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I’m very happy to welcome back Jenna Jaxon to the Mythic blog!

She’s one of six contributing authors in the steamy romance anthology “Crashing Into Love”.

Note: Giveaway:  e-copy of Only Scandal Will Do or Only Marriage Will Do (Winner’s Choice) – comment for a chance to win!!


     Take it away, Jenna!!

Crashing Through Time:  Surviving Memphis

There always seems to be a story behind the story in all the
romances I write. Crashing Through Time
is no different, except this time the story happened to me and was a little bit
more than terrifying.

This past February, around the time I started writing Crashing Through Time, my daughter and I
flew to Memphis so she could audition for the University of Memphis.  The flight out was pretty routine; the flight
home was a nightmare.

Our first leg was from Memphis to Minneapolis and it was
delayed for a couple of hours due to snow. When we finally got on the plane,
everything went fine, except our connecting flight was also delayed. At last,
we boarded, pulled away from the gate, and stopped. The captain came over the
loud speaker saying that there was a problem with one of the engines, but they
were getting maintenance out to look at it and they should know something in
about ten minutes.

Twenty minutes later, he came on and said maintenance had
just gotten there and it should be about ten minutes to determine if it could
be fixed quickly. Maybe forty minutes later he came on and said “Ladies and
gentlemen, we’re pulling back into the jetway. We’re going to have to change
planes.”

Once at the new gate, we boarded fairly quickly, took our
seats, and watched as the sun sank into the Minneapolis horizon.  We pulled away from the gate, and
stopped.  The captain came on the
intercom, a touch of “I don’t believe this,’ in his voice, saying “Folks, we’re
stopping because there is a problem with the left engine. We’ve called the
maintenance people and they’re going to run some tests and see if it’s just a computer
component or if it’s something else.”

I looked out the window to my left at the huge engine and
said to myself, “We need a new plane.” 
My daughter and I exchanged a look, then
went back to reading.

Finally, the captain came on and said, “Maintenance has
changed the component and we are good for take-off.” I really would have
preferred a new plane, but I tried to relax and held my daughter’s hand as we
taxied down the runway.  The airplane
lifted up, began to bank and immediately the cabin was filled with the smell of
something burning.

I looked at my daughter, whose eyes were huge, most of the color
having drained from her face, and said, “Do you smell that?” She nodded and I
started looking around for a flight attendant, trying not to panic.

There were no flight attendants. (My daughter later confided
to me that she thought they had all parachuted out of the plane to save
themselves.)

I looked out the window to my left at the recently ill left
engine and the one thought I had as I started saying a Hail Mary was at least
it would be a quick death.

Then the captain came on the intercom and said, “Folks,
there is nothing to be alarmed about. None of the instruments indicate any kind
of a fire. This plane came out of a hangar and had not been in use for a while,
so the odor you’re smelling is the dust and de-icer fluid burning off the
engine.  That’s all.”

We both took a deep breath and sat back in our seats. My
daughter later told me she had begun to hyper-ventilate, but didn’t tell me
because she didn’t want to upset me. The rest of the flight was uneventful,
thank God, and we arrived back safely if four hours late.



Shortly after this incident, I began to write Crashing Through Time and the first pages
of the book are based on and inspired by the very scary events my daughter and
I went through. In fact, the book is dedicated to my daughter: To Ellie: 
Because we survived Memphis
.

******************



CRASHING THROUGH TIME:

More
than hearts can be broken when you crash through time.

Corrine MacGowan survives a plane crash only to fall down
a hole in time. In 1868 Cornwall she faces the ultimate decision: Let the man
she loves die, or save him and change history forever.

Excerpt:

The first indication for Corinne MacGowan that something had
gone seriously wrong was the blue exhaust trailing from the small airplane
engine directly to her left. Through the large windows of the sightseeing
plane, she’d been avidly scanning the beautiful green fields of Cornwall some
fifteen hundred feet below her when, out the corner of her eye, she caught
sight of the dark puffs that rapidly became an ominous black stream.

Her heart gave a great thump and her body froze. Oh God! Oh
God! Adrenaline shot through her, and she wrenched her gaze from the billowing
smoke, scanning the cramped cabin to see if any of the other five passengers
had seen it. Shit. No one else had noticed a damn thing.

Corrine snapped her attention toward the cockpit. “Captain!”

The word had barely left her mouth when the harsh, insistent
beep of the alarm sounded throughout
the tiny cabin.

“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. Blue Skies T-RVR has engine
failure. Forced landing imminent. Currently two miles east of St. Agnes.
Repeat. Blue Skies…”

“Oh, my God. We’re going to crash.”

“We’re all gonna die.”

“Oh, God, oh, Jesus help me…” General shrieking dissolved
into hysterical screams, curses, and weeping.

Heart now beating like a drumroll, Corrine glanced out the
window. The beautiful green fields were now rushing toward her with a sickening
certainty.

“Assume crash positions!”

She flopped forward, butting her head on the seat in front
of her, and clutched her ankles. God, this couldn’t be happening.

Hail Mary, full of
grace, the Lord is with thee…

The alarms continued their deafening peal as the prayer ran
through her head, and she held her breath and waited for impact.

She slammed forward, hitting her head again, so hard this
time her teeth clicked despite her tightly clenched jaw. The plane bounced,
fishtailed…and began to slow.

Alive. Thank God, they were still alive. Relief washed
through her, so acute she went limp in her seat, simultaneously discovering an
urgent need to pee. Cautiously, she raised her head, the chattering and crying
all around her making it spin, although that could’ve been the result of that
last bang into the seatback. The plane continued to slow, and the black smoke
was now pouring out of the engine. Its propeller had stopped turning. Shit, it
could still blow up at any minute.

She ripped the seatbelt free and bolted for the door
directly behind her. One man was there before her, grasping the handle and
twisting it viciously back and forth. The rest of the passengers crowded her,
pushing her into the man, who still couldn’t get the damned door open.

“Ladies and gentlemen, take your seats please.” The captain
shouted over his shoulder, still wrestling with the controls. “Let the airplane
come to a complete stop!”

Corrine stared through the window at the billowing black
smoke. Fuck that. She shoved past the man in front of her and wrenched his hand
away from the handle. She grasped it, twisted it all the way up until she felt
a click then pushed.

The door popped open so fast Corrine didn’t have time to let
go. It swung away, pulling her out of the plane onto the wing over the failing
engine. Acrid smoke wafted around her, stinging her eyes and nose. She took a
breath and coughed, eyes streaming.

Fuck this.

The plane slowed drastically, though it bounced over the
rough tufts of grass fast enough to shake Corrine until her teeth rattled.
Adrenaline surged as she held her breath and jumped.


***************




Where you can find Jenna Jaxon:


Other books by Jenna:








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