Book Review (SERIES): Time Travel Logistics and Support

I met Natasja Rose at Pennsic where she told me of a series she wrote about the support staff for a time traveling agency. Being familiar with the meme of a seamstress going off the pattern when time agents don’t respect fashions throughout different eras and countries, I had to check it out for myself.

These are short stories, more vignettes than plots, showing a collections of scenes from each department, but they are a fun way to spend an hour. Note that the spellings are Australian, like the author. I read through the shorts through Kindle Unlimited – this series is priced like I normally see for Australia authors. If you have American sensibilities of price points, read them through KU.

The Time Travel Logistics and Support series by Natasja Rose

  1. The Time Traveller’s Seamstress
  2. The Time Traveller’s Accountant
  3. The Time Traveller’s IT
  4. The Time Traveller’s Recruitment
  5. The Time Traveller’s HR (forthcoming – As of 10/16/2023, the author says the book is half written. Publication expected in 2024.)
  6. The Time Traveller’s Rouge (forthcoming)

Amazon Cover


Time Travel is easy. Fitting in while surfing the time-space continuum is harder.

A big part of the Time Agency’s success was due to their costuming department, a variety of men and women who made fantastic clothing… and who really wished that the Agents would pay more attention to details like what year and geographical region they were heading to, and the policy on advanced notice for anything pre-1920s. Honestly, do they think all of that hand-stitched embroider and beading is easy?

A humorous read likely to make you a lot more sympathetic to the costuming department.



A fun, simple read.

Totally a rant I can see from the Time Traveller’s support staff – and this is a long FUNNY rant about the importance of clothing through history – which I totally can get behind. I mean, really, modern folks would pick up someone wearing yesterday’s clothes, why would we ever think that it wasn’t as important in the past? Can you imagine if someone showed up wearing an Izod polo from just 40 years ago, or even an underarmour ten years too early? How about wearing cowboy boots instead of snow boots in Colorado in February? And the accessories – wrong cell phone!!!!

Translate that back to thousands of years to a thousand cultures and locations.

The perfect story idea – executed playfully in this short story.

Reread with four other books in the series (Accountant, IT, and Recruitment)
Still fun, lighthearted short vignette of what one might face while working in a time travelling agency as support staff. I’m most familiar with the costuming end of things and just love how unhinged the tailors and seamstresses are after HAND beading one too many outfits.

Amazon Cover


The Costuming Department probably had it worse, but life wasn’t all roses in Finance, either.

Whether it was sourcing ancient coins in a usable condition, only for the Agents to lose then less than a week later, or trying to convince Management to approve a payroll system from the current century (seriously, did anyone still use paycheques for wages?), it was one problem after another.

You’d think that the other departments would be more sympathetic, given what the agents subjected them to, but no…


(Note – spelling in this review reflects the Australian standard, as does the book itself.)

Another short vignette concentrating on the Accounting department of the time traveller agency logistics and support. Not only do they have to provide payroll (which management still has them issuing as paper cheques), they are also in charge of making sure the money people carry into the past is appropriate.

They run up against wear and tear of ancient coins, so they can’t just pick them up from museums, and counterfeiting with related jailtime is a consideration if the money is for a mission close enough in time the countries still exist.

Like the first book of the series, we get a few brief flashes of day-in-the-life-of activity, more than an actual plotline. The intercompany politics is what really makes these books – central to finances tale is the inter-office poaching good admin assistants.

A quick fun read. I read the whole series in about an hour.


Amazon Cover


IT is not a glamorous job. Not even when you’re troubleshooting time machines.

Between routine maintenance, fixing what the Agents managed to break this week, backing up the mission logs and thwarting attempts to poach their human blockade of a receptionist, the IT Department of the Time Agency rarely has a dull moment.

Honestly, they might spend less time wishing for a meteor strike if they did…


Now off to IT for logistics and support of the time travelling agency, where we get to see Lydia’s and Steve’s romance continue to develop. (So completely adorkable!) And the IT department struggle with non-tech agents lack of understanding of the machines taking them back and forth through time.

