Intuition
Psychic
Crossroads
Book
Two
Anna
Durand
Genre: paranormal romance
Publisher: Jacobsville Books
Date of Publication: 6/15/2015
ISBN: 978-1-934631-71-3
ISBN: 978-1-934631-74-4
ASIN: B00XK88MB8
Number of pages: 270
Word Count: 106,000
Cover Artist: Lisa A. Shiel,
Five Rainbows Services
Book Description:
Book
2 in the multi-award-winning Psychic Crossroads series
Ultimate power comes at the
ultimate price.
Torn apart by their haunted
pasts, Grace Powell and her fiancé David Ransom are struggling to reclaim their
passionate bond. She yearns for a normal life — one without danger and
paranormal powers — but David can't renounce his obsession with hunting down
rogue scientist Karl Tesler, who abducts and tortures psychics. David endured Tesler's
tactics himself, but despite what Grace believes, he's not out for revenge.
Tesler covets her unprecedented
abilities and her connection to a vast and mysterious source of psychic energy
known as the Golden Power. He will stop at nothing to possess her, and David
will do anything — even abandon and lie to her — to protect Grace from the mad
scientist.
With a psychic stalker on her
trail, Grace charges into a desperate mission to uncover the truth about
David's obsession and his secret past. But Tesler's agents are closing in on
her, and a terrifying new enemy is rising…
As events drive Grace and David
toward a battle of epic proportions, they must risk everything — their
relationship, their lives, and even their souls — to defeat an enemy who wields
unspeakable psychic power. Can a bond borne of true love save them, and the
world?
Excerpt:
Grace Powell
slammed the front door. The cool air inside the house flushed away the sultry
October heat pasted to her skin. She stalked across the living room, down the
hall, and into the bedroom. She fumbled for the light switch, her fingers
slipping off the plastic. Dammit. No one but David Ransom detonated her temper
like this. She flicked the switch, and light flooded the room. The bed stood
empty, the sheets crumpled at the foot.
They'd fled the
house in a near-panic, racing from their home to the Cincinnati airport with
tires screeching, all because of a thirty-second phone call David received at
one a.m. Another tip from a questionable source. Another threadbare clue in his
quest for vengeance. Another search that yanked him away from Grace. Away from
their home, their life.
The emptiness of
the bed tore at her heart like tiny claws. Sharp. Hot. Fresh tears pricked her
eyes, and she gnawed her lip to stave off the downpour. No crying.
She fingered her
engagement ring. A tear sneaked out of her eye to roll down her cheek, painting
a hot trail on her skin. No crying, dammit.
She resisted the
impulse to tap into their telepathic bond and check on her fiancé. It was an
invasion, one she understood all too well, but how else could she know David
was all right? She had to trust their latent connection, however faint, to warn
her. If he stumbled into trouble, though, what could she do from here, over a
thousand miles away?
Her heart
clenched. Losing her parents ripped her world asunder. She could not lose David
too. Her head told her she wouldn't, yet the fear chilled her down to the
essence of her being.
She trudged into
the bedroom, kicking off her shoes. The lonely tear crept into her mouth,
infecting her tongue with a salty tang. She tugged the cell phone out of her
jeans pocket and tossed it onto the bedside table. Her muscles, stiff and sore,
begged for a rest. She collapsed onto the mattress on her back. Her gaze hit
the ceiling, where little acoustic balls clung to the paint, stuck there
against their will. I know the feeling.
When they'd
reached the security checkpoint at the airport, she'd longed to plead with
David to stay. Instead, she cranked her lips into a smile, pecked a kiss on his
cheek, and all but shoved him through the gate. Her stomach wrenched into knots
recalling that moment, as he strolled into the main terminal. When he paused to
glance back, she prayed he would change his mind. But he simply waved, then
strode out of sight.
Grace rolled
onto her side. Her nose bumped into David's pillow. She drew in a long breath.
The spiciness of his aftershave flooded her senses, along with another scent—a
subtle, masculine smell unique to David. Indescribable. Delicious. Warmth
suffused her, seeping into her heart and mind, smoldering in parts of her that
ached for him. She inhaled another draft of his scent, her body responding as
if he were there, caressing her. He may drive her nuts at times, but…
Oh, the way he
kissed. Her lips tingled from the memory of it.
A chill
whispered over her skin. Every hair on her body stiffened. Her sixth sense
burst out of its slumber, clanging alarm bells in her psyche. Someone is here.
She bolted
upright and whipped her head left and right. Nobody there. She swung her legs
off the bed and pushed up onto her feet, nabbing her .357 Magnum revolver from
the bedside table. A chill trickled down her spine. Eyes watched. Invisible,
ethereal, but real. She turned toward the doorway. Nothing lurked there.
Why couldn't she
pin down the source of the sensation? Her paranormal radar was blanked out, as
if overwhelmed by input.
Psychic energy
crackled through her. Behind you. She whirled around, thrusting the gun up,
clamped in both hands, and confronted—
The lamp.
Hell. She'd let
her unease blossom into paranoia. Nobody hunted her anymore. Probably. Tesler
wouldn't find her here.
Her cell phone
buzzed. A text message had arrived.
David. She
snatched up the phone, tapping the screen until the message popped up. As she
scanned the words, a shiver rattled through her.
"Come to
me," it said, "I can help you. 1325 Meroz Road."
She didn't recognize
the phone number the message came from, and no name was given. Oh sure, she'd
rush right out to the address texted to her by an anonymous whackjob.
The phone buzzed
again. Another text message: "Your lip is bleeding."
Her lip? She
dabbed a finger on her mouth. It came away wet. Blood stained her skin. How did
the texter know she bit her lip? Her heart pounded. Without moving, she
searched the shadows for a figure, a camera, something to explain this, though
she knew she'd find nothing. A thick curtain shielded the window. The person
sending the messages could either see through solid objects or had another
means of viewing her. Extrasensory means.
The phone
tumbled from her hand, clattering on the floor.
No, she was
jumping to conclusions. An intruder must've stolen into the house. With the
revolver in hand, she sprinted out of the bedroom, down the hallway, through
the kitchen, and into the living room. Vacant. All vacant. She rushed back to
the bedroom and dug through the closet, scoured the dresser, even dropped onto
her belly to investigate the space under the bed. No cameras. No stealthy
intruders. Not a damn thing. Which left her with one unthinkable possibility.
Maybe she should
call the police.
What for? They
couldn't help her with this kind of problem.
"You belong
with me."
She jumped. Her
head smacked into the bed frame. She clutched the gun tighter. Where had the
voice come from?
No, no, no, not
again. Nausea swelled in her stomach, bile rising high in her throat. The voice
did not originate in this room, or from outside. The source was much, much
closer. Someone rammed the words into her mind.
A psychic
intruder just hacked her brain.
About the
Author:
Anna Durand is a
multi-award-winning writer, a freelance librarian, and an audiobook addict. She
specializes in sexy romances, both paranormal and contemporary, featuring
spunky heroines and hunky heroes. In her previous life as a librarian, she
haunted the stacks of public libraries but never met any hot vampires hunting
for magical books.
Website: http://www.annadurand.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheAnnaDurand
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/annadurand
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/Anna_Durand/
Authorgraph: https://www.authorgraph.com/authors/TheAnnaDurand
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