It's Live! It's ALIVE! The Sydney Rye Kindle World is live! I am literally dancing around my kitchen with my husband, dog, and daughter I am so excited. And for the next week I'll be posting an excerpt from every launch title starting with…
Sydney Rye and Blue find more trouble than they bargained for when they investigate mysterious break-ins at a posh boarding school.
The day started normally enough. I got up, shuffled to the bathroom, threw water on my face, and did the whole morning routine thing.
That was the end of normal.
When I returned to my bedroom, I noticed Blue sitting bolt upright on his bed, head cocked to the side while he whined softly. Glancing over to see what had caught his attention, I followed my dog’s line of vision to the ghostly figure of a fair-haired teenage girl. To be clear, I don’t believe in ghosts, but also I don’t know what else to call a semi-translucent figure who glows with a blue-white aura and shows up at the foot of my bed unannounced.
“Please do not fear me,” said the ghost. She held her hands out wide and imploring, going for non-threatening. Her British accent surprised me. Looking back, I think sharing headspace with that ghost has improved my vocabulary. It’s disturbing.
Heart slamming into my throat, I leapt toward my end table where I keep a gun. Sensing my unease, Blue immediately took a more aggressive stance and growled at the ghost. He sounded like someone had left an angry motor rumbling. The fact that he could see her reassured me I hadn’t completely lost my mind. I raised the handgun and centered it on the ghost’s chest. My brain scrambled for an appropriate demand or at least a good curse to sum up the situation. I came up blank on both fronts.
“I will explain as much as I can, but time is short.” The Ghost Girl’s words flew out in a steady stream one had to concentrate on to catch. “You will receive a call in a few minutes with a job offer, but I believe the task requires some explanation, hence my presence.”
“Who are you?” I demanded.
What are you? I added silently.
“Who and what I am matters little, but I see that the knowledge is important to you so I will tell you what I can.” The ghost slowly lowered her hands to her sides and straightened. “I am a projection. I do not exist here and now in your room, but there is a real me.” She waved for patience even as my mouth opened to demand a better explanation. “My name is Nadia Ayers. I can read minds, but I cannot control them beyond some very simple commands. Much like you, I seek to rescue the helpless and bring wrongdoers to justice.”
“What do you know about me?” My question held a tad more bitterness than I’d intended.
“I know you were once Joy Humbolt, but circumstances drove you away from that identity and forged Sydney Rye instead.” The smile she gave me was both knowing and sad. “I also know you find your past painful to discuss or even think about, so if I may, allow me to tell you of my purpose here.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” I muttered, laying the gun back on the end table.
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