Linked

This week's peek comes from Linked, my erotic horror. Throughout the book the heroine, Tori Banks has nightmares which turn out to be real as she's psychically linked to a pair of serial killers. The thing about this book, and why I haven't gone back to reread it, is that all the nightmares in here are ones I actually had. Yeah, makes you wonder, doesn't it?

“I’m Detective Breauchard, Barry’s partner.” He extended his hand and noted both her hesitation and the slight tremble when she finally accepted. “Shall we?” He indicated a nearby table.

“Oh. All right.” Tori looked disturbed by his choice.

Guy let the silence stretch beyond the comfort zone. “I understand you believe you have knowledge of a homicide?”

“I think I might.”

“You might? As in you’re not sure?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

Fighting for patience, Guy made the mistake of glancing at Lana. When he refocused on the woman next to him, he knew she’d seen his date’s annoyed gesture.

“Perhaps you could begin by telling me how you got this information that you may or may not have.”

Tori flinched. “I had a nightmare.”

“Pardon me. I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“I said I had a nightmare. Of that poor woman getting killed.”

Guy snorted. “I see.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Of course I do, Ms. Banks,” he sneered. “We employ a full staff of sleeping witnesses. How else would we ever catch the bad guys?”

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.” Tori’s shoulders slumped.

“No, Ms. Banks, what you shouldn’t have done was take advantage of the good woman who befriended you and her family.”

“What?” His words startled her into looking at him.

“What’s wrong? Are you so bored with our little community that you decided to play the psychic and stir things up?”

“I never—”

“Cut the bullshit, princess. This is New Hampshire, not California. Your Beverly Hills drama queen act may do it for you there but here, we have values. We respect honesty, not hyped-up hysterics.”

“Beverly Hills drama queen,” Tori sputtered. “Since that’s where I’m from, that’s what I must be?”

“Hey, if the shoe fits.” Guy watched her features sharpen with anger and saw something in her eyes that made him question his opinion.

“Then that would make you an asshole, Detective Breauchard,” Tori emphasized the French pronunciation of his name. “Since everyone knows the French are all assholes.”

“My distant family is from Quebec, Ms. Banks, but I assure you, I am as American as you are.”

“That may be.” Tori stood and leaned over the table toward him. “But roots count tremendously and Quebec is the next best thing to France. Forgive me for interfering with your evening. I’ll go now and let you get back to your date.”

Guy watched as she mustered her dignity and swept out the door. Anyone watching would see only her grand exit. If Guy hadn’t seen how her hands were shaking and the hurt and sadness in her eyes when she leaned closer to him, he would have believed it too. But he had seen and that made him wonder if her regal behavior as she left wasn’t the true act. If it was then that meant his assumption that she was an attention-seeking lunatic was wrong too.