A SWITCH IN TIME—The President Is Missing…

This story is very close to my heart. My mother, Eleanor LaRue, initially wrote this manuscript in 1960 but never had it published…she left the unfinished drafts to me when she passed away in 1995, **BEFORE** I even began my writing career. I found the story when I moved a few years ago, and I felt compelled to bring her story to life. Over two years, I updated, edited, tweaked, and added a time travel element for a contemporary spin.

My mother lived decades before her time, but her message is as eerily as significant today as it was in 1960. Please take a moment and check out our story. The storyline just might resonates more than you expect.

USA Today Bestselling Author, Casi McLean, presents A Switch In Time—a gripping time slip thriller ripped from today’s headlines.

In a country divided, where terrorists hijack peaceful protests and threaten the fabric of America’s democracy, President Emery Clayton, III discovers a global power behind the insurrection. He escapes to the White House attic to plan a counterblow, steering clear of initiating World War III—and vanishes.

After years of studying to realize his dream, James Rucker’s future explodes when he’s falsely accused of cheating on his final exams. Vowing he’s had enough, he joins a civil rights movement. But his trip to connect with the anarchists stops cold when his flight is struck by lightning and plummets into the ocean.

Can one man’s soul rip through time to a different era…survive a plane crash…and mitigate a broken man’s rage in time to save his own nation from total destruction?

Here is a sneak peek:
Prologue

“Those who control the present, control the past and

those who control the past, control the future.

George Orwell’s—1984

Present Day

Emery Clayton peered through a dusty windowpane unnoticed from the grounds below. He could almost hear the whispers of those who strode before him. Hidden behind storage closets and nestled beneath the sloped ceiling on the north side of the White House, this secluded attic chamber offered the president a secret refuge to escape the bustling activity of the halls below. Emery might never have found the room himself, had he not searched for a quiet spot away from the madding crowd.

For the last three years, he found solace within this secret space…a place to think and sort through the dissidence running rampant in the America he so dearly loved. As President, he straddled the pinnacle of a double-edged sword threatening the fabric of the nation’s democracy.

Dropping his gaze, he turned and paced toward an old wooden secretary. No longer did the Resolute Desk sit with pride in the Oval Office. Cast aside in a forgotten room by his predecessors, the oak treasure, an 1880 gift from Queen Victoria, now gathered dust and cobwebs, a powerless image of a shattered country. Pondering how he’d heal the polarized Congress and divided population paralyzing the nation, he resolved to unite America. Never would he sit idly by and watch this country wither and die.

Emery ran a palm over the smooth surface. His finger touched an etched insignia carved into the wooden drawer. Drawing his glasses from his breast pocket, he perched them on the end of his nose and read aloud the words inscribed.

“God grant me wisdom to light the way and the strength of our forefathers to save the day.”

A heartbeat later, President Emery Clayton III vanished into a swirling tempest of blue haze.

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