Beryl Blue, Time Cop: Book 1

Her mission: save the soldier, save the future. Even if she loses her heart.

Librarian Beryl Blue shelves books in her hometown library. Dull, but after being orphaned and growing up in foster care, she prefers the mild life. Until a time cop from the future crash lands in her library with an offer Beryl isn’t allowed to refuse—she must stop a rogue time traveler from killing a WWII soldier on leave and changing history forever. If she can’t complete the mission, not only is the future screwed, but Beryl’s own life will be in mortal jeopardy.

Before she can blink, Beryl’s whisked from 2015 to 1943 and stranded there, tasked with keeping Sgt. Tom ‘Sully’ Sullivan safe at all costs.

She soon learns two things: Sully’s more than capable of taking care of himself and it’s her heart that’s in danger. The more time she spends with the sexy, stubborn sergeant, the more she comes to care for him. Beryl’s lost everyone she’s ever loved and there’s no way she’s going to open herself to loss again. Best to complete the mission, return to her own time, and never see Sully again.

If she can get the job done.

With an assassin on their heels and all of history on her shoulders, Beryl scrambles to figure out how to protect a man who refuses to be protected—and keep her heart intact.

Silver Falchion FinalistFinalist, Killer Nashville Silver Falchion award

“Beryl Blue is the heroine we long for…smart, brave, witty, and full of heart. Her adventure through time is one you will not be able to put down until you’ve savored the very last sassy sentence.”

~Amazon Bestselling Author Suzanne Tierney

A sneak peek inside!


I gripped the handrail and started up the rooming house’s creaky steps, with Sully at my side. As soon as we were out of the proprietor’s earshot, I attacked. “Why did you tell her I’m your cousin?”

“Did you want me to tell her you’re my wife?”

Well now, didn’t hearing that word on his lips make me tremble. With fear, no doubt. I mean, who in their right mind would want to be shackled to this opinionated, gruff, and so very tall control freak?

I squeaked out a “No,” and followed him to the end of a long hallway to the room he’d lied up and down to procure for me.

“Ten bucks a night for this?” Sully said when I opened the door. “Looks like you’re paying by the inch.”

He wasn’t kidding. This wasn’t a room. It was a closet with a view. The twin bed took up most of the space, with a bureau tucked into one corner and a small nightstand in another. I stepped inside, inhaling a healthy dose of lavender-scented sachet, but Sully put down my suitcase and stood in the doorway, looking at me. What, was he a vampire, waiting for an invitation to enter?

“I’ve got to check on my men.” He gestured toward one of the two windows. I could see the makeshift barn bunkhouse where the soldiers on weekend leave would sleep through the lacy curtains. “I’ll be back for you later. Until then, you stay here. Don’t leave this room.”

That was unexpected. “Wait, why?”

“Because someone tried to run you down today. It might’ve been your husband or lover or some maniac who doesn’t like brunettes with great gams. I don’t know and I don’t care. I don’t want you wandering about giving him another chance. Understood?”

“Um, you’re on leave, Sergeant. You can stand down.”

“You’re staying put, Beryl, and that’s final. Do you understand?”

“My goodness. You sure enjoy telling people what to do.”

“Comes with the territory.” He tapped the sergeant stripes on his sleeve.

So charming. “All right, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll stay put if you do too. I mean, what if he comes after you?”

Oh, what a smirk. “Don’t worry your pretty head, cousin. I can take care of myself.”

He left and I plopped onto the bed. The springs squeaked like a nest of mice being stepped on. Oh, yes, it was abundantly clear Sgt. Sullivan could take care of himself. And he could take care of me and everyone else around him, too.

Which begged an extremely intriguing question. Why would a man like that need a mere librarian like me to save him from certain death?

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