Teleportation. Telepathy. Superior strength and speed. Abilities she never wanted.
Emily Heart used to have a normal life. A life filled with family, friends, and a
warm bed to sleep in. But that was before the night of The Taking. The night when
she was abducted and genetically transformed against her will.
Now she's lost everything and living on the streets of Glassford Park, struggling to
stay alive one more day. But it won’t be easy. Not when a gang wants to kill her,
cops want to arrest her, and a reporter wants to expose her.
However, Emily’s problems don’t end there. Any uncontrolled burst of emotion
can send her jumping randomly across time and space, arriving naked and alone. If
she's not careful, she could travel to infinity and beyond, never to be heard from
Emily doesn't quite know what she is, or what she's capable of, but she knows what
she can't afford to do -- feel anything.
And she can’t afford to make any mistakes.
Available at Amazon
Chapter 1:
Emily Heart pushed through the burning pain in her chest and thigh muscles, convincing
her legs to run faster. She dodged a park bench before jumping over a homeless man lying under
Her mind’s eye could see the gunman aiming his sights at the back of her head and
squeezing the trigger, sending the bullet out of the barrel and downrange with supersonic intent.
She leaned to the left, letting the round whiz past her fifteen-year-old body. It took out the
headlight of a cement truck parked across the street near the alley behind Glassford Street.
The flickering specks of blue light were fading in her vision. It wouldn’t be long before
she turned normal again. She would then be unable to see through the gunman’s eyes, or sense
the cold blackness of hate she could sense in his heart.
She bent forward at the waist, using a low-profile running pattern, hoping she’d make it
safely to the alley. She ran through the grass at the edge of the park, over the sidewalk and hit the
asphalt, racing across the empty lanes of the street.
More gunshots rang out, one after another in quick succession. She couldn’t see where
the bullets were headed, telling her the link with the shooter was broken. Bricks and mortar
exploded all around her as the hailstorm of rounds missed her. They hit the side wall of an old
warehouse covered in spray paint and gang signs. She turned right, just before the cement truck,
“Don’t lose me!” she yelled at Junie, who was sprinting in front of her, a book bag
bouncing on the back of her rail-thin body. Emily was falling behind, unable to keep up with the
speed and endurance of her twelve-year-old friend from the homeless shelter.
A minute later, she heard another round of weapons fire erupt as she was nearing the far
end of the block-long corridor, plinking and ricocheting off the walls around her. She felt the
wisp of a bullet fly through strands of her flowing red hair. It took out the painted window on the
wall ahead of her, shattering it into a million shards of colored glass.
She looked back and saw the gang leader standing at the entrance to the alley, changing
the magazine in his weapon. His crew came running into view, just catching up to him.
She made the corner and ran further down the passageway, which stank of garbage and
sewage. She hurdled a pothole, then flew over a garbage can laying on its side, almost losing her
balance in the process. But she managed to keep her feet under her while her shoes pounded the
Faster, she told herself, faster! She pushed her feet to their tripping point, trying to draw
more blood and oxygen than her teenage body could deliver. Her legs wanted to quit—so did her
She pressed on, looking ahead, trying to spot Junie, but she couldn’t see her anymore.
She turned another corner and saw a scrawny, dirt-covered leg sticking out from behind a pile of
stained mattresses leaning against the wall. She ducked in and grabbed her friend by the
shoulder, dragging her eighty-pound frame forward.
“Run, baby, run! Don’t stop! One more corner and we’re there! It’s on the left!”
Emily had learned over the past two years of living on the streets of Phoenix that the
blistering summers were endless and miserable, and so were the nights, keeping most of the
normal people indoors. She knew that nobody was watching, and nobody cared. There would be
no rescue. Not at this time of night, and not in this part of town. It was up to her to get Junie to
safety before the shooter and his crew killed her.
She felt a familiar tingle start to grow at the base of her spine when she turned the last
corner. “Oh, no! Not now! Not again!” she cried, trying to steady her nerves as she caught up to
Junie, who was squeezing her skinny body behind the dumpster.
She couldn’t let it happen. Not so soon. She’d barely recovered from the last time. She
needed to focus all her attention on Junie, and let the balance of her emotions run dry. It had only
been four days since she’d met her fiery companion in the homeless shelter, but she felt a strong
connection with this girl, even though she barely knew her. She didn’t know why, but something
inside of her told her to protect Junie. She was important somehow, not just another homeless
girl with a deadbeat mother nobody cared about.
