Publisher Description

A haunting vision reveals a ghostly grave in the latest Bay Island Psychic Mystery from the author of Occult and Battery.Whoever said that dead men tell no tales has never met Cass Donnovan . . .Cass has always relied on her abilities to guide her, but after communications with a ghost land her in the middle of a murder investigation, she has to wonder if her gifts are really more a curse.Cass knows she is meant to help track down the killer-much to the chagrin of local law enforcement--when the apparition leads her to a dead body on the beach near her psychic shop, Mystical Musings. But the police are not the only ones who wish Cass would stick to reading palms. Someone is trying to scare her off, and it will take all her powers of premonition to catch the killer before Cass herself becomes the next victim . . .

Author Biography

Lena Gregory is also the author of Death at First Sight and Occult and Battery, the previous Bay Island Psychic Mysteries.

Review

Praise for Occult and Battery

"Family secrets, old mansions, and a growing list of murder victims—these elements and more blend together to make an intriguing as well as entertaining cozy mystery."—RT Book Reviews

"It's fast-paced, [Gregory] never misses a beat. There's mystery mixed with just a small hint of romance and paranormal activity. It's the perfect blend for cozy mystery fans. I'm hoping to read more in this captivating series."—Socrates Book Review

Praise for Death at First Sight
 
"As breezy and salty as a gust of wind off the chilly bay waters."—Juliet Blackwell, New York Times bestselling author of the Witchcraft Mysteries
 
"An intriguing opening to a fun new series."—E. J. Copperman, national bestselling author of the Haunted Guesthouse Mysteries
 
"The future shows much success for this series! Fun, vibrant characters (as well as a sexy smolder or two for good measure) give the novel just the right tone."--RT Book Reviews

Promotional

A haunting vision reveals a ghostly grave in the latest Bay Island Psychic Mystery from the author of Occult and Battery.

Review Quote

Praise for Occult and Battery "Family secrets, old mansions, and a growing list of murder victims--these elements and more blend together to make an intriguing as well as entertaining cozy mystery."-- RT Book Reviews "It's fast-paced, [Gregory] never misses a beat. There's mystery mixed with just a small hint of romance and paranormal activity. It's the perfect blend for cozy mystery fans. I'm hoping to read more in this captivating series."--Socrates Book Review Praise for Death at First Sight "As breezy and salty as a gust of wind off the chilly bay waters."--Juliet Blackwell, New York Times bestselling author of the Witchcraft Mysteries "An intriguing opening to a fun new series."--E. J. Copperman, national bestselling author of the Haunted Guesthouse Mysteries "The future shows much success for this series! Fun, vibrant characters (as well as a sexy smolder or two for good measure) give the novel just the right tone."-- RT Book Reviews

Promotional "Headline"

A haunting vision reveals a ghostly grave in the latest Bay Island Psychic Mystery from the author of Occult and Battery .

