Synopsis

Can Millie survive what Time Travel Disorder has to throw at her?

Millie Richter has always admired her sister, Caitlyn, but now that her own disorder is taking effect, Millie is terrified she’ll follow in Caitlyn’s footsteps and rewrite history. The last thing Millie wants is to become a stranger in her own life, so she’s determined to do whatever she can to leave the past – and therefore the present – unchanged.

But when she finds herself face to face with her father – alive and well in the past – her perspective shifts abruptly. Millie is torn between the desire to prevent her father’s untimely death and the fear of rewriting her existence.

Then, back in the present, Zach (the gorgeous guy who lives a few floors up in her unit block) finally notices her and asks her out on a date. A psychology student, Zach is thoughtful, caring and a little damaged. Their connection is instant and electrifying, pulling Millie into a whirlwind romance she never saw coming. Now Millie has even more to lose. If she prevents her dad’s death, she’ll risk erasing her relationship with Zach.

In this heart-wrenching third installment, Millie must balance love and duty, all while grappling with the profound consequences of her choices.

Millie is the third book in The Ripple Effect series and is best read after the first two books.

Amazon

This book will be released on July 11th. Preorder your copy today  

Excerpt

When I close the front door of my unit behind me, I check my watch again. 4:05pm, which means there are exactly two hours and fifty-five minutes until my date with Zach. The closer it gets, the stronger the butterflies in my tummy become, but it feels good to be nervous about something positive for a change. I just hope I don’t time travel halfway through the date. Knowing my luck, that’s exactly what will happen.

Another two hours tick past, and the butterflies reach fever pitch. At this rate, I’ll be so nervous I won’t even be able to eat.

I wish Kayra was home so she could help me decide what to wear. A dress? Jeans and a nice top? Cleavage on display or not? I stare into my wardrobe before I finally decide on my tight black-and-white skirt and a sleeveless black top. Not too dressy, not too casual, and just a hint of cleavage.

Shower time.

I put my backpack on the floor of the bathroom, get undressed and hop into the shower. As I shave my legs, tiny hairs fall into the water, circle the drain, and then disappear. When my hands tingle and my eyesight goes hazy yet again, I sigh and pause the razor so I don’t cut myself, but then the jet noise fills my eyes and my body is pierced by knives.

Agony.

No, no, no, no, no!

I lean forward and spew as my stomach heaves.

This can’t be happening.

Water is no longer falling on me. As my eyesight clears, I see that the shower tiles have changed from white to terracotta, and in front of me is a spotty shower curtain instead of a glass door. My heart pounds as I stand up slowly and open the curtain. A towel hangs from a rack on the far wall. I grab it and wrap it around myself as quickly as my still-woozy brain will allow, then spin around when I hear a sound.

A teenage boy stands in the doorway to the bathroom, his mouth hanging open and his eyes bulging. He looks about fourteen. “Um, what the hell?” he says.

I clutch the towel to my body and try to figure out what to do. After a long pause, I stammer, “I know this is crazy-weird, but you can’t ask me anything. Please.”

His eyes bulge even more. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I’m not kidding. Please. I’m begging you, no questions. And, um, can I borrow some clothes?” My voice is high pitched with anxiety and embarrassment.

For a while, he doesn’t answer, just stares. Then finally, he gives himself a tiny shake. “Sure. Yeah. I guess.”

“Is anyone else home with you?” I ask.

“Ah, yeah. My mum. She’s in her room.”

“Can you please not tell her about me? Or anyone else?”

He shakes his head slowly. “Let me get this straight – I find you in my bathroom naked, and you don’t want me to ask any questions or tell anyone about you?”

“That’s right. Please. I know how crazy this is, believe me, I know. All I can say is this didn’t happen by choice.”

He continues to stare at me. Finally, he says, “Look, I’ll lend you some clothes, and I’ll think about keeping you a secret, but you have to answer some questions. Otherwise, no deal.” 

I sigh. I don’t really have a choice but to agree with him. “Okay. Shoot.”

“Where the hell did you come from?”

“Ah, I live down the street,” I lie. “I have episodes and wander when I’m naked sometimes without realising.”

“Bullshit.” He puts his hands on his hips. “The front door’s locked. I locked it myself about an hour ago. I don’t know how the hell you got here, but it wasn’t through the front door. You’ve got one more chance to tell me the truth, or I’m calling Mum.”

I take a deep breath and clutch the towel even tighter around me. Goosebumps prickle my skin as water drips down my back from my wet hair. I’m out of options. “Fine. I’ll tell you the truth, but you’re not going to believe me.” 

“Try me.”

“Alright. Here goes. I have a disorder that causes me to uncontrollably travel through time. A few minutes ago, I was having a shower in my own time, and then I had an episode and ended up here.”

The boy’s eyes widen until they’re as big as pancakes. Then he laughs. “You expect me to believe that?”

I give a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s the truth. Have you got a more believable explanation?”

He laughs again then scratches his chin. Shakes his head. “I’m two seconds away from calling Mum.”

“Please don’t,” I beg him, hoping he can see in my eyes how badly I mean it.

“Why not? Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because the more people who know about me, the more the past will change. That will send ripples through the decades to my time and when I go back, everything might be different.”

He shakes his head again, his eyes full of confusion and uncertainty.

“John? Who are you talking to?” a woman’s voice says from behind him.

“Nobody. Just myself. Just being a dick.” John steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. He puts his finger to his lips. I nod as relief floods through me. Looks like he’s not about to rat me out just yet. 

About the Author

Cally Jackson grew up in the small country town of Gatton. After deciding at 17 that a Hollywood acting career was sadly out of reach, Cally turned to a career in professional communication with fictional writing as her labour of love.

Cally’s passion for fictional writing first emerged in grade two when she got in trouble for penning her own tale instead of copying directly from a story book as she was supposed to be doing – it was a handwriting exercise, after all.

Cally’s first novel, The Big Smoke, was published in 2012. A decade and two children later, Cally has released her second novel, The Ripple Effect.

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