She followed Junie behind the garbage bin and into the hidden doorway; darkness
engulfed them. “Down the stairs. And stay quiet,” she told Junie in a whisper, locking the door
“Go slow and use the handrails. There are twelve steps. Count ‘em as you go.”
They made it down the steps and through another doorway that led into a basement
storeroom. It was piled high with junk and old restaurant equipment that had been mothballed by
the owner. Emily knew this place well, spending at least one night a week there in recent months.
It was her secret hiding place where she could escape the insanity of the city.
An emergency exit sign hung over the inside of the door that she’d just entered,
showering an eerie redness over the scene. On the wall to the left stood another door. It led to a
flight of stairs that rose up to the kitchen of a high-end Italian restaurant. Emily had made friends
with the eighteen-year-old busboy, Parker, who was also a volunteer at one of the local shelters.
When he was the last one to leave for the night, he’d push the red dumpster close to the door as a
signal to Emily that the door was unlocked and she was welcome. She’d swoop in around
“Over here,” Emily said, gesturing to a huge metal cabinet with rusty hinges that was
standing next to a stack of Styrofoam coolers. “I think we lost them.”
Junie’s chest heaved in and out as it worked to recharge her lungs after the long run.
“I can’t feel them anymore,” Emily replied, equally as winded.
Emily quickly opened the white cooler sitting on top and put her hand inside, pulling out
a cellophane-wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a banana. As usual, Parker had left
the food for her in the top cooler with a chilled Pepsi acting as ice to keep the contents from
spoiling until she arrived. She tore the cellophane off, split the bread down the middle, and gave
“Here, eat while you can,” she said, before stuffing the sandwich into her mouth, chewing
Junie did the same, smiling, with peanut butter stuck to her teeth. “Sea food,” she said
Emily laughed. “We have a banana for dessert.”
She popped the Pepsi open and waited to see if the contents would bubble up. It did. She
sucked the cola off the top of the can until the carbonation settled down, then gave the soda to
Junie guzzled several swigs before giving it back to her. Emily swished the can around in
a circle to test its volume—only a quarter of the liquid remained. Emily finished her half of the
sandwich, then washed it down with the last bit of Pepsi.
They plopped down against the wall beside the cabinet. Junie wrapped her arms around
her knees, keeping the dual-strap backpack sandwiched between her thighs and flat chest.
“Junie, that’s not yours. Where did you get it?”
Emily sighed, feeling disappointment spread across her body. “What’s in it?”
She shrugged. “I snatched it from those boys right before you showed up.”
Emily unzipped it and peered inside. “Uh-oh,” Emily groaned. “We’re in big trouble.”
She tipped it to the side and opened it wide so Junie could see the money inside. Lots of
it. Bundles and bundles of wrinkled $100 bills, each wrapped with a blue rubber band and slip of
notepaper with a four-digit number written on it.
Outside, the group of West Side Locos that had been pursuing the two street girls were
becoming agitated. Their leader, Flaco, was more than agitated: he was pissed. The chase had
taken them several blocks outside of their home turf and into enemy territory. He knew it was
only a matter of time before a member of the Glassford Gatos noticed their trespass. His crew
was light, no match for a full-out fight with a two-dozen-strong gang.
The crew stood in a loose bunch on the sidewalk at the far end of the alley where the girls
had disappeared. Flaco was sure that the girls couldn’t have made it all the way to the end before
his crew rounded the corner. They must be hiding in the alley somewhere.
“Where’d they go?” he yelled at his lieutenant, Nesto, shoving him against the wall, his
gun pointed up under his chin. “El stupido! You let that street chica snatch the buy money?”
“Get the fuck off me!” he yelled. “I didn’t do anything. She was already there. It was
your dumb-ass idea to set up the buy at the rec center. Back the fuck up.”
Flaco backed away, lowering his gun. He looked down the alley, the way they had come.
“Okay. They have to be in this alley somewhere. No way they made it all the way
through here before us. Split up. You two, this side; you two, that side,” he said, gesturing down
the alley. “Search everywhere. Garbage cans, dumpsters, everything. We gotta get it back. Nesto,
go back to the other end and keep eyes. I got this side.”
The crew split up, following his orders.