(No we cannot just turn it off and on again … do you want to go swimming with dinosaurs, because that is how you go swimming with dinosaurs!)

I may have laughed a little too hard during chapter 5. Physical incursions are a nightmare for tech security.

Again, this is a series of vignettes more than a short story, where the behind-the-scenes activities of supporting a time agency are shown. This manuscript’s aside to interoffice politics is getting management to upgrade outdated equipment that is “still working fine, you just got to tweak it a little.”

Having done computer support in the past, I identified with a lot the Di Vincis.


Amazon Cover


Recruiting for a Time-Travel Agency should be easy. It isn’t.

With the rising cost of History Degrees and most potential candidates having too many other commitments, and the rest of the pool thinking Netflix is the height of historical accuracy, finding recruits that don’t require months of re-training is becoming… difficult.

Recruiting Field Agents is simple. Just find the nearest person who has theories about how to change history, and aim them at prospective time travellers who have a different plan. All you have to do is keep track of where and when the Agents should NOT be sent.

Recruiting the more specialised support staff? … well, that’s a bit more difficult, and it’s not getting easier by having Management poaching the cream of the crop in an attempt to get some more competent Field Agents.


Read the fourth of the series (read the whole series in about an hour), and it’s more “meh” than the others. But then I’m not really an HR person – even when earning my MBA. It was amusing in my cohort working our way through the business degree – everyone was like “accounting UGH!” and “statistics for marking is a nightmare” and me and two other people were having a great time as everyone else complained. Then we hit HR and the tables turned. Math skills and people skills are two very different things. So me, not identifying with the people of the recruitment department makes sense.

The day-to-day activities are again the focus of this short manuscript, more a vignette than a story. Though this one of the series has a “stronger” plot as the interoffice politics is focused on the lack of agents, driving management to take their support specialists and put them in the field while recruitment is pushing a cohort through training as fast as possible (while the other support staff leaders are all wanting their workers back, now … yesterday would be better and why isn’t it possible within the time-travel agency. (IT covering their eyes “there is not enough days in the week to explain why we can’t.”)).

If you enjoy mild humor, queer characters, history, interoffice politics, costuming, and all these things mixed up, this is a fun way to spend an hour or two.

Book Review: You Sexy Thing

Amazon Cover

You Sexy Thing by Cat Rambo


Just when they thought they were out…

TwiceFar station is at the edge of the known universe, and that’s just how Niko Larson, former Admiral in the Grand Military of the Hive Mind, likes it.

Retired and finally free of the continual war of conquest, Niko and the remnants of her former unit are content to spend the rest of their days working at the restaurant they built together, The Last Chance.

But, some wars can’t ever be escaped, and unlike the Hive Mind, some enemies aren’t content to let old soldiers go. Niko and her crew are forced onto a sentient ship convinced that it is being stolen and must survive the machinations of a sadistic pirate king if they even hope to keep the dream of The Last Chance alive.



You Sexy Thing is a fun sci-fi read. Want aliens? Got aliens of all kinds. Want space stations? Yep, got that too. Want space pirates? Sure-in-dippity-do. Wide-ranging space politics? Got that. Military sci-fi? A bit of that too.

Food. Space food – so much cooking. Takes it a level beyond normal space opera and makes a unique world of space critics and teaching AI ships steps beyond replicator food. All while giving you aliens, space stations, pirates, politics, and military in space expected of the genre.

Basically think a hamburger, but presented with the perfect bun, lettuce, a side of pickle, and, oh, a delightful hot fudge sundae to end the meal. Everything you want – up a level in presentation.

Flash: First Pick

Image from Dreamtime StockArt (paid)

Well, that seems to be the last of them. I need to get down before something stupid happens. Sera thought, tucking her book back inside its bag and then inside her backpack with the rest of her precious store of new library books. She hoped they were all bangers; it wasn’t like she was going to get the opportunity to get new ones anytime soon. Standing on the narrow ledge, she looked over the chaotic, but slowly calming, crowd. After blowing a whistle through her teeth with two fingers, Sera yelled, “Hey, Tall Girl.”

