Mark and Sam may be able to help.

Find Mom's files.

Quentin Steinam investments.

Lex Parsimoniae.

Nothing is set in stone a But please, do not change too much a Sam is the right choice Do NOT listen to Mom.

Do NOT let Mom use the stones on May 6, 2013.

July 12, 2013 a Date of the bomb that was not a bomb? >.

Abbey's iPhone trembled in her hand. The message was sent from...her own phone. Her future self? Or someone else who had accessed her phone?

Sam is the right choice? The bomb that was not a bomb, in less than a year? On July twelfth? That was the week of Science Camp. And what on earth did Russell Andrews have to do with anything? She'd forgotten that Dr. Ford had mentioned Russell. Mentioned Russell, as if he knew about the stones, too.

Her fingers shook as she typed 'Russell Andrews Coventry City' into Google. The circle icon at the top of her iPhone whirled, and then text started to fill the screen.

Andrews Mining Company, read the entry at the top of the list.

Andrews Mining Company. Could it be Russell's dad's company? Russell Andrews/ALICE, the text message read. What did Russell Andrews have to do with Aluminum Ice?

So many questions, and she was too exhausted to make sense of any of them. She needed rest, but her mind kept playing back the items on the list in a recursive loop.

Save Jake.

Don't listen to Mom.

July 13, 2013.

Do not change too much.

Abbey lay back down and tried to silence her racing thoughts by reciting the derivatives of displacement.

The 0th derivative of displacement is position...

The 1st is velocity...

The 2nd is acceleration...

The 3rd is jerk...

Gradually her thoughts began to stray, her mental litany blurring, framing the events of the past few days. The ongoing displacement in her position four days ago had seemed safe, with slow, predictable rates of change in velocity and limited jerk. How much had her position changed in the past four days? What was her velocity now? Her acceleration? The rate of change in her acceleration?

At last, sleep came, but not before two last thoughts echoed through her brain...

What is my fate?

Nothing is set in stone.

Book Two of The Derivatives of Displacement coming soon Banned from using the stones, Abbey Sinclair can only watch as her mother becomes increasingly obsessed with going to the future to try to save her own life. Abbey's brother, Simon, is sent to juvenile detention for his role in hacking into the City Hall computer system, and Coventry Hill is sold to an unknown investor for redevelopment. Meanwhile, Russell Andrews's actions become even more mysterious, the ancients roam Coventry causing havoc, Dr. Ford tries to establish himself as the new doyen of the stones, and Mantis continues to meddle with the timeline.

It's up to Abbey to figure out whom she can trust, what she needs to know, and how much she can tell Caleb. Because only Abbey can save her mother, stop Russell and Mantis, and prevent the bomb that isn't a bomb...without changing too much.

Acknowledgements.

I started this novel eleven years ago when my oldest son was a newborn because I thought having a baby would be similar to having a housecat and I planned to use my time 'off' work productively, because really, what else would I be doing? I imagined myself writing all day with my baby contentedly beside me in a car seat. My son's days as a housecat were short-lived. Within three weeks of birth, he became rather more like a sometimes cuddly and very demanding Tyrannosaurus Rex crossed with a border collie. However, three weeks was long enough for me to imagine the characters, sketch out the plot and draft the first chapter. It then sat for seven years while I wrangled toddlers until Angie Abdou taught a ma.n.u.script course, which gave me the impetus and opportunity to turn this novel into a living, breathing thing. Angie's initial comments, edits and encouragement were essential to getting this off the ground.

From there, it went to early readers, Brad, Dave and Mich.e.l.le and my own children, for feedback and ideas, and then to a professional editor, David Gatewood, who made me laugh at my Canadianisms and occasional late night lapses into dessert (when I meant desert). Then it went back to more readers and reviewers. Then an amazingly thorough and uncalled for review by proofreader Jo Michaels of Indie Books Gone Wild, and a second proof by Roz Nay of FreshEdit. With all of their input, I spent many hours wrestling with commas, semi-colons, ellipses and what punctuation one should use when something is Googled. Sometimes there are no easy answers. In the end I must give them all credit and thanks for their fantastic advice, and yet take responsibility for the final decisions. I have Andrew Brown of Design for Writers to thank for the wonderful cover design and Jo Michaels to thank for the beautiful formatting of the print edition.

Along the way, my writing friends and acquaintances were an ongoing (or occasional but much needed) source of encouragement-Deryn Collier, Kristene Perron, Mark Kusnir, Elena Aitken, Susan Toy, Yolanda Ridge, Rosa Jordan, Kim McCullough, Maureen Brownlee, Martin Crosbie and Angie Abdou. Kim and Angie, in particular, went above and beyond with their encouragement and advice. My non-writing friends are no slouches either-you know who you are. I owe all of you my thanks. And, of course, thanks most of all to my ever-supportive family, who did not see any reason at all for this book to not be a reality.

About the Author.

Jennifer Ellis lives in Rossland, BC with her husband, cat and two boys. She skis, does ballet, cooks, joins book clubs and tries to avoid her real job as an environmental researcher by writing. You can visit her website at www.jenniferellis.ca for random blogs and updates on her next book or find her on Twitter (@jenniferlellis).

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