Flaco knew that if they didn’t find the money, he was a dead man. His uncle would kill
him without a second’s remorse. He’d trusted him to make this drop with the Russians—the first
really big one since he’d decided to quit high school and join the family business. He paced back
and forth, trying to find a way out of the situation. He was about to give up on the search when
one of his crew whistled from down the alley. It was the new kid, barely 14 years old. What was
his name? Derek? Kid didn’t look Latino, but he swore he’d grown up in Hope Gardens on the
West Side. Not that it mattered. His uncle told him to take him along and break him in, so he did.
“Do as you’re told, and don’t ask questions” was a phrase that he knew all too well.
The new kid was waving at him to come take a look at something.
Flaco ran down the alley at full speed. “What you got?”
“Doorway,” Derek replied, pushing the dumpster away from the wall. He pointed at the
doorframe where a torn shred of clothing was hanging on a nail. “Check it out. Wasn’t the older
Flaco smiled. “We got ‘em. Good eyes, new boot.”
Flaco heard a cry from Nesto, who was running toward them in a full gallop. “Policía!
A police cruiser came screeching to a halt, blocking the alley at the end where they’d
originally entered. The cop gave the siren a quick double blast and then called over the
“You there! Stop where you are! On the ground! Hands behind your head!”
Flaco and his crew took off running in the opposite direction, but another police cruiser
with lights flashing and engine roaring skidded into the mouth of the alley, trapping them.
“This way!” Flaco yelled, instantly reversing direction. He ran a few feet, then veered
and kicked in the door that the new kid had found. He ran into darkness, not expecting the
ground to disappear from under his feet. He yelled as he fell down the void face-first. He
bounced and flipped, cracking his head on one of the steps on the way to the bottom.
Emily’s spine tingled again, deep down at the base, but the tingle was stronger than
before. She knew it was coming, and she wasn’t going to be able to stop it this time. The
gunshots must have started the countdown. Guns always sent her mind into a blur and her heart
racing, charging her body with a rush of uncontrolled emotions that seemed to act as the trigger
for the blue light. Gunfire and gangs were two things that she had fought hard to avoid during
The jump was coming, but she couldn’t leave Junie to fend for herself. She needed to
think of something. She usually had seventeen minutes from the first tingle until the blue light
consumed her and she’d vanish. The pre-jump process used to proceed like clockwork, but lately
it had been different. The lead time was now ten minutes, tops, from the first indicator to the last
moment. Barely enough time to find seclusion before it happened. She didn’t understand why the
timer suddenly decided to change, it just had.
Now that she had a friend in tow, she couldn’t slip away into the shadows and let it take
her. Not with Junie depending on her. This is why you never break the rules, she scolded herself,
as she reviewed the list in her head. Her mind highlighted rule number seven in bold—never get
involved; nothing good ever comes from it.
Junie was babbling on and on, trying to explain what she was doing on the playground
next to the shelter in the middle of the night, and why she’d stolen a backpack from a bunch of
“I was sitting in my secret place under that little arbor thing, ya know, in the corner by
the bathrooms. I was waiting for some drunk to finish his dump and leave so I could wash up. I
heard the Locos coming up the walkway through the trees by the picnic tables so I hid. I knew
the bag was important because they were arguing about it. Then they all turned their backs and
kept yelling at each other. English mostly, but some Spanish sprinkled in. They just left it sitting
there on the picnic table. I thought I could sneak up and grab it and get away, then sell whatever
was in it. I hate living in that shelter, Em. Too much touching. I don’t like all those hugs, and
people wanting to give me a bath all the time. They think they have to help me just because Mom
leaves me alone for an hour to go out and get high. Plus it smells like vomit all the time.”
The tingle in Emily’s spine crept up to her shoulder blades, confirming what she already
“Shhhhh,” she said, covering Junie’s mouth with her hand. “I hear voices outside.”
“I don’t know. I can’t sense them. The walls must be blocking.”
They listened. There were muffled voices just outside the door, at the top of the stairs
where the dumpster had hid their escape route. Emily’s pulse started to pound even more,
thumping in her eardrums. The tingly feeling shot up to her neck. She took a deep breath, trying
to focus her thoughts away from the ticking bomb inside of her. She had to do something with
“We have to get out of here,” she whispered. “We can sneak out through the
upstairs—it’s a restaurant, and they close early. I doubt anyone is there this late, but we’ll
probably set off the alarm when we leave.”
