Publisher: Calliope Romance (Musa Publishing)
Length: Novel (81,000 words)
Setting: North Carolina
Subgenre: Paranormal romance
Heat level: Behind closed doors
Warnings: Strong language
The psychic didn’t go looking for love, but she should have seen it coming.
Marcia Andrews is a freelance psychic consultant. Sick of living hand to mouth, she accepts a contract with Raleigh Police. A new gang called The Cardinals is terrorizing The Triangle, and Marcia gives the department an edge in tracking them. Help that she is, one cop isn’t so keen on her involvement, and makes sure she knows it.
Detective Nat McCoy would rather see Marcia in his bedroom than the bullpen. The gorgeous Scotsman isn’t the typical chauvinist pig, though. He’s keeping a secret that even the psychic doesn’t anticipate.
A close encounter with a Cardinal’s bullet knocks Marcia off her game when the police need her most. She loses hours to trances and ghosts haunt her sleep. She can hardly function, and everything she thought she knew about playboy McCoy suddenly seems questionable. McCoy thinks he knows the cure for what ails her—him. But can she trust him?
He crouched down beside me in the car door and rested his hands atop his thighs. His smile was somewhere between letch and know-it-all. “Is it the accent, love? You love the burr, don’t you? You want me to sing to you?”
“Goodbye, McCoy.” I put my hand on the door handle and tried to pull, but Nat pushed against it.
“Let me buy you dinner, Marcia.”
“Don’t you have a girlfriend to buy dinner for?”
He knit his brows and his smile wilted. “Who?”
Realization dawned and showed as his features relaxed. He shrugged. “Mae? Well, that’s over. Been over since winter.”
“Well, that was fast. What was that, three weeks? Hardly a record, even for you. Also, you don’t seem too broken up about it. Must have had some pretty good rebound ass, huh?”
He scoffed. “Wasn’t meant to be. Speaking of couplings, you never answered my question from earlier. You hooking up with someone? I don’t like beating around the bush, so I’m asking you outright. I’d appreciate an up-front answer.”
It was a direct question with a simple answer, but I didn’t want to give Nat the satisfaction. I blinked like a coquette and smiled at him until Laura knocked on the restaurant window and gave him a what’s up? shrug. She made some exaggerated pointing gestures toward her phone.
“We need to get to the station, I’m guessin’,” Nat said.
“Have at it, Red.”
He stood. “I’ll have at you. You’ll let that guard down eventually, and ol’ Natty boy will be right there waiting to swoop in.”
“Give it up.”
“You want me, Marcia. Admit it.”
I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth and worried at it for a moment. Of course I wanted him. Maybe twice in a row before sending him home to his own bed. “Okay. Fine. I’d also like my favorite childhood soap opera Santa Barbara to come back, but that’s not going to happen, either.” I shut the door and started the car.
As I backed out, the expression on Nat’s face was one of victory. Oh, if only he knew what a pyrrhic one it was. I was pretty sure he had no idea what kind of tree he was barking up.