A woman discovers an impossible connection that transcends time and place in this stirring, unforgettable novel from the New York Times bestselling author of The Memory Thief. “A splendid mix of time travel, romantic yearning, and moving on after grief.”— Publishers Weekly Isabel Griffin has done her best to move on since her boyfriend, Max Adair, vanished without a trace eight years ago, leaving her heartbroken—and pregnant. Eerily enough, this isn’t the first time someone Isabel loves has gone missing. When she was sixteen, her mother disappeared, and her father became obsessed with finding his long-lost wife—at the expense of parenting Isabel. Determined not to repeat her father’s mistakes, Isabel works hard to become a respected archaeologist and a loving mother to her daughter, Finn, a little girl with very unusual abilities. But while Isabel is on a dig in Barbados, she receives a disturbing phone call. The hauntingly familiar voice on the other end speaks just four words— “Isabel. Keep her safe.” —before they’re disconnected. Isabel tries to convince herself that the caller can’t possibly be Max. But what if it is, and Finn is in danger? As one mysterious event after another occurs, she can’t shake the feeling that, despite what everyone else believes, Finn’s father is alive—and he’s desperately trying to reach her. “Moving effortlessly between modern-day South Carolina and nineteenth-century Barbados, Emily Colin takes her readers on a passionate and sweeping tale of a woman haunted by a loss she can’t explain, and a future she can’t yet choose. Lavishly plotted and expertly paced, with characters as richly drawn as their settings, The Dream Keeper’s Daughter explores what it means to follow our hearts—even at the risk of losing what we hold most dear. I was captured from the first page and, like Colin’s lovers who are fighting time and space to be reunited, came up for air only after the remarkable journey was complete.” —Erika Marks, author of The Last Treasure “In The Dream Keeper’s Daughter, Emily Colin thins out the line between present and past, dream and reality, and allows you to cross over into a haunting world that will make your heart race, weep, and celebrate things that are lost and found. This story immerses you in a time that should not be forgotten and explores the infinite rippling effect of decisions, guilt, accountability, and love.” —Samantha Sotto, author of Love and Gravity Praise for Emily Colin’s The Memory Thief “Mesmerizing . . . dazzlingly original and as haunting as a dream.” —Caroline Leavitt , author of Pictures of You “[A] richly emotional tale . . . a writer to watch.” —Joshilyn Jackson, author of A Grown-Up Kind of Pretty Emily Colin wrote her first romance novel in the fourth grade and never looked back. Today, she is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of books with kissing, magic, swordplay, and lots of banter. If it's got romance in it, she writes it! When she doesn't have her nose in a book, you can find her making comfort food, chasing her badly behaved dog, or drinking mochas by the sea.   Isabel I am on my knees, the sun beating on my back and dirt from long- dead bones sifting through my gloved fingers, when my cell- phone rings. Focused as I am on the dig, the phone’s shrill summons startles me. I jolt upright and lose my balance, falling on my butt and send- ing a cloud of dirt into the air. Behind me, I hear Jake, one of my graduate students, let out what can only be described as a guffaw. I swivel to glare at him and he smothers it into a cough, looking abashed. Color creeps up his cheeks, already reddened from the sun and wind. I assume the phone call will be from my supervisor, back at the College of Charleston. Or from my dad, who keeps Finn, my seven- year-old daughter, when I do fieldwork. Squinting to make out the number, I try to suppress the instinctive, icy panic I feel whenever the phone rings: It’s the school. Finn is gone. She was on the play- ground at recess and now they can’t find her anywhere, it’s like she vanished into thin air. It’s not useful to react this way, I admonish myself. It’s not pro- ductive. But I can’t help it. For all my years of mixed martial arts training and a black belt in judo, I still don’t feel like the world is a safe place, a place where people stay. Then I see who’s calling me, and I forget Jake, forget Finn, forget everything but the three innocuous little letters that have appeared on my screen. Max . The phone rings again, but my hands are shaking so badly that it takes what feels like forever to get my gloves off, and then two tries before I can answer the call. My heart beats in triple time as I press the phone to my ear. “Hello?” I say, and then, when there’s no re- sponse, “Max? Is that you?” There is silence on the other end of the line, and then, as if com- ing from the end of a long, long tunnel, laced with static, a voice I thought I’d