“Do you remember my friend Parker that I told you about? The busboy?”
“He disabled the sensors on the back door so I can sleep here whenever it’s raining, or
when he leaves food out for me. Nobody ever comes down here except him when he takes the
trash out, so he leaves food for me whenever his boss leaves early. I never go beyond this
basement. That’s our deal. But we don’t have a choice this time. Just stick close and we’ll be
Junie’s eyes widened. She looked scared, but she nodded.
They got up and made their way across the room as shouting rang out from the alley
above. They froze. Emily heard a police siren chirp twice, then an amplified voice that sounded
like it was coming over a loudspeaker. Shit. Cops. Definitely cops.
“The Locos are trying to kick the door in!” Junie said.
Thump! Thump! Crack! The door at the top of the stairs to the alley slammed open, and
one of the West Siders came tumbling down head over heels. He fell through the door at the
bottom and landed on his side in a heap, just inside the entrance of the storeroom. His eyes were
closed and his head was bloody. He started to moan.
“Flaco?” a Latino voice called out from the top of the stairs. “Flaco? You okay?
Emily held a finger to her mouth, reminding Junie to be quiet.
The same voice spoke again. “Send Derek down to check.” A few moments later,
footsteps pounded the wooden steps, getting louder with each beat.
“Run!” Emily whispered in Junie’s ear, shoving Junie across the room toward the door
that led to the kitchen upstairs. Junie opened the door and ran up the steps. Emily was about to
follow her friend, but stopped when she heard another person breathing heavily behind her.
Something told her to turn and look at him. It felt like curiosity, but it was more than that.
He was young—too young. Maybe a little younger than she. The red glow of the exit sign
made it difficult to be sure, but his spiked hair looked to be jet-black, with triangle sections cut
down to the scalp above his ears. His eyes were either blue or green. She hoped blue. Tattoos
covered both of his forearms like a sleeve, and a single gold earring hung down below his left
ear. She didn’t recognize its unique shape—maybe it was a symbol, or something that he’d
made. He was two inches taller than she, with high cheekbones that perfectly offset his narrow,
Emily couldn’t help herself. She stared into the eyes of the pretty boy. A thought came
unbidden into her mind: he’s way too cute to be part of this.
“Damn girl, you’re smokin’,” he said, with a voice much lower than she had expected.
His eyes moved down across her figure, then back up.
She smiled when he made eye contact with her again, sensing that he wasn’t going to
shoot. He was calm and quiet on the inside. There was no malice in his thoughts, just a growing
Then a voice came flooding down the stairs, as did more footsteps, breaking the calm.
Derek bolted across the room at her. Emily came to her senses and lashed out with her
right foot, just like Master Liu had taught her. The lightning-fast front kick struck him in the
groin and he fell back to the doorway and landed on top of Flaco, temporarily blocking access
Emily ran upstairs and shut the door behind her, jamming a metal garbage can under the
Junie stepped out of the shadows in the dimly lit kitchen. She was holding a stainless
steel skillet cocked by her ear, ready to brain whoever came up the steps.
“It’s me!” Emily hissed, taking the weapon from her friend. She put it on the counter next
to the prep station. “Hurry, out the front. This way.”
She ran past Junie through the double swing doors where the dining room of the elegant
restaurant was waiting. Lights from the street cast shadows across the empty chairs, wooden
tables, and the bubbling lobster tank. The tables were covered with white tablecloths and folded
linen napkins, wineglasses, and elegant cutlery. The floor was spotless and shiny, and there was
Emily felt a tremor rise up through her body. What had begun as a tingle in her spine was
now an overwhelming, full-body sensation. She felt electrified and alive, like she always did
right before a jump, meaning that her senses had now been supercharged, allowing her to have
visions of the immediate future. Normally, she would use this ability to know where to hide until
the jump came and she could disappear. But this time, she couldn’t just use her abilities to
protect herself. She had to make sure Junie would be okay before she vanished.
She knew that another thug was about to start kicking at the door to the kitchen behind
her, and then bolt through it and find his way into the dining area, where he’d start shooting his
machine gun. She could sense his plans, and felt the anger boiling inside his chest. It wasn’t the
pretty boy that she’d kicked in the basement. This one was itching to kill.
