Through My Eyes

ISBN Digital: 9781628308495
ISBN Print: 9781628308488
Page Count: 368
Word Count: 90680
Rating: Spicy

Sasha Bellwood hates being psychic, but is forced to deal with her abilities when she witnesses a murder through the eyes of the victim. She is not fond of skeptics.

Detective Reed McIntyre hates being stuck on the cold case desk. Almost killed in the line of duty, he's itching to get back into the action. He thinks psychics are frauds.

With Sasha's abilities increasing daily, the two must overcome their suspicions of each other and their growing attraction to track down a serial killer before he strikes again.

Unfortunately, the murderer already has both in his sights and is stalking them through the streets of Memphis.  How far can Sasha push her powers of the mind, and will she and Reed survive to claim a future together?


“Miss Bellwood, don’t blame Dr. Anderson. I called this afternoon and asked for her help in contacting someone who has whatever it is you have.”

“I do not have a disease, Mr. McIntyre. I have highly developed ESP skills and can occasionally find things that are lost. So far, that does not include bodies. Goodnight.”

The elevator doors opened and I marched inside. To my dismay, so did McIntyre.

“Allow me to explain. Can I buy you a cup of coffee? I really do need help.”

“Try the yellow pages. Look under the heading of psychics. I’m sure you can find one that meets your criteria.” I jammed my finger on the first floor button and held it there.

He ran his hand through his overgrown dark brown hair. It curled in the nape of his neck and over his ears. He needed a trim. Even so, I found it attractive, and then kicked myself for noticing. I wanted him gone.

“Miss Bellwood, I don’t have much in the line of social graces, nor do I have the gift of gab. I’ve always considered psychics charlatans, one step ahead of the bunko squad. The fact I’m even thinking about consulting one shows my desperation.”

He wanted to use my abilities he didn’t believe in to find a couple of bodies? Was he kidding?

“And how does this make me want to help you?”

“I put that badly. I’m not suggesting you’re a con artist. I know you don’t take money from gullible people, gaze into a crystal ball, and tell them what they want to hear. I just don’t know where else to turn.”

The frown on his face once again deepened the lines in his forehead and from nose to mouth. The muscles of his jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. It dawned on me his chin was several inches above the top of my five-foot-four-inch height. In the close confines of the tiny elevator, I also realized he possessed a lean body. I shook my head.

For the love of God, get a grip.

My anger drained away, and I was left with his emotions swirling in my mind. The man was worried and more than just a little frightened. I also caught a sense of desperation along with something else.

A vision flashed in front of my eyes. I saw him crouched next to something in a dark alley. Other people stood staring at what I instinctively sensed to be the body of a woman. Reed McIntyre had been a homicide detective.

He was also angry.

I opened my mouth to tell him goodbye when another picture sliced through my mind. I saw a woman with long hair walking and clinging to a man as though needing support. His expression was one of such twisted hate it distorted his face into a malevolent mask. I almost gasped out loud. Then, I realized I viewed a moving picture. Was this the couple of last night?

I came to an abrupt decision.

Copyright © 2018 The Wild Rose Press, Inc.