Have you ever wished you could read someone else's mind? It
might come in handy when your significant other is clearly peeved but won't
share why, or when you've just met your blind date and wonder what that person
thinks of you. For most of us, this wish is just that—a wish, destined to never
come true. But in paranormal romance, such wishes can and do become reality.
So what happens when a woman can read her lover's mind? In
the world of my Psychic Crossroads series, she would turn into a
frothing-at-the-mouth lunatic. Don't try that at home! But the heroine of the
first two books, Grace, still has an advantage most women don't. She and her
true love, David, share a bond deeper than love or passion. She can feel him,
no matter how far away he travels. She can track him down and, without leaving
home, appear wherever he is to check on him. This powerful link drives their
relationship forward even as it pushes them apart, but the connection goes both
ways—and though it can bring great pleasure, it also exposes each to the
other's emotional and physical agony.
Maybe it's best we can't read each other's minds, or even
sense each other in the way Grace and David do. Variety is not the spice of
life. Mystery is. Grace can't predict David's reactions, despite their psychic
bond, which leads to plenty of surprising, steamy moments. If we could tap into
each other's minds, things would get awfully boring. Not knowing makes real
life interesting—almost has interesting as a paranormal romance.
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Anna Durand is an award-winning writer, a freelance
librarian, and an audiobook addict. She specializes in sexy romances, both
paranormal and contemporary, featuring spunky heroines and hunky heroes. As a
member of Romance Writers of America, she volunteers for two of its chapters—as
membership chair for Hearts Through History and social media chair for Outreach
International. In her previous life as a librarian, she haunted the stacks of
public libraries but never met any hot vampires hunting for magical books.
Intuition (Psychic
Crossroads, Book 2)
Torn apart by their haunted pasts, Grace Powell and her
fiancé David Ransom are struggling to reclaim their passionate bond and build a
normal life — one without danger and paranormal powers. But David can't
renounce his obsession with hunting down Karl Tesler, who abducts and tortures
psychics. David endured Tesler's tactics himself, but despite what Grace
believes, he's not out for revenge.
Tesler covets her unprecedented abilities and her mysterious
connection to a source of limitless psychic power. David will do anything —
even abandon and lie to her — to protect Grace from Tesler.
With a psychic stalker on her trail, Grace charges into a
desperate mission to uncover the truth about David's obsession. But Tesler's
agents are closing in on her, and a terrifying new enemy is rising…
As events drive Grace and David toward a battle of epic
proportions, they must risk everything — their relationship, their lives, and
even their souls — to defeat an enemy who wields unspeakable psychic power.
"Anna Durand has created a new approach to psychic
abilities and it is refreshing and intriguing all wrapped up in a twisting and
turning plot that keeps a reader on the edge of their seat. Intuition is a page-turner and up-late
reader!"—InD'Tale Magazine
"I loved seeing how David's and Grace's relationship
continues to change during the book. If there is a book three I would pick it
up in a heartbeat."—Fanatical Paranormal Romantical
Excerpt
Grace rolled onto her side. Her nose bumped into David's
pillow. She drew in a long breath. The spiciness of his aftershave flooded her
senses, along with another scent—a subtle, masculine smell unique to David.
Indescribable. Delicious. Warmth suffused her, seeping into her heart and mind,
smoldering in parts of her that ached for him. She inhaled another draft of his
scent, her body responding as if he were there, caressing her. He may drive her
nuts at times, but…
Oh, the way he kissed. Her lips tingled from the memory of
it.
A chill whispered over her skin. Every hair on her body
stiffened. Her sixth sense burst out of its slumber, clanging alarm bells in
her psyche. Someone is here.
She bolted upright and whipped her head left and right.
Nobody there. She swung her legs off the bed and pushed up onto her feet,
nabbing her .357 Magnum revolver from the bedside table. A chill trickled down
her spine. Eyes watched. Invisible, ethereal, but real. She turned toward the
doorway. Nothing lurked there.
Why couldn't she pin down the source of the sensation? Her
paranormal radar was blanked out, as if overwhelmed by input.
Psychic energy crackled through her. Behind you. She whirled around, thrusting the gun up, clamped in
both hands, and confronted—
The lamp.
Hell. She'd let her unease blossom into paranoia. Nobody
hunted her anymore. Probably. Tesler wouldn't find her here.
Her cell phone buzzed. A text message had arrived.
David. She
snatched up the phone, tapping the screen until the message popped up. As she
scanned the words, a shiver rattled through her.
"Come to me," it said, "I can help you. 1325
Meroz Road."
She didn't recognize the phone number the message came from,
and no name was given. Oh sure, she'd rush right out to the address texted to
her by an anonymous whackjob.
The phone buzzed again. Another text message: "Your lip
is bleeding."
Her lip? She dabbed a finger on her mouth. It came away wet.
Blood stained her skin. How did the texter know she bit her lip? Her heart
pounded. Without moving, she searched the shadows for a figure, a camera,
something to explain this, though she knew she'd find nothing. A thick curtain
shielded the window. The person sending the messages could either see through
solid objects or had another means of viewing her. Extrasensory means.
The phone tumbled from her hand, clattering on the floor.
No, she was jumping to conclusions. An intruder must've
stolen into the house. With the revolver in hand, she sprinted out of the
bedroom, down the hallway, through the kitchen, and into the living room.
Vacant. All vacant. She rushed back to the bedroom and dug through the closet,
scoured the dresser, even dropped onto her belly to investigate the space under
the bed. No cameras. No stealthy intruders. Not a damn thing. Which left her
with one unthinkable possibility.
Maybe she should call the police.
What for? They couldn't help her with this kind of problem.
"You belong with me."
She jumped. Her head smacked into the bed frame. She
clutched the gun tighter. Where had the voice come from?
No, no, no, not again.
Nausea swelled in her stomach, bile rising high in her throat. The voice did
not originate in this room, or from outside. The source was much, much closer.
Someone rammed the words into her mind.
A psychic intruder just hacked her brain.
Thanks Anna for sharing,
Tina
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