An Interview with the Sons of Father Time
Author Wendy Sparrow recently sat down with brothers, Zeit Geist of Stealing Time, Tempus Halt of Taking Time, and Ruin Angelus of Keeping Time.
Wendy: I’m turning this on, and I’ll transcribe it later.
Zeit: What is it? *picks up recorder* *tapping and shaking*
Wendy: No, put that down. It’s just a recorder.
Tempus: *snorts* Mortals have such weird devices.
Wendy: Okay, first, introduce yourselves.
Tempus: Isn’t this what they do at those mortal addiction recovery meetings?
Zeit: On TV, they do.
Wendy: Just do it.
Tempus: Fine. Hello, my name is Tempus.
Zeit and Ruin: Hello, Tempus.
Wendy: Sit down. Guys, knock it off. Here, I’ll do it. Zeit and Ruin, who are also sons of Father Time, are here too.
Tempus: Why did you wave? No one can see you. *silence* Right? They can’t see us? *picks up recorder*
Wendy: Put that down. *takes back recorder*
Ruin: How long is this going to take? I promised Phoebe I’d make it back in time to watch a movie tonight.
Tempus: On Valentine’s Day?
Ruin: *slowly* Is that not okay?
Tempus: Whose idea was it?
Ruin: Hers. She said if we weren’t doing anything, we could…
Tempus and Zeit: *groans*
Zeit: It’s Valentine’s Day! You were supposed to come up with something to do. Valentine’s Day is a huge deal with mortal women.
Tempus: I mean, they only have a limited amount of them—sixty—seventy—eighty—or whatever. How long do mortals live now? I should really know this.
Zeit: You should. Seventy-five or eighty years on average.
Tempus: But they probably don’t remember the first few, right?
Zeit: I wouldn’t think so. Either way, I’d discount those because they’re not doing much.
Tempus: But the seventy or so Valentine’s Days they do remember should be, well, memorable. It’s a mortal, uhh, thing. What did you do last year?
Ruin: Last year, we, uhh, watched a movie. *clears throat* She did get all dressed up for it, though…
Tempus: Dressed up like how?
Ruin: It was this short, tight black dress. It was made out of velvet maybe.
Tempus and Zeit: *groans*
Ruin: Well, what are you two doing tonight?
Tempus: I’m taking Lacey to the theatrical adaptation of And Then There Were None.
Ruin: Don’t they all die in that?
Tempus: What? I don’t know. No. Did you just ruin the play, Ruin?
Ruin: The name of it is And Then There Were None. The title spoils it.
Tempus: No, you spoiled it. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you don’t spoil endings like that?
Ruin: I haven’t read it. I might be wrong.
Tempus: Probably not though. Lacey has already read it, so she’ll be looking smug up until I figure out who the murderer is. She said I’m not allowed to gloat aloud when I figure it out.
Zeit: I heard there was a dance involved. Lacey told Hannah that, last time, you stood up in the movie theater and shimmied while your hands were up in the air, waving around.
Tempus: For what movie?
Zeit: For what movie? You’ve done that more than once?
Tempus: No! Well…no, I don’t think so…maybe. But which one?
Zeit: I don’t know. Didn’t say. Just heard there was a dance. That’s what I’m doing tonight…well, not that! But I am taking Hannah dancing.
Ruin: Maybe I should do something like that.
Zeit: Not at the same place as Hannah and I. That’d be…weird.
Ruin: Why would it be weird?
Tempus: Yeah, Zeit, why would it be weird? What kind of dancing are we talking here?
Dirty-dancing? Or maybe it’s the place you’re going…
Zeit: In Boise? You do remember I live in Boise, right?
Ruin: Boise could have a nightlife.
Tempus: In thrillers, it’s always places like that with the most graphic crimes playing out in the background. Like the tagline will read, “In the heart of America, a killer is waiting…” And the killer is always going after the kindergarten teacher or the librarian. Sometimes, it’s a punishment vendetta for the deep, dark secrets they have. Sweet, innocent-looking women are always hiding the sexy, but sort of naughty secrets. If she’s sweet, you know she’s got a ton of hidden desires, but she hasn’t told anyone—not her family or husband, especially not her husband, but the killer has found out. He knows her secret.
Wendy: Guys, I do have some actual questions.
Zeit: Hold on, like what sort of secret?
Tempus: You know…what she’s into.
Zeit: What is she into?
Tempus: That sort of thing.
Ruin: What sort of thing?
Tempus: Well, I’m not going to bother telling you—you can’t even recognize that when a woman is wearing a tight, black dress, she’s not planning on sitting on a couch to watch a movie. And, Zeit, you live in Boise!
Zeit: Which is where you said all sweet women have secret hidden desires…and Hannah is sweet.
Ruin: Hannah is sweet.
Zeit: What does that mean?
Ruin: What do you mean what does it mean? I was agreeing with you.
Zeit: So, you think Hannah has a deep, dark fantasy that I’m not fulfilling?
Ruin: How should I know?
Ruin: I thought watching a movie tonight was a good idea…clearly, I don’t know anything about women.
Tempus: She probably does.
Tempus: Hannah probably has a dark fantasy that you’re not fulfilling. Lacey has a ton of them…only I am fulfilling them. Probably a few tonight.
Zeit: Not if you stand up in the middle of the theater and yell that the butler did it before dancing like a monkey on crack.
Tempus: Wait, did you just spoil the ending? Did the butler do it?
*scuffling sound ensues*
Wendy: Guys, stop it. Zeit, don’t… Seriously, put down that chair. Tempus! Urgh!
