Publication date: December 7th 2021
Genres: Historical, Paranormal, Suspense

Synopsis:

She sees the future with a touch. A powerful gift in a time of war.
The enemy wants her. The Allies need her.

Addie Brandt is cursed. When she touches someone, or an object that belongs to them, she sees their future, and it’s rarely good. Mocked and teased her whole life, Addie hides from the world in her family’s funeral home. But when her second sight shows her a horrific vision of an attack on the Pearl Harbor Naval base, the gruesome images are too intense to ignore, and she tries to raise the alarm. Will anyone listen?

Federal agent Jack Dunstan needs a miracle. He’s still reeling from the betrayal that nearly decimated his team of agents with paranormal powers, a vengeful Nazi spy with a terrifying ability of his own is out to destroy him, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before America is drawn into the war raging around the world. Hearing rumors of Addie’s vision, he seeks her out, hoping she could be the miracle he’s looking for.

Addie’s not sure she trusts Jack Dunstan. He’s rude, cocky, and insists on calling her curse of second sight a “gift.” But if she wants to save lives and prevent a terrible disaster, she must put aside her fears and doubts and learn to embrace her ability.

With the US on the brink of war and an enemy agent hunting her for her power, Addie must learn to trust Dunstan—and herself—to stop an attack that could change the course of history forever.

A World War II paranormal suspense in the vein of Simone St. James, mixed with a dash of Susan Elia MacNeal’s Maggie Hope series.

Excerpt

Addie Brandt can see the future with a touch. It's early December, 1941, and she's had a horrific vision of an attack on Pearl Harbor. She's determined to raise the alarm, but her effort to report what she's seen to the police doesn't go as she hopes.

“What do you expect me to do?” Sgt. Gillis asked.

Addie’s frustration and anger threatened to boil over. “Can’t you call the Navy or the FBI or someone?”

“And tell them what? A fanciful girl thinks there might be an attack on one of our naval bases at some point in the future? I’m sorry, dear, that’s not what police work is. I can’t call anyone without something solid to go on.” He held out his hand. “Or some kind of proof.”

She stared at his palm as if it held a bomb. Touch him? What good would that do? If the Sight showed her a vision, it would most likely be terrible. And whatever she saw might not happen until next week or next year. She shook her head and the sergeant frowned.

“I thought as much. Why don’t you run on home, Miss Brandt, and forget this foolishness?”

Addie lost the battle to hold her temper. Her cousin Marta liked to say never get a German angry. Or an Irishwoman. The blood of both pumped furiously through her veins.

By golly, she’d do it.

Cool air tickled her skin as she stripped off a glove. Silence fell in the precinct. Addie’s hand hovered over Gillis’s and she cringed. She hadn’t held anyone’s hand since Mother’s, years ago. The day the Sight showed her Mother was going to die.

But she had to. With the fate of so many hanging in the balance, she had to touch him.

She pressed her fingers against his. Instantly, darkness as black as pitch blanketed her mind. Her body seized. Images flashed. Terrifying sensations beat against her brain. It took every ounce of strength she had to tear out of the Sight’s grip.

She opened her eyes to see Sgt. Gillis smirking at her. “Well? Where’s my proof?

Addie scrabbled her glove back onto her hand and shot out of her seat. The chair legs squawked against the floorboards. “I-I can’t,” she said hastily. “I’m sorry.”

“Crazy as a loon,” she heard one cop say as she dashed across the room.

Burning with fury and humiliation, Addie flung open the front door and slammed into a wall. No, not a wall. A man. A powerfully built man, with shoulders as broad as an anchor filling his overcoat and a chest apparently made of iron. She looked up to see a face like Dick Tracy in the funny papers—all angles. Razor sharp jaw, full lips, crooked nose, black hair under a fedora perched at a rakish angle. And eyes the color of brown sugar. Curious eyes that kept her gaze a moment too long.

“Whoa, sister. Where’s the fire?” he said, his voice as deep as the ocean. He smelled like the ocean, too. Fresh, salty-sharp, like he’d been born on Pott’s Beach.

She laughed bitterly. Couldn’t help it, after what the Sight had inflicted on her in the heartbeat she’d held the sergeant’s hand. Addie as Gillis, at the foot of a massive structure engulfed in flames. An ear-splitting pop and the structure shuddered as chunks of burning wood splintered and plummeted down.

She’d ripped herself out of the vision before the fatal moment the scorching embers crashed onto her. Or Gillis, rather. But she knew with certainty the sergeant would die a brutal, fiery death.

Somehow, she made it around the big man she’d slammed into, mighty glad her hands were covered and she couldn’t make contact with him. She’d had enough of the Sight for one day.

Besides, she did not want to know what could fell a giant Redwood tree of a man like him.

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About the Author

Meet award-winning author Janet Raye Stevens – mom, reader, tea-drinker (okay, tea guzzler), and teller of fun, adventurous, occasionally heartbreaking, and stealthily romantic tales.

Derringer Award nominee and winner of the Daphne du Maurier and RWA's Golden Heart® awards, Janet writes mystery, time travel, WWII-set paranormal, and the occasional Christmas romance with humor, heart, and a dash of suspense. She lives in New England with her husband, who's practically perfect in every way, and their two sons, both geniuses and good-looking to boot.

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