The memory of his touch has never left her heart…or her body.
Finn Connelly has a magic touch—literally. He can see the past by touching objects and read people’s thoughts if he hangs on long enough. It’s called psychometry, and he uses it to be the best private investigator in Summer Park. At least, until his abilities go out of control, leaving him unable to tell the difference between others’ thoughts and memories and his own.
Enter Jazz Zhou, the only woman he ever loved and could never read. Jazz is reeling from nearly losing her closest friends to a serial killer—a man she brought into their lives. When she learns that Finn is suffering because of a connection he shares with one of the killer’s victims, she’s determined to help him.
Their investigation takes them to the killer’s hometown, where they learn the threat to Jazz’s friends isn’t as over as they thought—and neither is their relationship. But the more Finn uses his powers, the more he loses himself. And soon even Jazz’s touch might not be enough to help him claw his way back out of the killer’s memories.
This is the second edition of the same novel originally released in August of 2016.
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It was also the Book of the Day on Just Paranormal Romance 😀
Notice a different look for the covers on some of these pages? That’s because Lingering Touch was originally released through my dear first traditional publisher, Samhain Publishing, Ltd. I believe you can still find print versions of the Samhain editions in the wild. The story itself is the same in both versions
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Short Fiction: The Limo
(THE SUMMER PARK PSYCHICS, Book Three)
Copyright © 2016 Cassandra Chandler
All rights reserved
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.”
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.
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.
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.
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.