Like most of the females, the tallest of the women present looked up at the shrill sound, and Sera grabbed eye contact before leaping down, praying the woman was as athletic as she looked. Bless instinct, she thought as the woman caught her instead of letting her fall to the metal flooring. Years of cheerleading made Sera an easy catch; she flowed down a solid body very low on the Body Mass Index for a female and patted her catcher’s firm belly once her feet hit the ground.

“Thanks,” she said looking up, and up. The woman was over a foot taller than Sera’s five foot four inches. Noticing the sweatshirt’s logo under the drying blue goop they had been stored in, Sera commented, “Gators, hmm? You on their volleyball team?” She snapped her fingers. “Zanders, the Blocker! Damn, my brother loves you.”

“Thanks, I think,” the college star athlete chuckled.

“Girl, you are amazing on the court.” Sera stuck out her hand. “Sera Lawson, high school dropout, all around Florida woman.”

“Taela Zanders, University of Florida, Junior year, still undecided.” Her black hand encompassed Sera’s firmly without crushing it. “Why the sudden friendliness? You hadn’t even got to the good part of Roses and Reigns.”

“You read it?!?” Sera held up her hand. “No, don’t tell me the ending. I got all three books of the trilogy in my backpack.”

“I’ll kill whoever you want to get book three.”

“Deal, since I think you and I are going to be together.”

Taela leaned forward, her wide shoulders providing privacy in the open space. “Why do you think that?”

“Oh, those boys up there.” Sera waved toward the overhang where some half-dressed human males had paraded through, looking down at them like they were ants. “After each came through, a laser – purple, so hard to pick out all the blue junk – marked a woman. The first guy picked me out, that huge one chose you.”

“Oh god.” Taela palmed her face. “I don’t need this.”

“Yeah, well, aliens. At least I’m assuming. I had hoped if I ever got the UFO probe that I would score me some blue-skinned Ice Barbarians.” Sera curled her lip in disgust. “Not for me to be dyed blue.”

Moving her hand up and down her torso while listening to the shorter woman talk, Taela dark hand gained a pin-point purple shine when level with her sternum. “Anyone else?” she asked. “I only saw the big one, I think.”

“He was hard to miss. I mean, damn, seven foot at least.” Sera waved over to the growing subsection of the crowd, those planning an escape from their alien captors before they even knew anything about anything. “One of those over there. One of the black ones, I think, though hard to tell with all the blue.” Then she nodded to a pair against one of the supporting pillars near the edge of the large space they were in, where the curvy woman had stripped off both their shirts and using them to secure the Hispanic woman’s left arm against her body. “And the two of them.”

“Just five?”

“Just five hunks with abs worthy of licking like ice cream came through. One light for each.”

Taela nodded. “I can’t pick out the purple light. You want to go get the firebreather and join me at the sidelines with the med crew?”

“Sure, although I don’t know how much time we have.” Sera turned toward the crowd where one woman screamed about freedom and rights.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if I was an alien handing out women like candy—”

“You think that is what is happening?”

“Girl, you already indicate you read the same trash as me.” Sera gave her a look over her shoulder, raising both eyebrows. “Tell me a different scenario.”

Taela closed her eyes, straightening up to her full height. “Wish that I could.”

“Right, so what happens next?”

“They gas the newly awoke to separate out the chosen.”

“Righto,” Sera laughed, “It’s like it writes itse…”

The aliens had a different technology than gas, but the results were the same. The women all collapsed instantly.

