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Here's an excerpt from my paranormal romance, Curse Me Not. To find out more about the book or to read my blog, I'd love for you to visit www.elizabethfisherauthor.com. (By the way if you've gotten a message from me with this excerpt, please forgive me. I clicked on the wrong button!)
I thought of Book’s hostile and near-anorexic face and poor Miss Patrice looking lost in her nightgown and robe. I had cleansed a major curse when it should have been a minor one. I had seen a glimpse of something deadly in Book’s aura. While I’d never dealt with a saturated invoker before, I knew from my training Book could seriously hurt someone with his curses. He’d definitely hurt himself.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. I couldn’t allow the police to dismiss this, but how could I convince them to continue the search?
“Elzetta, is there something you can do as a bodywasher?” Cal asked. “That is, since you work with auras, maybe you can pick up something from this room you can use to track him.”
With sad resignation I opened my eyes to look up at the two men.
“Gentlemen, I’m not a psychic. I’m not clairvoyant or precognitive, and I’m definitely not an auravestigist which is exactly what you’re asking for. I don’t even think people can do ESP stuff, although I guess that must sound strange coming from me.”
I found myself having to turn away from their scrutiny before I could continue.
“But I do see auras if the person is in front of me. I know what an aura looks like when it’s healthy and I know what it looks like when a curse has been set on it. I know what an aura looks like at birth and at puberty. I even know what an aura looks like when a person is dying,” I said remembering that last day with Mom a little over a year ago.
With as much resolution as I could muster, I looked from Cal to Detective Griffin and back to Cal again. My eyes were starting to tear up and I forced myself not to blink.
“And I know, from what little I saw of his aura, Claude Book—heaven help him—is a very, very dangerous young man. Oh, I do so wish I could be of more help. I know this must seem like such a wasted effort.”
I stared at Cal willing him to understand. His poker face was back and the detective beside him no longer acted amused. I couldn’t tell if they truly grasped my fears or if they just thought I was wacko. If Griffin’s gentle, almost pitying smile was any indication, I’d put my money on wacko.
Finally, Cal turned toward the detective. “Dwayne, you want to pack up what we’re taking? I’ll walk Miz Swan to her car.”
Very nice. A little too much 'had'. I'd also highly recommend you change Book's name. I stumbled over it every time. Otherwise it sounds very interesting.