Everyone in Dahlia’s world knows when they’re going to die. Except her.

Her father has never shown her the pocket watch counting down the days she has left to live. When he sacrifices himself to save her from her scheduled death, Dahlia abandons her comfortable home and sets off after his murderer to uncover the secrets her father died to protect…and the time research that could bring him back to life.

Then she meets Farren Reed. She should hate him. He’s an enemy soldier, a cowardly deserter, and the most insufferable man Dahlia’s ever met. Still, she needs all the help she can get, and Farren is the only chance she has to find the man who murdered her father. But Farren has only twenty-seven days left on his watch.

In that time, Dahlia must recover her father’s time research, foil a psychotic general’s plot, and learn to survive in a world that will never be the same. But the research holds secrets more dangerous than she had ever imagined. She will have to choose what is most important: revenge, Farren’s life, or her own. And time is running out.

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About the Author

Kristine Kruppa is a mechanical engineer, writer, and world traveler. Her days are spent

designing cool new car parts, but her evenings are filled with writing and cats. She has traveled solo to seventeen countries on five continents. Her other hobbies include hunting for the perfect cup of coffee, exploring used book stores, and accidentally climbing mountains. To keep up with her adventures, follow Kristine on Twitter @kskruppa.

Author Links:

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• Excerpt From Chapter 1

  The sky was bright and clear on the day of Dahlia Walker’s death.

  Morning sun shone as she strode down the road, smiling and

  humming to herself. It was her eighteenth birthday. The paper bag

  tucked under her arm held a new dress for the occasion. Her steps

  clicked along the sidewalk in time to a quick, jaunty tune in her head.

  Her watch hung in its locked case around her neck.

  People streamed in and out of shops arrayed in neat lines on either

  side of the cobblestone street. Clockwork horses drew carriages

  transporting chau)eurs, ladies in ru*ed skirts, and straight-backed

  gentlemen. The occasional blue military airship patrolled overhead on

  a pleasant breeze. It was a bustling, wonderful day. A cake waited back

  at Dahlia’s house, and she knew the mechanical servants would

  already be setting out the silver and chilling the birthday champagne

  for her party.

  “Get your news! Get your daily news!” A young paperboy stood on

  the corner, brandishing copies of the Sainsbury Herald. “Anglian

  airships sighted over the Hattaran Mountains! Is Sainsbury their next

  target? Get your news, be ready!” A clockwork monkey crouched on his

  shoulder, its exposed gears whirring contentedly.

  Dahlia paid them no heed; lately the papers reported on nothing

  but the war with Anglia, and she’d just about had enough of it. Under

  her breath, she sang along to the cheerful little tune in her head.

  “Help, please!” A voice from a nearby alcove snapped the song

  away.

  A hand snatched her sleeve and Dahlia spun.

  “Let me go!” she shouted, jerking her arm back.

  An old woman, wrinkled and gray, clung to Dahlia’s carefully

  pressed blouse. Dirty hair curled in wisps around her head, and grime

  streaked her shapeless dress. Crooked yellow teeth peeked into view

  like rotting daisies. A pair of broken auto-focusing spectacles dangled

  uselessly around her neck. Dahlia coughed against the pungent smell:

  a combination of sewer water and unwashed skin.

  “Please,you’ve gotta help me,” the woman croaked, panic in her

  eyes. “Look…look at me watch!”

  The misshapen crone thrust her watch in front of Dahlia’s face. It

  took a moment for Dahlia to notice there were only three minutes left
• on it.Surprise stunned Dahlia into silence.

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