Cologne
Spring 1634
“Agreed.”
1635: The Wars for the Rhine, by Anette Pedersen
“In David Lodge’s campus novel Changing Places, two college professors–one American, one British–swap teaching roles for a year.”
I’d Rather Be Reading: The Delights and Dilemmas of The Reading Life, by Anne Bogel
“Down on the southernmost tip of England lies a quaint fishing village in the county of Cornwall.”
Tropic of Stupid, by Tim Dorsey
Cair Paravel, Grantville, Early Spring 1635
They were on holiday, enjoying the warmest day of the year yet on the broad back porch of the rambling old house named after a castle in Narnia.
Second Chance Bird, by Garrett W Vance
“Of all the projects in my professional career, I am setting off on this one with the most serious misgivings.”
The Answer Is… by Alex Trebek
When Lyndon Johnson requested airtime one evening at the end of March 1968, network television bosses in the know assumed the president planned to address the nation on the growing conflict in Vietnam.
Bag Man by Rachel Maddow and Michael Varvitz
“I don’t like to start with an apology–there’s probably even a rule against it, like never ending a sentence with a preposition–but after reading the thirty pages I’ve written so far, I feel like I have to.”
Later, by Stephen King
“What prepared you for your incredibly long successful career as a freelance MAD writer?”
“Some say that as a baby I gurgled in 4/4 time.”
Frank Jacobs: Five Decades of His Greatest Works.
The Upper Vogtland
June 1635
“They’ve passed on, Georg,” said Wilhelm Kuefer, as soon as he came down the ladder.
1635: The Eastern Front, by Eric Flint
Harry Potter and the Phlosopher’s Stane(Scots Edition),2017, translated intae Scots by Matthew Fitt:
“Mr and Mrs Dursley, o nummer fower, Privet Loan, were prood tae say that they were gey normal, thank ye verra much.”
Small aside-my spellcheck has just inquired as to whether I require medical assistance. 
“Kin Stewart used to be a time-traveling secret agent.”
Here and Now and Then by Mike Chen
“He lay on the brown, pine-needled floor of the forest, his chin on his folded arms and high overhead the wind blew in the tops of the pine trees.”
For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway
“A pair of headlights inched down Schnebly Hill Road, down from the Mogollon Rim toward red rock-rimmed Sedona, eleven treacherous miles below.”
Edge of Evil, by J.A. Jance