asked, “Why are we here?”

With a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, he responded, “There’s something here that I must acquire.” As we wandered through the museum, we immersed ourselves in the captivating displays of artifacts, vibrant paintings, and exquisite antique jewelry, each piece telling its own unique story. I stumbled upon this gorgeous brooch that was crafted from gold, featuring a brilliant sapphire right in the middle, about the size of a quarter, and encircled by a ring of sparkling diamonds. The design resembled a beautiful flower, and I was completely captivated by its sheer elegance. Mr. Smith, noticing the admiration in my gaze, turned to me and said, “Remi, I promise that one day I’ll gift you a gorgeous pendant.” My heart skipped a beat, and a gentle smile spread across my face. “Tonight, when this place closes, we’re going to come back,” he whispered.

A wave of confusion washed over me as I studied his expression, but it quickly dawned on me that he was plotting to snatch the brooch. My heart raced, and I felt my eyes grow wide with alarm as I scanned the room, anxiety creeping in. As we inched back toward the wall, I couldn't help but scan the crowd with a mix of anxiety and curiosity. They seemed completely absorbed in the stunning artifacts displayed in the shiny glass cases, completely unaware of my unease. He stayed totally cool, radiating a chill confidence that suggested nothing could throw him off balance.

 "So, what's our plan for stealing that?" I whispered, a bit sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping in. Mr. Smith leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead, smiling as he said, “You’re absolutely adorable.” He then locked eyes with me, his expression serious yet warm, and continued, “I’ll explain everything once we’re back in our room.” He lightly traced his finger along the surface of his ring before taking my hand, guiding me into another room that was completely empty; save for the artwork adorning the walls. There, the monolith loomed, seamlessly merging with its surroundings, almost camouflaged among the exhibits. Anyone who happened to catch sight of it would likely assume it was just another piece of the collection, blending effortlessly into the curated space. My breath caught in my throat as I exclaimed, “Oh my god, what if someone sees us?” My voice trembled with anxiety. He simply shook his head, reassuring me as we stepped into the monolith, which then vanished, transporting us back to our hotel room. A wave of nerves washed over me as I contemplated the heist ahead. 

“Remi, my love, don’t fret; I’ll guide you through my methods,” he promised, and while I nodded in response, a lingering sense of uncertainty still gnawed at me. “Mr. Smith, why do you need to steal it?" It was a valid inquiry, yet somewhat simplistic. He let out a derisive laugh, responding, "Butterfly, a client from the year 2203 has commissioned me for it. They intend to purchase it from me, and since I possess the ability to traverse time, I often explore various periods to acquire specific artifacts. I ensure to substitute the brooch with a replica generated by the AI within the monolith, so the original items remain undetected as missing," he explained with an air of nonchalance. "Well, I guess. It is the 1930s, a time when high-tech devices for verifying authenticity simply don't exist," I remarked. He chuckled and shook his head, adding, "No need to fret about that; the AI is the pinnacle of high-tech innovation you could ask for," he quipped, giving me a playful wink. It was clear that he was no stranger to ventures like this one; perhaps Melanie had already caught wind of his unusual pursuits. With a resigned sigh, I nodded in agreement. Later in the evening we stepped into the monolith and dressed in the black fitted jumpsuits. The monolith appeared inside the museum after closing. There is a security guard that walks the hallways but with the help of the AI, Mr. Smith can pinpoint his location.

Chapter 1 Excerpt

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