Turn Back Time

Desdemona had always had it rough from her father after he abandoned her and her brother, Dorian; but when the man shoots Dorian, she swears her revenge...
She begins working on a machine that would allow her to re-enter her eight year old self, but keep her current knowledge, so that she may save her brother who died all those years ago. But can she manage it? Or will her past come back to haunt her before she has time?

(Current coverart is only temporary, proper coverart coming soon.)


1. Prologue

London, December 31st, 2019. Snowflakes danced through the dark alleys in which my brother and I slept. My mother had died while giving birth to me and my father had tried to kill me as a baby. He had said that the devil was within me and that I was the reason my mother had died and that I had bright red hair. My brother, Dorian, had always protected me, but one day our father just abandoned the two of us. Even though I was merely eight years old, Dorian had always said to me “Desdemona, if ever there was a name to curse, it would be Evan Boese.”

Dorian was right to say that to me. Evan Boese, my own father, had beaten me, and even given me a name that meant ‘of the devil’. Dorian and I had been forced to scavenge in the dustbins, and maybe get some sympathy from the lady at the market, but most of the people who live in this town look down their noses at us.

I used to love winter, but not anymore.

While the wealthy Londoners laughed and drank alcohol in the pub to celebrate New Year’s Eve, Dorian and I sat huddled together in the cold. Footsteps crunched through the freshly fallen snow as we pushed ourselves far into the shadows. The drunken singing was all too familiar to the both of us.

Our father staggered along the lonely road, waving a gun in his hand. We tried to duck out of sight but he had seen us. His handsome face was distorted by a menacing grin as he advanced on us. He pointed the gun straight at me.


Before I had even registered what happened, my father was running lop-sided into the night and Dorian lay in front of me, red contrasting against the pure white snow. I placed my hands either side of his pale face, both of our eyes wide.

“Look after yourself Des.” He whispered.

That was all he could say before his blue eyes closed and his breathing slowed and stopped.

I do not know how long I had spent weeping into his black hair, but what I did know was that Evan Boese would pay.

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