I’m gearing up to start sharing snippets from the next Summer Park Psychics novel, Whispering Hearts. The excerpts and other things I’ll be sharing about the book will have spoilers in them for Wandering Soul, so you better go read that before proceeding 😉 It’s the weekend, so maybe pick up a copy of Whispering Hearts and binge them both!
Whispering Hearts starts out with some seriously creepy scenes where Rachel is being haunted by the ghosts of Michael’s other victims. I actually have had some readers say it was too much for them! I honestly didn’t realize quite how much these books are Paranormal Romantic Suspense. The second and third books really bring home that Suspense part!
Here’s your first taste — a scene where Garrett is trying to help Rachel, but he doesn’t know the truth behind what’s actually bothering her. While writing it, I would switch back and forth in my mind and picture it from Garrett’s perspective. It was just as terrifying for him, but in a very different way (based in his concern for Rachel).
The Summer Park Psychics, Book Two
Looking back at the house, she saw her mother standing in one of the front windows, arms crossed and condescending smile firmly in place. Hopefully that smile would fade when she realized that Rachel wasn’t coming back. One way or another, she was never coming back.
Rachel stood a little straighter, determined to leave with her head held high. She tried to compose herself while staring at her mother—Lillian—before turning back to Garrett.
The sun glared off the top of his silver car, blinding her for a moment. The car’s window reflected back the palm trees behind them, the open sky and white clouds above…and the two dead women standing over her shoulders.
Blonde hair, blue eyes. Michael had a type.
“Where are you going?”
For a moment, Rachel could only stare in shock. Both women were gaunt, their skin absolutely white, which made the dark circles under their eyes stand out like livid bruises.
The spirits lifted their arms for her to see. Their wrists were mangled, bloodied and torn in the same places Rachel’s had been.
Michael’s victims. Two of the spirits who had begged Rachel not to kill him.
“I’m sorry.” Rachel closed her eyes tight, tears spilling down her cheeks. Hearing the women Michael had killed was bad enough. Seeing them was unbearable.
“Hey,” Garrett’s voice was so gentle it hurt. She felt him dust his knuckles over her cheeks, wiping away the tears—even though more quickly followed. “There’s no reason for you to be sorry.”
“You have every reason to be sorry!” One of the ghosts shouted right next to Rachel, a blast of cold hitting the side of her neck.
Her eyes snapped open as she pulled away from Garrett, lifting her spray bottle. He held up both hands and backed away as if she was holding a gun.
She wanted to laugh, but knew she would sound hysterical.
“Didn’t we suffer enough, Rachel?” one of them asked. “You barely suffered at all!”
The other said, “We told you what he did to us. We warned you not to kill him.”
Rachel tried to ignore the voices. She knew she must look crazed to Garrett. Taking action would only make things worse.
“You killed him anyway. You let him reach us,” the first one said.
Rachel shook her head and tried to cover her ears without setting down her spray bottle.
“Rachel, what’s going on?” Garrett asked. “Talk to me.”
A voice hissed into her ear. “But now we can reach you!”
Icy cold pressed against her wrists and around her neck. The spirits hadn’t figured out how to cause real damage yet. But they were trying.
“Don’t touch me!”
Rachel started spraying in the direction of the voices, saturating the already salty air with concentrated saltwater. Any spirits in her immediate vicinity would be disrupted for a few moments at least—time she needed to use to her best advantage.
She threw open the door and jumped into the back seat, spraying everything. The windows, the seats, the floor, the ceiling. She reached into the front and did the same thing.
Garrett stood outside the car, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. How was she ever going to explain this?
That was a problem for later.
“Get in!” she yelled. “Get in and drive! Please!”
As she slammed her door shut, he ran around to the driver’s seat. He slid behind the wheel and started the car, then peeled away from the curb. Maybe he was trying to get her to the hospital as quickly as possible.
She would jump out of the car if it came to that. She wouldn’t go back to a place packed with spirits, with environments she couldn’t control. The vengeful spirits from her mother’s house would probably check the hospital first anyway.
Rachel didn’t want to jump out of the car. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and sniffed.
“Please don’t take me back to the hospital. They don’t know how to help me.”
“I don’t know how to help you, either.”
His tone was flat. Hopeless. He was trying to help her and it was hurting him. Like always.