|Whisper of Time.|
Today's guest interview is with Gwynn Powell, from the book The Whisper of Time, by Ute Carbone. We'll start with a bit about the book, look at an excerpt, and jump straight into the interview from there.
Book title: The Whisper of Time
Author: Ute Carbone
Genre: Time Travel Romance
Publisher: Whispers Publishing
Cover artist: Elaina
Length: 67 pages
Heat rating: Sweet/Sensual
Tagline: Love Beyond the Bonds of Time
Blurb: When fate offers Gwynn Powell a chance to start over, she jumps at the chance. Laid off and living with a husband whose gambling problem has eaten through a good part of their savings, Gwynn buys a farmhouse sight unseen, leaving both her marriage and her old home behind.
But fate has more in mind for Gwynn than just a new home. The farmhouse, tucked away in the Green Mountains of Vermont where even GPS can’t find it, is also a step back in time. And Slate Peck, the farm’s caretaker and part owner, is tied to Gwynn’s destiny in ways she never expected.
What are your main characters' names, ages, and occupations?
Gwynn Powell, 28, veterinarian, Slate Peck, 28, farmer
It figured that I would get lost. Kyle was always telling me I had a terrible sense of direction. “Turn left,” I would say, and he would answer “Which left, Gwynn, yours or mine?” I used to think everything Kyle said was charming.
I’d since found out that Kyle, like GPS, had a limited range. Out here, in the middle of Vermont farm country, my GPS had stopped functioning. A signal kept insisting the phone was searching for a satellite, but it was becoming pretty clear that the satellite was nowhere to be found. It was hiding, perhaps, from the snippy woman’s voice that commanded me to turn left when I wanted to turn right.
Luckily, the real estate agent had given me directions. I’d scribbled them down on the back of an envelope and was now trying to decode them. The agent’s name was Vera Applegate, which I thought sounded like Vermont. I could almost hear Kyle, “What, exactly, does Vermont sound like?” And I might try and explain that it sounded like rolling green hills and stone fences and cows lying under huge old maple trees. None of it would have made sense to Kyle.
“Take route 153 from West Rupert town center and turn left on Witches Hollow Road,” I read aloud. My bulldog Tyrone cocked his head from where he sat in the passenger seat of the VW bug. “I know, right? Which was town center, the shopping plaza or that quaint green with the historical marker and the gazebo? And how far from town center?” Tyrone lost interest in my pondering and went back to doing what he does best, sticking his head out the window and letting the wind blow his jowls back. Miss Kitty, my tabby, was pacing the back seat with a bad case of nerves. I’d let her out of her carrier back in Saratoga, because she had been yowling. She had stopped complaining aloud, though the prowl wasn’t much better. I kept waiting for her to land on top of my head so that she could navigate.
The road wound this way and that through the hills. I had slowed to a crawl, nearly coming to a stop at each intersection to read the road signs. Some of them looked like they had been posted in the eighteenth century and never updated and some were missing all together. An old truck, that looked like something out of the fifties, with a huge toothy grill, eased up behind me, the grill nearly kissing my VW’s back bumper. I hate tailgaters, so in defiance I slowed even more. The truck beeped, making Miss Kitty jump and then the driver throttled up the engine and roared past me. I caught a glimpse of a nice looking sandy-haired man with a Jack Russell terrier on his lap. In that instant, I got the notion that the dog was driving the car.
“Don’t get any bright ideas,” I said to Tyrone. I went back to searching for Witches Hollow Road. A wonderful name, isn’t it? I could picture a trio of old crones stirring a steaming black cauldron, throwing in mysterious ingredients like eye of newt and chanting spells.
That the farm was on Witches Hollow Road was only one in a long list of features which made me take the leap and buy the place. I could hear Kyle saying it was an impulsive thing to do. At least it wasn’t compulsive, I argued back to his voice in my head.
I had, on the trip from Manhattan, scripted out the whole of the argument we’d have when he found out what I’d done. He would storm into the farm kitchen (lots of sunlight, wide oak plank floor), take the bowl of muffin batter from me and ask “Have you gone stark raving?”
And I would take the batter back, and calm as you please I’d start putting it into muffin tins. “I need a change. This is a change,” I would say.
“Who buys a farm sight unseen?” Kyle’s mouth would be set tight, his hazel eyes squinched together.
“It’s an investment.”
An investment. I loved that part. It’s what Vera Applegate said after I’d called for information on the too-good-to-be-true classified in the Sunday Times. Old Homestead. Needs some TLC. There had been a picture next to the ad, the farmhouse like something out of a picture book, an old barn sitting on an emerald meadow. Twenty Acres. Small private pond. I was enchanted.
I’d been looking at estate sales for a long time. Each week, I’d open the Times and imagine what it would be like to live in the rambling Gothic in Portland Maine, the brick row-house on Beacon Hill in Boston, the painted lady on Martha’s Vineyard. Window shopping is what it had been, a Sunday morning pastime in the tiny basement apartment on Tenth Avenue.
“We love the city,” Kyle would say when I pointed out the cedar-shingled beach house in Hampton. “And we could never afford it.”
He was right. We couldn’t have afforded any of them. And they would have stayed tight in my imagination if I hadn’t seen the price on Auld Lang Farm. I thought it was a typo.
When I called Vera, price was the first thing I asked about. “We can get you financing. You would only need five percent down.”
I quoted the price again. “Is that right?”
“Sticker shock.” I could hear Vera chuckle through the phone lines. “We’ll run through the numbers and find a way.”