Ruin: I think the interview might be over.
Wendy: It wasn’t even the butler. I’ve read it, and it wasn’t the butler.
Ruin: I figured. What would you do tonight? I mean, if you were a woman who was into romance?
Wendy: I just… *sighs and shuts off recorder*
Servants of Fate
Genre: Paranormal romance
Publisher: Pen and Kink Publishing
Date of Publication: December 24, 2016
Number of pages: 308
Word Count: 96,000
Cover Artist: Amanda C. Davis
As servants of Fate, Father Time’s sons must sacrifice a mortal’s lifetime on behalf of humanity before each year ends. It’s simpler if they don’t get involved, as their immortality is a barrier to relationships and to understanding the emotions of those whose lives end in a blink, especially if these time holders have a hand in it. Servants of Fate pass in and out of the lives of those around them, never interacting, until a different type of fate steps in. They can stop time, but love will leave them powerless.
THIS COLLECTION CONTAINS ALL THREE TITLES FROM THE SERVANTS OF FATE SERIES
Father Time’s son, Zeit Geist, must sacrifice a mortal’s lifetime to the Fates each New Year’s Eve. Last year—inexplicably, really—he made an 11:59 substitution. The Fates are pissed and they’re after his mortal Hannah. With the year ending, he ought to figure out why he’d saved her—and why he keeps doing it.
Following an unlucky year, Hannah Lyons needs a week’s holiday in a lodge to unwind. What she gets is near-death experiences and a sexy immortal who can’t avoid kissing her, but might have to kill her. After all, even Zeit can’t hold back time indefinitely.
Tempus fugit. Time flies…unless you’re Tempus Halt, Father Time’s son. Day in and day out are the same, except for New Year’s Eve when he steals the life of a mortal on behalf of the Fates. This year marks his first failure to stay the monotonous course. A mortal’s kiss and her insistence on taking the place of his year’s sacrifice stalled out everything. Now, Tempus has to keep her alive for a year so his sacrifice isn’t wasted, but that’s the only reason—definitely.
One of these crazy grim reapers stole Lacey Carpenter’s estranged father’s life two years ago. She’ll give her own life rather than letting it happen again. It backfires when Tempus doesn’t actually kill her, and they have to spend the year together. She’s falling for an immortal who stops time, not just to save her life, but also to ruin her dates and steal her books. This can never work and fate is just not on her side—in fact, they’d really like her dead before Tempus falls for her in return.
When Ruin’s mortal sacrifice to the Fates on New Year’s Eve is already dying, it should be the easiest life he has to take, but not this year. The dying man knows Ruin is there to kill him, but he asks Father Time’s son to look after his twin sister. Ruin can’t stay away from the sweet and sensual Phoebe. His previous interactions with women changed the definition of his name, Ruin, so he can’t fall for her, especially when the lovely mortal doesn’t know he killed her brother.
Phoebe’s brother promised to send her a guardian angel, but Ruin seems too devilish to be holy. He only wants to be friends and keep watch over her, but she can’t resist him. Loving Ruin is a sin tempting her heart. How wrong is it to cause an angel’s fall? Ruin and Phoebe’s time is running out as another New Year’s Eve sacrifice approaches, and Ruin might lose everything for keeping his true hand in fate secret.
It took them another three attempts to get what they both deemed were acceptable snowman portions.
“Hey. Coal.” With raised eyebrows, Hannah held up the two lumps of coal that had come in his snowman kit. “Get a good long look because this is what you’re getting next year.”
He couldn’t stop smiling at her. A dozen times each hour today, he’d wished he could slow down time because he wanted to spend more time with Hannah—he needed that. She was singing Frosty the Snowman with a carefree abandon he’d never felt before. If only he didn’t have the end of the year looming over him.
“Okay, pass me his corn cob pipe,” she said.
He pulled the “pipe” out of the box and stared at it. “Our snowman is a smoker? And this is a kids’ song?”
“It was written back before people worried about things like their lungs,” she said, reaching for it.
He pulled it away. No. It wasn’t right. “His days are already numbered, and he’s playing with fire—actual fire?”
“Ohhhh, right.” She tilted her head. “Wow, that does make him a bit of a rebel, doesn’t it? I bet the snowladies were all suitably impressed.”
Zeit looked around. There were mortal children all around. Young impressionable mortal children. He put the pipe back in the box.
“Or he’s not really a rebel. He likes to play things safe. Then again,” she tapped his coal eyes, “he did earn his coal. Maybe he’s got nothing to prove. There should be buttons in the box.”
He pulled off his glove to search through the bottom of the box, pulling out three buttons. “What is he buttoning up?” he asked as he handed them to Hannah.
She’d started pressing the buttons into his middle snow section, but she stopped and bit her lip as she stared at the round button still in her hand. Finally, she shrugged and pushed the last one in. “I think you’re overanalyzing this.”
“Or it’s a mortal tradition that could use some scrutiny.” He held out the faux carrot that came in his kit.
“But, look, he’s healthy. A carrot.”
“Is he going to eat his own nose?”
“I can’t do this with you now.”
About the Author:
After a childhood spent wandering as a military brat, Wendy Sparrow found her home in Washington State. Her days involve convincing her two kids she knows how to properly parent and her nights showing her husband all the cool things romance authors know… or goofing around online… or reading, but mostly the first thing.
She’s active in OCD and autism communities and writes on her blog to support awareness in both. With her whole heart, Wendy believes everyone deserves a happily-ever-after. If she's not writing or wrangling kids, she's on Twitter, @WendySparrow, where she'll chat with anyone about anything.