(Words 785, first published 9/1/2023)

Above the Crowd Series

  1. Above the Crowd – 8/6/2023
  2. First Pick – 8/13/2023

Flash: Above the Crowd

Image from Unsplash

Davon took a second look at the women on the lower decks. Choose one had been the command, but how to choose? Looks were just appearances, the luck of genetics and the kindness of unkind life. Whomever he chose would be his responsibility for as long as he lived, and while pretty would help, attitude would be key. He couldn’t make out a single voice in the cacophony among the kidnapped. He and his successful warriors would each get one, leaving the other sixty or so to be dumped back into storage for future rewards. Rewards for the four of them as long they survived, rewards for their circus and bread opponents (as Mannon named their ring-work) when their luck finally failed.

If he did not choose, they would kill one of the women randomly, or so their alien trainers had informed them. Davon leaned forward, easing the pain and bruises left from operating the mech frame in zero g. Squinting with his interface eye, he focused on details. Most of the women were crying, having appropriate hysterics from being only recently been released from the storage fluids. He and his men would need ones, at least initially, who recovered quickly, adjusted fast. Soaked clothes clung to the bodies, making it impossible to pick out tailoring, everything tinted by the blue fluids. Styles, wealth, individuality stolen with their futures by their kidnapping from Earth.

Who could stand out in those circumstances?

One woman shoved some others back to get space, dark hair and taller than those around her. Leader or bully?

The three furthest from the storage chamber seemed to be chatting somehow over the noise. Promising, but only if his teammates picked up the other two. They were dryer than the others, likely the first ones rolled out, so their relative calm may not be reflective of their adaptability.

He scanned for other outliers.

A busty woman was holding a much smaller woman whose arm folded against her body strangely.. Maybe crushed in the crowd. Neither appealed to him, but Mannon had mentioned a preference for curves. Davon captured her image in his false eye and sent it to his second. His second in command liked taking care of others, it would be good for him to have someone to take care of him.

Davon’s eyes drifted over the crowd and found one monkey had climbed to the mini-ledges supporting the cargo bay structure, where ropes could hook containers for shipment. Barely a hands-width wide, the ledge raised her out of the crowd.

And closer to the overhead lights.

Which the woman needed … since she was reading a fucking book.

Where did she get that?

Okay, he had to get an answer. He snapped her image and sent it to his supervisor. “This one.”

(words 465, first published 8/19/2023)

Above the Crowd Series

  1. Above the Crowd – 8/6/2023
  2. First Pick – 8/13/2023

Flash: Worth the Heartache

Image from

“It’s time for you to go.”  Astrid leaned her head against Saad’s forehead, as they paused at the bottom of the steps leading to the starport’s embarking entrance.

He pressed his hands tighter against her waist. “Say the word and I will stay. I will slay dragons. I will defy the Star Council. Anything, just for another day with you.”

She chuckled through her tears, being well aware of his love of hyperbole after the year they spent together. “I cannot go, and you cannot stay. That is the nature of Compromise.”

“I will think of you always,” he urgently whispered before lightly kissing her lips.

“You lie so pretty.” Astrid stroked his cheek. “But, do, please, think of me fondly once you are back home.”

The Talal’ii prince stepped back, causing people to dodge him as they rushed to make the once-a-day trip offworld. He gave her a slight bow. “If that is all you require, my heart, I shall do so with all my being.”

“It is all I am worthy to ask.” She sunk at her knees, a poor curtsy, a throw-back to before he dragged her to all the parties, but more genuine for all that. “I shall remember you forever.”

He reached toward her, before crushing his palm into a fist just shy of touching her again. “I am not worthy of forever, and you are worthy of so much more. I hope …” Black eyes stared into her purple.

“One year. That is all visitors are allowed here. It is all we can have.” She wiped her tears, stealing one last clear vision of him, before turning on her heel and heading back to her taxi. He stared after her, she felt his eyes, but she never turned around. Once in her vehicle, she pulled away, refusing to see if he still stood there in the reverse camera.

“No, the heartache isn’t worth the game, bastard.” Astrid whispered in answer to a question asked just a local Compromise year ago in this very vehicle. Switching the active mode off, she couldn’t handle a customer today, Astrid joined the traffic leaving the planet’s only spaceport.

(words 360; first published 9/6/2023)