I hadn’t the heart to tell her that I didn’t think it expensive. Quite the opposite. I began to wonder what was wrong with it. “It needs a little work, updating,” Vera said. “Nothing too daunting.”
I pondered the house for a week. I even asked my friend Gloss to do a Tarot reading. “Big changes in your future,” Gloss announced.
“What kind of changes?”
“I see a farmhouse. Somewhere pastoral. And a man. Ooh, he’s your destiny. The love of your life.”
This was spooky. I hadn’t told Gloss about Vermont. “Kyle is the love my life.”
Gloss shook her head. Her earrings- a string of silver hearts- began to chime. “Never was never will be.” Gloss had advised me not to marry Kyle. She insisted that he was no way no how the man I was supposed to be with.
“I’m still married, you know.”
“You shouldn’t be.” I had never believed her, though a sliver of doubt about my future with Kyle had found its way into my brain.
That in itself might have been enough to convince me to buy the farm. But the universe wasn’t through throwing signals. A few days later, I was told Bow and Meow, the veterinary clinic where I worked, was closing. My boss, Ted Carlin, was going to retire.
“You’re a damn fine vet, Gwynn. You’ll find another job.” With that scant bit of reassurance, Ted handed me a list of places where he thought I could apply. Most were in the city, but one, right at the bottom of the list, was in Rupert, Vermont. A Dr. Henry Bolger was looking for a partner. It didn’t register at first.
“Rupert?” I asked Ted.
“In Western Vermont, near New York I think.”
Then it dawned on me. Auld Lang Farm was in Rupert! How much of a coincidence was that?
Though I still wasn’t convinced, mostly because I wasn’t sure I could talk Kyle into moving to Vermont. He was a fireman with the NYFD and he wasn’t likely to give up his job. Just the same, I called Dr. Bolger. I figured I might as well cover my bases.
“Yup. I’ve been working in New York City.”
“I’m a Brooklyn boy myself.” We talked for quite a few more minutes and after that, Dr. Bolger said. “Well, you want the job or not?”
My heart was pounding. Did I want the job? “Sleep on it,” Dr. Bolger suggested.
Sleep? How was I to sleep with the universe making such a racket?
Though how was I to convince Kyle? The universe, it seemed, had an answer for that as well. Sometimes, fate can hit you over the head so hard it hurts.
Interview with Gwynn Powell
Tell us about yourself. What are you like?
I love animals, which is why I became a vet. I have two pets of my own, a dog and a cat. I like to seize the moment and I believe in living for today.
What do you think is your strongest point? I’m pretty good at “rolling with the punches” and turning to do whatever it is life hands me.
Do you have a weakness? (If so, what do you think it is? What does your lover think it is? What does your enemy think it is?)
I sometimes jump into things without thinking things through. I’m pretty sure others would agree.
What drives you to do the things you do? What makes you want to be the "good guy?"
I trust my gut. A lot. So I tend to go with it. I want to be content in my life, I want that for the people I love also.
What's your favorite guilty pleasure?
Hmm, I really like baking. It’s something I’m new to and still learning. I baked muffins the other day. Next up, I might try some bread. Sky’s the limit!
If you didn't know how old you were how old would you be?
A lot older I guess. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been around for the better part of forever.
A biography has been written about you. What do you think the title would be in six words or less?
The woman who found timeless love.
If money were not an object, where would you most like to live?
Oh, I love where I’ve moved to. The farm in Vermont is a dream come true. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but right here.
What song would best describe your life?
Hmm, probably “You and I will meet again” by Tom Petty.
If you were a tool, what would people use you to do?
Let’s see… I would be mixer. A hand mixer used to blend things together and make something delicious.
Picture yourself as a store. Considering your personality and lifestyle, what type of products would be sold there?
Oh, that one’s easy. I’d be an Agway, with lots of food and supplies for pets and farm animals.
As a child, what was your favorite thing about school?
I loved reading—my favorite books were about animals.
Tell us an embarrassing story that has to do with a pet. If you have no pets, a story about a significant other will do. ^_^
My cat, Miss Kitty, once jumped onto my head while I was driving and nearly caused an accident.
If you came with a warning label, what would it say?
Do not shake.
Please Fill in the Blanks
I love pizza with mushrooms and peppers.
I'm always ready for anything!
When I'm alone, I tend to daydream a lot. I also talk to my pets and the animals on the farm.
You'd never be able to tell, but I’m pretty tough when I need to be.
If I had a halo it would be silver and very sparkly.
If I could fly I'd do it.
I can never leave the farm because my heart (and love) is here.
|Books by Ute Carbone|
About the Author
I'm a novelist and sometimes poet who lives in Southern New Hampshire. I’ve been married to the same great guy for a lot of years. We have two grown sons. I love hiking, skiing, and generally communing with nature. I'm a big fan of chocolate, theater, and really good stories.
Blueberry Truth—a novel about two people wanting a baby and a little girl who needs a family
The P-Town Queen—a romantic comedy about an oceanographer trying to get back to her research and her relationship with a man who’s hiding from the mob by pretending to be gay
Books Coming Soon
Afterglow (January 2013) A romantic comedy about an older woman who is getting divorced and needs to get her life back on track and the younger man who helps her do it.
Searching for Superman(June 2013) A romantic comedy about a woman looking for the love of a superhero and a man who dresses up like one.
I’ll be Seeing You (July 2013) a short story trilogy of three generations of women and the men they love
Sweet Lenora (July 2013) a historical romance novella, part of Champagne Book’s Dark Heroes series, about a young woman who stows away on a clipper ship and the dark and daring ship’s captain.
Leave a comment to win a copy of my romantic comedy, The P-Town Queen.
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