Happy Halloween kids! Hope your candy bucket will be filled to the brim tonight, lol!
Today, a Tuesday tease from one of my PNR books, befitting the day.
I wrote The Sheriff & The Psychic in about 2 weeks a while back, put it in a computer file, and then forgot about it. When I found it last year I thought it was pretty good ( if I do say so) after re-reading it, and decided to self-publish it. At the time, Magnolia Print had just launched so i sent it to them. Pretty quick I got a response they wanted it and within 2 months it was on the shelves.
Fast, I know.
So, today I’m celebrating that quick rise to publication with a little snippet. Since it’s Halloween, a story about a psychic sounds about right, no? Hee Hee
Here ya go. Enjoy….
The stinging started in her nail beds, and like lightning, shot upward. Leaning back in the chair, she removed her fingers from the keyboard. The burning turned to a cold, wet, numbing. Behind closed eyes, she gave the vision, cloudy at best, time to take shape.
The colors were green. Iris colored one moment, holly-hued the next. Through the haze, she heard a sound, familiar and yet not. A call, distinct and heart-wrenching, for help. Not a human voice. It was too deep, too guttural to be human. An animal, maybe. But what kind?
The clouds moved. A clearing surrounded by what looked like a forest materialized. Thick, rich grass shot up, tall and strong, from fertile soil. The sweet smell of chlorophyll was potent. Suddenly, her eyes began to burn. The cloud dispersed, and flashes of sunlight prevailed.
Then she saw it, almost buried in the thick turf.
The animal’s mid-section rose and fell rapidly, heaving, the breathing labored and hard. The call sounded again, a lonely foghorn with no shoreline in sight. The animal’s nostrils flared, the massive, bulging, red tongue sagging to one side. There was a branding mark on the flank, plain and legible.
A freezing chill iced through her. Death, final and bleak, solidified through her senses..
The scene began to shift, dimming. The fog once again engulfed her senses.
Abruptly, all went black. The animal, the meadow, and the trees ceased to exist.
Silvestra opened her eyes and stared down at her hands. They were cold, and rigid, the nail beds cyanotic, frozen. Flexing them a few times, trying to get the blood back into them, she sighed heavily.
A great weariness swallowed her whole, but she refused to succumb to its strength. Getting up from the chair on legs shaky with fatigue, she moved to the phone. Hesitating only once, she forced herself to dial.
It has to be done. I have no choice.
~~
Cal drove with a reckless speed he couldn’t put a name to.
When Silvestra called, her voice sounding so tired, so fatigued, a spear of passion, razor-sharp, ripped through to his soul. He had to get to her. Fast.
Throwing the car into park, he tore from it in one brisk motion. Jake met him at the opened front door.
“Come on in, Cal. Shy’s in the den with Mabel.”
“Is she all right?” he asked, removing his hat. “When she called, I thought something happened to one of you.”
Jake ran a hand through his thick salt and pepper hair and sighed. “No, we’re fine. But Shy’s, well, she’s a little out of it right now. Always gets that way after…”
“After what?”
The older man stared up at the Sheriff and shook his head. “Think I’ll let her tell you.”
They entered a spacious wood-paneled room. Cal’s eyes immediately were drawn to the small petite body, lying across an oversized floral couch. Seeing how pale and languid she was, formed a lump in his throat.
“Cal,” Mabel said, with a small smile. “Thanks for coming. Here’s the Sheriff now, darlin’. Tell him what happened.”
When she turned towards him, his heart stopped. A deep line of worry was etched into her delicate forehead. The elegantly shaped hands he’d held in his own just hours before were trembling. The dictates of his job were pushed from his mind. All he could think about was gathering her up into his arms, and holding her until all the worry, all the dread washed away. An unfamiliar feeling shot through him like a bullet.
Protection.
He wanted to protect this woman, shelter and shield this wonderfully desirable woman, for the rest of his life.
Silvestra tried to sit up. The effort looked almost too much for her.
Crouching next to the couch, Cal cradled one of her hands in his and said, “Why don’t you just lie here and tell me what happened, Silvestra.
Dull eyes looked up at him.
Taking a deep breath, she began. “I was working down at the guest house. Suddenly, my hands started to go numb. That’s the way it usually starts, with a tingling in my hands.”
“The way what starts?” he asked, rubbing icy knuckles with the pads of his fingers.
Hesitating for a moment, lips trembling, she swallowed.
“It’s okay, Shy,” Mabel said. “Cal will understand.”
Silvestra stared up at him. “My visions. I can see…things…in my mind. Things…other people can’t.”
He stared at her for a moment, his eyes briefly widening. “Go on.”
“When my hands go cold like that, I know something is going to come to me. I can’t fight the visions, they’re too powerful. They come whether I want them to or not. I sat back and let this one come. That’s when I saw the cow.”
“The Bolton cow? The dead one?”
Chestnut-colored waves shook around her head. “No, another one. Similar, but different. The brand on the flank read CR. A large curlicue C with the R inside the opening.”
“That’s the Cambdon ranch, out by Winchester,” Cal said. “Was the cow alive or dead?”
Running her tongue over her lips she said, “Dying. I watched it take its last breath.”
“Here, darlin’ have some of this.” Mabel gave her a glass filled with an icy liquid.
“What does this mean?” Cal asked after she’d taken a large draft. “Is this something that’s happened, will happen, what?”
“The cow is dead, of that I’m sure. And I don’t think it died like the Bolton one.”
Cal kept his face calm as years of law training had taught him. “How then?”
“The feeling is hazy, but I don’t sense it was a natural death. And there might have been another one with it. I can’t be sure. Everything went dark before I could see more, but I think I can describe where it was. The area’s very distinctive.”
“Go ahead.” He took out a small notepad and began jotting down what she told him, her voice breaking once from fatigue. Cal stopped writing, and gave the glass back to her, prodding her to drink.
“I know that place. It’s part of the Cambdon ranch,” he said. “Out on the back border of the property.”
Standing, Cal addressed Jake. “I’ll swing out there right now and see what’s up.”
“I’m going with you,” Silvestra said, rising from the couch.
“That isn’t necessary.”
When she set her lips into a thin, firm line, he was at once enticed and angered. The stubborn tilt of her square chin made Cal’s mouth water. He wanted to trace his lips down and around its edge.
“Shy’s done stuff like this before, Cal,” Jake said. “Helped police with investigations and such. She’s used to seeing unpleasant things if that’s what’s worrying you.”
Cal remained silent, staring at Silvestra. Even as she pulled herself up off the couch, he could see how unsteady and wobbly her legs were.
“It’s true, Cal,” Mabel said. “And she might be able to help.”
He continued to stare, silently weighing their words. Silvestra squared her small shoulders and for a second he felt a sense of pride at the unyielding caste in her yellow eyes. Then, the Sheriff saw something else, something he’d not noticed previously: strength.
“You can come. But when we get there, keep out of the way. Understand?”
Silvestra nodded.
~~
Watch the trailer, here:
Add it to your Goodreads want-to-read list here: GR
Happy Halloween! ~ Peg
Peggy Jaeger, Author 