She waited a few seconds for what she knew would come next. It did—the extra strength
that hard-charged her muscles, allowing her to become stronger and faster, but only for a short
time. It would fade from her body the moment time began to slow down, which was the last step
She scooped Junie in her arms like a rag doll, ran across the dining room in a flash, and
dove over a low wall that separated the foyer from the dining room. Junie sat in a ball, clutching
the backpack to her chest, holding onto it for dear life.
“You know they don’t serve peanut butter in a place like this,” Junie mumbled.
“My mom used to be a hostess, so I know. Your friend must have brought it from home. I
She took Junie’s head in her hands and looked her in the eyes. “Listen to me. We don’t
have much time. As soon as I’m gone, wait for the glass to break on the front window. Then go
through it and run outside. Hide the backpack somewhere safe and go find the cops.”
“This time we do. They’ll protect you. They’re holding back now, but they’ll be here in a
“After I’m gone, you’ll hear gunfire, but don’t be afraid. The bullets won’t be coming at
you. A man will scream, and then glass will break. That’s when you run. After the glass breaks.
Junie gulped as tears began to flow, but she seemed to pull it together. She sniffed and
“You should use a tablecloth so you don’t get cut,” she said, helping Junie put her
“It might take me a while, but I’ll find you. Now cover your ears, and don’t scream when
you hear gunshots. He won’t be aiming at you. Just wait for the glass.”
Emily heard the double doors swing open and smash against the walls on either side of
Emily took a breath and steadied herself for what she was about to do. The closer she got
to a jump, the more it happened: time got slow and she got fast, but only for about fifteen
seconds of her time immediately preceding a jump.
She felt the blue energy rise up through her body, telling her that it was time to act.
She sprang over the wall and ran at the gunman in a cloud of blue. She could see three
bullets just leaving his gun, hanging in midair, with smoke trails behind them. She touched the
bottom of each bullet with her finger as she zipped past them, then grabbed the wrist on the
man’s gun hand and added a twisting force to it.
She turned her attention to the second villain who had been frozen in time, stepping
through the double swing doors. There was another man in the kitchen behind him, but she didn’t
see the pretty boy, Derek, anywhere. She grabbed the second man’s shoulders and spun him
around so that his gun was facing the third man, who was not far behind. She gently touched the
trigger finger of the second gunman, then moved to the third Loco and did the same with his
She dashed out of the kitchen and into the dining room, where she applied pressure to the
underside of a table built to seat eight people, calculating the trajectory of its flight in her head.
She knelt on the ground, then curled herself into the fetal position and waited for the last
second of the countdown to tick by. It did.
The jump pain hit as her body began to sizzle with blue lines of energy, like tiny
lightning bolts crisscrossing her skin. A searing bolt of agony shot from the back of her skull to
the center of her forehead, just as she was consumed by the blue fire and vanished.
Junie heard things happen just as Emily had described: first there were three shots of
gunfire that tore through the ceiling panels above her, then a man screaming in pain, then more
gunshots, then more screaming, then glass breaking, and a second after that, the alarm system
She took a deep breath and ran to the front window, seeing a man on his knees holding
his wrist, and two bodies a little further back lying on the floor, bleeding from their chests. She
snatched a tablecloth, stepped on the wooden chair closest to the broken window, spread the
tablecloth over the bottom of the frame, and climbed out. She heard sirens coming from the right,
but she decided to go left instead, running as fast as her feet could take her.
Jay J. Falconer is an independent author,
publisher, blogger, editor, engineer and Sci-Fi junkie
who lives in the mountains of northern Arizona where
the brisk, clean air and stunning mountain views inspire
his workday. He makes his online home at: www.JayFalconer.com and is an active
member author with BookBreeze.com.
Mr. Falconer is the author of the critically acclaimed Narrows of Time Series and
The Emily Heart Time Jumper Series, and is currently developing an all new
apocalyptic Sci-Fi series called Redfall, The Flames of Tomorrow, due to be
Be sure to watch the video trailer for the Author's Narrows of Time book series by
cutting and pasting this link: http://youtu.be/QXic3vkwC1U
Website: http://www.JayFalconer.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/NarrowsOfTime
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5314496.Jay_J_Falconer
Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Jay-J.-Falconer/e/B00IZO33N4
1 set of the series (all 3 paperbacks) and $25 amazon gift card to 1 lucky winner
a Rafflecopter giveaway
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Glenda, Charlie and David Cates
