Beyond the Veil
Being a psychic in the small seaside town of Fox Harbor is challenging enough, but winter months are brutal. Not that using his clairvoyant abilities to hunt down lost pets isn’t thrilling, but Lorenzo wouldn’t mind a tiny bit more excitement in his life.
Things get more stimulating when the charismatic Dr. Ian Thatcher takes a romantic interest in him. Unfortunately, their promising evening takes a ghastly turn when an old man dies on Lorenzo’s doorstep, after warning Lorenzo his life is in danger.
Before Lorenzo can say "Give me my old boring life back, please" his home is ransacked, a fiery being tries to burn him to death, and he’s informed he’s the only hope to save the world.
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Beyond the Veil
Being a psychic in the small seaside town of Fox Harbor is challenging enough, but winter months are brutal. Not that using his clairvoyant abilities to hunt down lost pets isn’t thrilling, but Lorenzo wouldn’t mind a tiny bit more excitement in his life.
Things get more stimulating when the charismatic Dr. Ian Thatcher takes a romantic interest in him. Unfortunately, their promising evening takes a ghastly turn when an old man dies on Lorenzo’s doorstep, after warning Lorenzo his life is in danger.
Before Lorenzo can say "Give me my old boring life back, please" his home is ransacked, a fiery being tries to burn him to death, and he’s informed he’s the only hope to save the world.
17.95 In Stock
Beyond the Veil

Beyond the Veil

by S.C. Wynne
Beyond the Veil

Beyond the Veil

by S.C. Wynne

Overview

Being a psychic in the small seaside town of Fox Harbor is challenging enough, but winter months are brutal. Not that using his clairvoyant abilities to hunt down lost pets isn’t thrilling, but Lorenzo wouldn’t mind a tiny bit more excitement in his life.
Things get more stimulating when the charismatic Dr. Ian Thatcher takes a romantic interest in him. Unfortunately, their promising evening takes a ghastly turn when an old man dies on Lorenzo’s doorstep, after warning Lorenzo his life is in danger.
Before Lorenzo can say "Give me my old boring life back, please" his home is ransacked, a fiery being tries to burn him to death, and he’s informed he’s the only hope to save the world.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781956422078
Publisher: Blind Eye Books
Publication date: 03/26/2024
Pages: 320
Sales rank: 1,091,768
Product dimensions: 5.20(w) x 7.90(h) x 0.80(d)

About the Author

S.C. Wynne is a Lambda Award-winning author and has been writing since 2013. She lives in California with her wonderful husband, two quirky kids, and a loony rescue pup named Ditto.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

“Use my body if you must, Agatha. Allow me to be your vessel.” I slumped in my chair, peeking from beneath my lashes at my new client Mrs. Beckom.
Mrs. Beckom was probably late sixties with silver hair, peppered with traces of its original chestnut color. Her slender wrist was adorned with a vintage gold watch with stars and moons etched into the soft metal, and she wore a matching necklace.
The late morning sun snuck through a crack in the thick brocade curtains over the window, backlighting the particles of that dust floated in the dark room. “I’m here for you, Agatha. I can feel you hovering. I beg of you, please let me be the bridge to your sister.”
Admittedly, I was laying it on a bit thick, but Mrs. Beckom seemed receptive enough. I got the feeling she was the type who enjoyed the theatre, so why not put on a show for her? Her brown eyes were wide with wonder and it was obvious she was only too willing to believe anything I said.
However, the attractive blond guy next to her had a smirk on his full lips. He was a bit overdressed for a spiritual reading if you asked me. With his navy silk suit and red tie, he reeked of money just like his more openminded companion. My guess was he worked as a financial advisor, or some other stuffy profession. His long tanned fingers were adorned with chunky silver rings, one with a glittering green stone in particular caught my eye. The ring was nice, if a bit pretentious, but it was the guy’s mocking expression that annoyed me the most. The least he could do was pretend to be impressed. Dazzling clients was no easy task these days. Especially with all the reality TV shows busting fake psychics left and right for scamming people. The con artists really made if difficult for those of us who actually had psychic abilities to make an honest living.
“Is she really here, Great Lorenzo?” Mrs. Beckom asked. We sat at a round mahogany table with tarot cards staged strategically across the polished surface. A glowing crystal ball sat atop the table, smack in the center, and beside that a red candle flickered wildly inside a vintage wax skull. Mrs. Beckom’s chair creaked as she scanned the dimly lit room for airborne spirits. “She’s really truly in the room?”
“Yes,” I hissed, my breath almost causing the candle to snuff. Oops. “She’s with us now.”
“Oh, my.” Mrs. Beckom clutched her vintage necklace, and sniffed the air. “I smell jasmine. That was Agatha’s favorite perfume.”

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