Unlocking the past is the key to their future.
Psychologist Dr. Ari Fairchild researches paranormal activity she doesn’t believe in.
Nick Devlin is a TV journalist unwillingly assigned to cover Ari’s latest case.
Ari doesn’t want her work cheapened on television and can’t respect any journalist involved in such rubbish, even if he does look like Indiana Jones and isn’t any happier about his task than she is. All Nick wants is to get back to the major networks and not follow a ghostchaser around, even if she is beautiful, smart and unlike anyone he’s ever met.
Forced to work together, Ari and Nick quickly discover a growing attraction and hot physical chemistry. But everything changes when Ari can no longer deny that she possesses clairvoyant gifts.
Admitting this will endanger her professional credibility and a potential future with Nick. Not admitting it could destroy the investigation and obliterate any hope of a meaningful relationship. Unless Ari and Nick can find a way to unlock past truths, they have no chance of a future…
General Release Date: 27th October 2020
“Have I got a case for you.”
Dr. Ariadne Fairchild sighed and looked up from her computer. “I’m in the middle of grant writing season, Jim. You know that. I can’t take any investigative work right now.” She tightened the scrunchy that held her black hair in a ponytail and went back to her screen. “Talk to Samir.”
Jim Stevens, head of the university psychology department, ignored her comments. “You’ll want this one, trust me.” He sat down across from her, uninvited, and rubbed his hands as if preparing to conduct a symphony. “And, bonus, you’re going to be on TV.”
That got her attention. Ari gave up on the grant application and swiveled to face her boss. “Negative. You know I don’t do media.” She adjusted her black horn-rimmed glasses and folded her arms. The burn in her chest told her she was already angry at the older man, knowing him well enough to anticipate his next words.
“Now, Ari. You know I don’t go in for the sort of work you do. Researching paranormal activity? Please.” He gave her a sideways look. “But we are, after all, not an Ivy League institution, and you bring in substantial research money. So, I allow it.” He smiled at her, beaming his support, despite his blatant lack of respect for her life’s work.
Ari stared at him, silent. An aura of beige mist rose from the man, billowing around him, signaling the absence of imagination, the inherent, patronizing way he’d always treated her. If he’d never opened his mouth, she would have known exactly how he operated and what he thought of her.
She blinked to get rid of the mist, irritated with herself. Beneath the aura, though, she was getting another feeling, this one harder to blink away.
Foreboding.
Stevens spoke again, uncomfortable with the silence and eager to share what he considered great news. “I got a call from a school counselor this morning, looking to see if we—well, you—can help a family who thinks their house is haunted. Their daughters have been talking about seeing a ghost.”
Ari’s stomach dropped and her limbs stiffened, but she managed to find her voice. “Jim, you know I don’t deal with kids.”
The man raised his palms to halt her objection. “You’ll talk to the parents. That’s all. I already promised you would take the case.” He continued before she could object further, “Shouldn’t take more than a couple days of interviews and maybe going through the house with Samir and that equipment you use.”
She set her jaw, preparing to counter him, but he plowed on.
“Now, I happened to remember that story Channel Nine aired last year for Halloween. The crazy one about the woman who thought her husband transformed into a werewolf every full moon. Remember that? Ridiculous.” He chuckled.
Ari’s breath was shallow. She didn’t want to hear what was coming next.
“I contacted the station manager and proposed they focus on something more ‘real’ this year for Halloween. He jumped at the idea. Good publicity for us, the department and you. Good for the TV station. Win-win.”
He kept talking, openly ignoring her discomfort. “This will be a serious story, okay? Not like that werewolf thing. It’s all set. Halloween is only a week away, which is plenty of time to do the investigation and get some film in the can.” He rose and gestured for her to get back to work. “The investigative reporter from the station will be contacting you today. Name’s Devil or Devilish or something like that. Kind of appropriate for Halloween!” He smirked.
No! I won’t do it, Ari screamed silently at her boss as he left her office. Her fists curled and uncurled, the urge to fight, to run, almost overwhelming. A memory long buried arose like a phantom—a voice admonishing her to stop her foolishness and act her age. What she saw and what she felt weren’t real, for heaven’s sake. She must not talk about such things. The clawing sensation of holding back sobs, of parental disapproval, of disbelief, was agony in her chest.
Ari sucked in a deep breath and stared hard at the birch tree outside her window to clear her senses. She had to stay present.
* * * *
Nick Devlin gazed into the empty coffee pot, frustration boiling over. “Damn!” He slammed his mug onto the counter and reached for the canister above the office microwave.
A voice behind him chuckled. “Pissed about the Halloween assignment? C’mon. It’ll be fun. Like a colonoscopy.” As usual, his cameraman, Rocky Roberts, offered his support in the form of nervous sarcasm.
Nick didn’t turn as he scooped coffee grounds into the filter. “Shut up, Rock. It’s not funny.”
His friend leaned against the counter. “I get it. And believe me, I’m not looking forward to it myself. I hate that Halloween shit. Almost plotzed last year talking to that werewolf guy. He was seriously creepy. Did I tell you about that?”
Nick hit Brew on the machine. “Approximately three hundred times, yes. You were freaked out. Because you’re a pussy.” He rinsed his mug and ran a hand over his face. “But there’s a serious issue here. I’m not an entertainment reporter, Rock. I’m an investigative reporter, remember? Hard news. Politics. The environment.”
“Yeah, yeah. But this is a one-off, right? Because Rita’s out on maternity?”
Nick shook his head. “I’m sick of this small-town TV shit. And this story isn’t going to help me get back to a larger market.” He swore at the ceiling, irritation flaming in his throat. All he’d worked for, all the extra time and effort he’d put in, and this was how he got rewarded. A dumb-ass story about a haunted house. He resisted the impulse to throw a chair across the break room and pulled in a deep breath. “Maybe I should quit. This story could undermine the credibility I’ve managed to accumulate here.
Rocky patted him on the shoulder. “I doubt that. No one’s going to see it or pay attention to it. Not like all the other stories you’ve covered. Those are the ones people know.”
He poured scalding coffee and sipped with a wince. “Possibly.” He headed back to his cubicle. “Looks like I don’t have a choice, anyway. Let’s hope this shrink I have to work with isn’t some crackpot old man who thinks he’s a cross between Sherlock Holmes and Sigmund Freud.”
Rocky laughed. “Listen, no matter what, you’ll make this story a good one. Something you can be proud of. Approach it seriously, even though it’s absurd.”
That was an idea. And it could work. Maybe.
He sat at his desk and read the station manager’s instructions. Department of Psychology. Phone number. Professor Ari Fairchild. What kind of name was that? He typed the name into his search engine and sat up straight. The image in front of him was the last thing he’d expected. A woman. A young one—well, younger than he was. Shining black hair pulled back tightly, horn-rimmed glasses, big brown eyes, red lips. Cheekbones to die for.
She was stunning.
He read the blurb under her name.
Psychologist Ariadne Fairchild is one of the world’s foremost analysts of paranormal phenomenon and the psychiatric sequelae of supernatural experiences. Dr. Fairchild has authored hundreds of peer-reviewed articles and written two books on the subject of poltergeists and the history of human conjecture regarding mystical experience. Dr. Fairchild teaches graduate courses but focuses her energy on research.
Nick’s blood raced. This was who he was going to work with on the haunted house? He felt a little ashamed that this could shift his attitude toward the assignment. It had been a long time since he’d met any interesting women, and if this woman was anything at all, it was certainly interesting.
He picked up his phone and dialed.
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