A Haunting Love Novel
- Third Time’s the Charm
- Thirteen Days Gone
- Mona & Mason: The Paranormal Chronicles
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Blurb
A ticking clock. A vision of her own demise.
Psychic Charly Yarrow’s curse is about to turn deadly. Ever since she was young, her visions of past and future have haunted her—but never has she foreseen her last day on earth. In thirteen days, the killer will come for her.
Charly’s only lifeline is stern Detective Breck Holstrom, though at first he doubts her unique abilities…until the evidence proves uncanny. Determined, he vows to unravel the cryptic clues in her vision to stop her fate.
Drawn together in a race against time with a serial killer’s twisted game, Breck battles his skepticism while fighting an undeniable attraction. Charly wants to trust him to help her cheat death and solve the mystery shrouding her murder. But she knows better—her visions always come true. As the encroaching deadline creeps closer, Charly must risk trusting Breck with her life...and her heart.
Don’t miss this nail-biting paranormal romantic suspense guaranteed to keep you guessing until the final chapter.
Enjoy this short excerpt!
Holstrom flinched when he saw the woman walk into the room. He was grateful his butt was planted in the chair. Because it would’ve been embarrassing to fall flat on his face.
Charly with a Y.
He’d heard Bailey call her that once, and it was hard not to picture it when thinking her name.
Her full name was Charly Yarrow. He made it a point to remember people like her. The odd ones. The ones with secrets that could come to bite them in the ass. It was a fitting nickname Bailey had dubbed her, Charly with a Y. Considering her last name started with a Y as well. But he knew it was because that’s how Charly also introduced herself to people. “Hi, I’m Charly with a Y.”
READ MOREHer blonde hair was tied back into a loose ponytail. It was nearing the end of October so the days were getting chilly, but not where people pulled all the winter gear out yet. She wore a thick winter jacket, making him think she was the type who got cold easily. The gloves gave that impression as well. Why wear gloves so soon in the year? She wore a light layer of makeup. A touch of pink eyeshadow with sheer pink lip gloss. Or lipstick. He wasn’t positive which one. But her lips were shiny, which made him think lip gloss. The gorgeous tilt of her lips directed his way…
Whatever. He didn’t know why he was focusing on her lips or her looks. Sure, she was a beautiful woman.
But she also claimed to be psychic. Therefore, a nut.
“Detective Holstrom. Thank you for seeing me. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I’m friends with Kade and Bailey.”
He gestured at the empty chair next to his desk. “I remember you. Charly with a Y.”
Her lips beamed with a bright smile as she took a seat. “You obviously heard Bailey say that. Or you heard me introduce myself to someone. No one else but Bailey calls me that. Charly is fine.”
“How can I help you?”
He wanted to get straight to the point and then out of here. Forget the report he should finish. He’d do it tomorrow. Her eyes glittered with disappointment. That what, he didn’t continue her odd conversation about her name? He was sorry he said her name the way he had. The day had been long, and all he wanted to do was leave. Of course, he didn’t have to be rude either.
She averted her gaze, fiddling with her purse sitting in her lap before meeting his tired eyes. He wanted to see her bubbly persona from moments before. Not this sad, weary look. “Well, I assume you remember I’m psychic.”
“I remember you saying that, yes.”
Her lips turned even farther down into a frown, her eyes narrowing in disgust. So now she didn’t want to deal with him. It was a familiar look he saw on people all the time. But he couldn’t blame her for her reaction. He insinuated he didn’t believe her.
He wasn’t saying he didn’t believe her. But it was difficult to believe stuff when he didn’t witness it for himself. Her showing up that day and knocking the glass of tequila out of Kade’s hand could’ve been a mere coincidence. Not because she foresaw him being poisoned.
“I have a crime to report.”
He leaned back in his chair. “In my jurisdiction? Or in yours? Because I know you don’t live in this town.”
She lived across the street from Kade’s new house. It was a good forty-five-minute drive for him. He’d taken the drive many times before it was proven Kade hadn’t killed his wife.
“In mine.”
“Then I don’t know how I can help you. You need to report any crimes that occur where you live in that precinct.”
She shifted on her seat, her shoulders crowding inward as if trying to ward off something he couldn’t see.
“It’s a delicate matter. I thought you might be able to help. But I guess I was wrong. Sorry for taking up your time.”
She started to rise.
“Ms. Yarrow—”
“Don’t touch me!” She flinched, backing up before his hand could make contact with her arm, pushing the chair with her.
Holstrom held up his hands. “I apologize. I only wanted to insist you stay. Is this psychic related? Is that why you’re asking for my help?”
She cleared her throat, nodding.
“Please, have a seat,” Holstrom commanded, glancing around the room, glaring at anyone who dared to watch what was going on. Every person he made contact with averted their gaze.
She gingerly sat down, cowering inward again. He noticed she made a point not to touch anything close to her. Not the desk or the papers lying on it. She barely even sat on the chair with her back resting against it. She was perched on the edge as if waiting to bolt. What a very odd woman.
“Go on.” He pulled his notebook out of his jacket pocket, his pencil poised to take down all the information she could give him. He didn’t foresee getting far because honestly, a psychic? He had a hard time believing it.
“Three days ago I had a vision. A murder.”
(Copyright © 2024 Amanda Siegrist)
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