Lingering Touch

The Summer Park Psychics, Book 3

Finn is the best Private Investigator in Summer Park, thanks to his psychic gift of reading the history of objects through his touch. But when he tries to track down the psychopathic ghost threatening the woman he lost—and still loves—he’s not sure who’s the hunter and who is the hunted.

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“I loved loved loved the end, when we finally get to see all the characters from these books together.” — 5-star Goodreads review

“…the connection with the earlier books in the series is well done.” — 5-star Amazon review

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His touch can reveal the past—but some memories refuse to stay buried.

Finn Connelly has a magic touch—literally. His psychic power of psychometry lets him see the past by touching objects and even read people’s thoughts if he lingers long enough. It makes him the best private investigator in Summer Park, until his abilities spiral out of control, blurring the line between his own memories and those of the people he touches.

Jazz Zhou is the one woman Finn can never read—and the only one he’s ever loved. After the terror of the serial killer’s reign in Summer Park, she just wants to heal. But when she learns that Finn is being haunted by fragments of the killer’s memories, she realizes the darkness isn’t just in his mind—it’s taking root in his soul.

As their rekindled connection deepens, so does the grip of the past on Finn. The more he uses his powers, the more the killer’s presence consumes him, leaving him unable to trust his own thoughts. To save him, will Jazz confront her own fears and dive into the dark spaces of Finn’s mind before the past pulls him under completely?

Main Content: Approximately 73,930 words, 347 (5.5 x 8.5) pages. Intended for mature readers.

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Teaser/Excerpt:

The whirlpool that ensnared him vanished. Finn was on all fours on the floor, his right knee sending sharp spikes of pain to his brain. Before he could register what was going on, a strong, slender hand clasped his right wrist and pulled that arm out from under him, then twisted it around behind his back. His assailant jammed their knee into his back, further throwing him off balance so that he fell forward onto his face.

“Struggle and I will dislocate your shoulder.”

Jazz.

Christ, her voice was sexy even when she was pulling his arm out of its socket. Trying to, anyway. She twisted his arm a bit further, just like he had taught her, making pain arc through him intense enough to beat out the throbbing in his knee for a moment.

“Ow.”

The pressure lessened a miniscule amount. “Finn?”

Dammit. Why was he flattered that she knew it was him from one word? His idiotic heart was doing flips in his chest, as if it didn’t remember her stepping on it. Repeatedly.

“Hi, sweetie,” he said. “Thought I’d drop by and check out the gallery for old time’s sake.”

“In the middle of the night.”

“I was trying to avoid an awkward encounter.”

“How’s that working for you?”

Man, he’d missed the snarky sarcasm. Truly, he had. He chuckled, face against the hard wood, waiting for her to be ready to let him up. Her weight disappeared from his back. She kept her grip on his wrist, though, and used it to help him turn over.

She was standing above him, long legs silhouetted against light that filtered in from the doorway. If she dropped to her knees, they could pick up right where they left off. More meaningless sex. More dashed hopes.

Not this time.

“Do you mind?” There was a bite to his tone that seemed just about right for how he was feeling.

Instead of stepping away, she bent down, sending his heart and other body parts into overdrive. Maybe meaningless sex wasn’t such a bad thing. But then she gripped both his hands to help him up, and his lust instantly flipped to panic.

They were touching skin-to-skin. Their hands were touching skin-to-skin. At least, one of them. It might be enough for him to be pulled into her thoughts, to lose himself there.

Jazz was the only person in his life he had never been able to read. But that was before his powers went off the rails. He didn’t want to read her thoughts now. He didn’t want to see that she really didn’t give a damn.

“Let go!”

She jerked back her hands as if he was made of lava. “Fine. Keep your ass on the floor.”

“Come on, Jazz. Could you just give me a minute to try to get my bearings?”

“Once you do, find the door and get the hell out of my gallery.” She walked to the wall near the door and flipped on the lights, blinding him.

He held up his arm to shield his eyes. “Right. Go for the weak spots to disable your opponent.”

“That’s what you taught me to do.” She let out a sigh. “What are you doing here, Finn?”

Something in her voice was off. She sounded tired in a way that went beyond the physical. He’d never known her to be anything but charged with enough energy to power the state. Lifting himself on his elbows, he finally laid eyes on her again.

Damn…

Her skin was flawless, shining over her smooth cheekbones and highlighting the graceful curve of her jaw. Her black hair fell over her shoulders in thick locks. It was longer than he remembered. She looked thinner too. She didn’t have the weight to spare, and his worry grew.

Her eyes were the same, though. Two spheres of onyx sparkling with intelligence and passion. Her lips were full and lush. He couldn’t stop staring at them.

Memories flooded his mind, but at least this time, they were his own. He remembered those lips pressed against his body, how her long legs felt wrapped around his waist, how she would smile at him and make him feel as if he was the only man on Earth.

Finn’s breath caught in his chest. Gorgeous wasn’t a strong enough word to describe Jazz. Her presence filled the room, commanded him to focus on her and her alone.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Finn didn’t have to ask what she meant. He scowled and lay back flat on the floor, covering his face with his hands. Jazz was forged from iron. Unyielding. No wonder he could never read her.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” he said.