January's Thaw

Many people obsess over their past, but no one more than I. Perchance it’s because, as a man out of time, I left behind so much of it unlived.

If that makes little sense, consider that I’m a time traveler. Although the backdrop for my story is time travel and alternate realities, the underlying theme is a more human one—of love lost, another love found only to be lost, and of a decision, the result of a single regret brought about by the realization that my self-professed courage to never risk my heart to love was instead cowardice, to rectify a wrong in a life filled with myriad regrets. You may judge me, as it is man’s nature to judge others, or discount my story as the ravings of a lunatic mind or simply the fiction of an overactive imagination—but before you do, I ask that you read on to the end, and then ask yourself if you would have acted any differently.


When I said nothing, Ecstasy leaned over and kissed me, softly but with purpose; I felt the weight of her breasts, the points of their nipples against my chest, her hand gently caressing the inside of my thigh. I recalled the vision of a few minutes ago: A woman undressing in shadows—mottled light from between window blinds set to motion by a gasp of early summer night air, slashes of luminosity split rounded breast, hip’s parabola.

My own gasp whispered to the darkness as my desire responded to hers.


“In January's Thaw, J. Conrad Guest gives us an unforgettable adventure seen through the cracked lens of our broken present and an all-too-possible, what-if past. Full of intrigue, romance and scathing social commentary, it is both an ambitious novel and an exciting, page-turning imaginative quest for that which is beautiful and true.” —Rachael Perry, author of How to Fly
January's Thaw