BLIND SIGHT (PSI Sentinels: Book Two, Guardians of the Psychic Realm)
Fate can be a cold mistress.
Gabe Nicholetti, reclusive PSI agent, would rather stay on his sailboat, surrounded by water - moored off a remote island in the British Virgin Islands - than deal with the ramifications of the dead woman in his visions.
That woman, Rily Carrigan - a very much alive, for the moment, police detective in Eagle Crest, Oregon - makes it clear she has less than the time of day for the likes of him. Not that it matters.
He only has one purpose. Bring her murderer to justice.
Rily has neither time nor patience for the woo-woo. But she's about to tumble neck deep into that waiting chasm as a murky past she thought long buried rises up to invade her present life.
Together, can they find a way to deny fate and keep Rily alive?
Read an excerpt:
Gabriel Nicholetti stretched out on the bow of his sailboat. He crossed his bare ankles and linked his fingers behind his head. A shooting star arced across the black, pre-dawn, winter sky.
The gentle lapping of the warm, Caribbean water against the hull should have been enough to rock him to sleep.
Under normal circumstances.
That same water should’ve been enough of a barrier to stop the visions plaguing him, disturbing his sleep. Keeping him awake.
Again, under normal circumstances.
Those visions of the last three nights had been troubling. Water, a natural deflector and normally his salvation in such times, had failed him. Miserably.
Right. Who was he kidding? Dead bodies were always troubling. Always miserable. He’d seen his share. More than any sane man should see.
This one, though, for whatever damn reason, was different. This one called to him. Stronger than any in the past. The beautiful blonde stretched out at the edge of some forest floor, her lifeless green eyes staring at him. Through him.
Above, the ship’s flag flapped in a sudden gust of balmy wind. Rain was coming, the hint a bare scent in the briny air. In a few hours though, by the time he made it back through customs, the hint would be a full blown, Caribbean winter squall.
He stared up at the American flag, lit by a small mast light. And sighed.
He was heading back to the States.