P. C. Cast - Time Raiders: The Avenger  

was born in Illinois and grew up being shuttled back and forth between there and Oklahoma, which is where she fell in love with quarter horses and mythology (at about the same time).

Five days after graduating from high school, she joined the United States Air Force, which is where she began speaking professionally. After her tours with the USAF, Ms. Cast attended college as a literature major with a secondary education minor.

Her first novel, Goddess by Mistake, was published by a small press in 2001. Thoroughly shocking the author, it won a Prism, a Holt Medallion and a Laurel Wreath, and was a finalist for the National Readers' Choice Award. Since then Ms. Cast has gone on to win numerous writing awards. Ms. Cast is thrilled that her work with her daughter, Kristin, in young adult fiction has won numerous placements on the New York Times and USA TODAY bestseller lists.

P.C. Cast lives and teaches in Oklahoma with her fabulous daughter, her spoiled cat and her Scotties--better known as the Scottinators. The daughter attends college. The cat refuses higher education. The Scottinators are as yet undecided about their future.

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author

Dearest Reader,

It was an honor to be asked to write a novel in a series conceived and written by women who have served their country in the armed forces. TIME RAIDERS is a rich world in which to play, and it was fun to bring my prior active-duty USAF alter ego to the sandbox.

I particularly love this period of history. Boudica and her amazing story have intrigued me for years. I love that she was a strong secondary character, and I hope I kept true to her historical spirit in my rendition of her.

And, finally, to be completely honest with you, I have to tell you that it was a pleasant break for me to write a steamy, sexy, paranormal romance again after writing so many young adult books!

I hope you enjoy going back to ancient Briton with Alex. Here's wishing you happy reading and the brightest of blessings.

P.C. Cast

This one is for the enlisted women in the USAF,
with a smile and a semi-insubordinate grin.
Enjoy!

T he dead woman sighed. Her voice sounded wistful and more than a little nostalgic. "It's pretty here, isn't it? There is something restful about all this open space."

"You're dead, Andred. Isn't everything restful to you?" Alex said, lifting a brow at the semitransparent woman who leaned against the low wooden fence beside her.

"Do not be so literal. I am quite certain you are very aware that just because one is dead doesn't mean one is at rest." The spirit paused and gave Alex a knowing, sidelong look. "Your fear of leaving here is irrational."

Alex frowned. The two things that had surprised her most about ghosts when she first started seeing them the year she turned six were they were so damn nosy, which made them ubergossips, and they were so damn free with their advice. As if dying turned them into talk show hosts.

"Look, I'm not afraid of leaving here. I just don't like to. Even you said how restful this place is, and I love Oklahoma's Tallgrass Prairie. Not to mention my job's here--why should I want to leave?"

"There is quite a difference between loving a place so you choose to stay, and staying in a place because you are too fearful to leave."

"I said I'm not afraid to leave! I went to Flagstaff. I was gone for three whole days."

"You hated every moment of it."

"No, I did not. I loved seeing Tessa." And I'm worried as hell about her. Alex closed her eyes for an instant and against her dark lids saw smoke and fire and smelled the acrid scent of computers frying in unbelievable heat. Professor Carswell had assured her that Tessa would be fine, but after the terrible accident she'd witnessed, Alex didn't know how that could be true. But none of that is this damn nosy ghost's business.

"You have not left the prairie once since you returned. You've even been giving your shopping list to Sam. Alexandra, when you resort to having a hired ranch hand buy tampons for you, I'd say you are turning into a hermit."

"And what about you? Why are you still here? Hello! Aren't you the pot calling the kettle black? How can you lecture me about being afraid to leave?" Alex glanced pointedly at the woman's archaic looking outfit, which was little more than a brightly colored linen tunic, and leather sandals with straps that wrapped around her calves. "What kind of a name is Andred? How long ago did you die, anyway?"

"Andred is a very old name, as I have been here a very long time."

"And I have a feeling you should have passed on a while ago."

The ghost of the young woman shrugged. "I will. I am in no hurry."

"Well, that's no different than me. I'm in no hurry to leave, either," Alex said smugly.

The spirit turned to face her, her expression sad. "There is a vast difference between us, Alex. As you remind me often, I am not of the living. There is nothing out there for me. But you are alive. The world exists for you, except you're unwilling to live, so you hide in here."

Alex's stomach tightened. "You have no idea what it's like. You ghosts are overwhelming! In Flagstaff, with Tessa, ghosts were everywhere! I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. Here it isn't so bad."

The spirit shook her head. "It's not where you are, Alex. It's you."

"That's such utter bullshit!"

"You haven't always hidden yourself away out here. You used to be a part of the world. What happened?"

"I am still part of the world! I live and work on the tallgrass prairie. I'm a botanist. I give guided tours. I interact with people all the time. Living people. And I'm done talking to ghosts for today." Alex climbed over the fence, and without another word, stomped into the bunkhouse and went directly to the small room she called home, forcing herself not to slam the door behind her.

"Damn know-it-all ghosts! God, they're so incredibly annoying," Alex muttered to herself as she went to the chic wine cooler she kept filled with a stash of her favorite reds and whites. She considered for a second, and then decided to splurge and open a new bottle of her current favorite red, The Prisoner, ignoring the irony of the name on the label. "I live!" she said as she opened the wine. "I just choose to live somewhere that doesn't stress my brains out." While she let the wine breathe Alex pulled off her jeans and sweatshirt, replacing them with comfy silk drawstring pajama bottoms and the matching top. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the outside of her closet and paused to smooth back her crazy hair. Sometimes it seemed her mood translated to her hair follicles, because nine times out of ten when she was angry her thick mass of strawberry-blond hair frizzed out to look like a lion's mane.