Excerpt from Book

1 Cass propped her elbow on the driftwood countertop and rested her cheek on her hand. Only for a minute. She couldn''t afford to take a break in the middle of the day, even if the shop was empty. And she definitely couldn''t bear the thought of another nightmare. She jerked upright. She had to stay awake. She leaned a hip against the counter, staring out the big picture window at the front of Mystical Musings, the shop she loved so much, had invested so much in. Daffodils had just begun to bloom in the beds surrounding the small gravel parking lot in front of the shop. She shoved the worries aside. Spring was here, and business had already begun to pick up with the start of the tourist season. There would be plenty of time to worry about her nightmares. Later. She didn''t need any more stress than she was already under. She sighed. Beast, the giant Leonberger she''d inherited from Marge Hawkins and then again from her daughter, Ellie, barked once in agreement-or more likely because a squirrel had scampered across the railing along the front walkway. "Come on, boy." She weaved her fingers through the thick fur on his neck, inhaled deeply, and tried to gather the energy to get ready for her next reading. It wasn''t going to work. Exhaustion, borne from too little sleep over the past week, battered her. She should never have agreed to keep the shop open late for a new reading, especially at the last minute. But when the man had called earlier, he''d sounded so desperate, and she''d been busy with customers and hadn''t wanted to lose the business, so she''d relented. "If I don''t make coffee, I''m going to sleep through this guy''s reading." That would probably not make the best impression on a new customer. "Come on, Beast." She shoved away from the counter and headed straight for the coffeepot on the counter that ran along the sidewall with Beast trotting beside her. Cass had never been prone to nightmares, yet the past week they''d plagued her every time she had started to doze off. She readied the coffeepot, turned it on, and pulled out the big, velvet-covered chair from the round table in the corner of the shop. The customer-whose name she couldn''t recall-shouldn''t be there for another fifteen minutes or so. She''d just sit for a minute or two until the coffee was ready. She folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them. Beast settled beside her, the rhythmic sound of his chewing on a bone bringing an odd sort of comfort. He''d become her best friend over the past months. It was hard to believe there''d ever been a time when she''d thought of not keeping him. But he was a big dog, and his training had been largely ignored. She''d have to give Herb Cox a call now that the weather was warmer. Because Herb ran his training classes outside, he didn''t offer any during the winter, and it was well past time for some kind of obedience training. Beast was friendly enough, and had definitely been well socialized since he was at the shop with her every day, but he didn''t listen. At all. Her eyes drifted closed, Beast''s gnawing keeping her grounded. If the sound stopped, she''d have to get up and make sure he hadn''t gotten into anything. Just this week, she''d lost another chair, a basket, and half a blanket to his chewing. The TV remote had also gone missing, and though she couldn''t prove anything, she had her suspicions about where it had disappeared to. Slitting one eye open, she shot the big dog a wary glance. He stopped chewing long enough to tilt his head at her, tongue lolling innocently out the side of his mouth. Yeah, right. He returned to his bone, and her eye dropped closed again. It was too heavy to keep open. She''d just rest a moment until the coffeepot stopped. The aroma of coffee brewing filled the shop, soothing her raw nerves. She''d worked hard to make Mystical Musings cozy and comfortable, to create an atmosphere that would put her clients at ease. She kept the shop meticulously clean-knickknacks free of dust, crystals displayed neatly in baskets and cases, bath salts and lotions arranged perfectly according to scent and purpose. Even the various lighthouse souvenirs stood perfectly aligned on glass shelves along one wall-her driving need for organization a leftover effect from a time when her life had spiraled out of control, a year when she''d lost both of her parents, one of her patients, and had caught her ex fooling around with her best friend. A year when too many things had been beyond her control. Well, no longer. She''d regained control of her life, even if it did bring somewhat of an obsession with order, and she had no intention of giving that up. A small smile tugged at her. Warmth at the life she''d made for herself spread through her, easing some of her tension, relaxing the taut muscles bunching her shoulders and straining her back. A wisp of warm air whispered along the back of her neck. "Help me." She jerked upright and lurched to her feet, slamming her leg against the table. "Ouch." Beast jumped up beside her and looked around, as if sensing her discomfort. Or had he heard the soft plea as well? She massaged her leg and glanced around the empty shop. Had she fallen asleep? She didn''t think so, but she must have, or the voice from her nightmares couldn''t have reached her. Right? The tinkle of the chimes over the front door announced the arrival of her new client. Great. He was five minutes early. She hadn''t had her coffee, she was totally freaked out, she hadn''t yet put on her robe, and her long blond hair still hung loosely around her shoulders, instead of tied back beneath the sash she usually wore for a reading. Oh well. No sense bothering now. At this point, she''d be lucky to pull herself together enough to do the reading at all. Beast stood at her side, a low growl emanating from his throat. Weird. Beast usually loved everyone; he rarely growled at anything. "Sit." He ignored her and crouched to spring. She grabbed his collar before he could launch himself at her customer. "Beast." Her voice held a note of warning the big dog wasn''t used to. He paused and tilted his head to the side, staring at her, his big brown eyes wide. She tried to infuse some authority into her command. "Sit." He plopped back down with a pout. Hmmm . . . maybe there was something to this training stuff after all. Satisfied Beast might not knock the man over, she turned her attention to her new client. Hopefully, this would be a nice, light read. One look at the frown marring the man''s face and the lines of strain bracketing his mouth assured her it wouldn''t be. She sighed. "Hello, Mr. . . . uh . . ." Ah jeez, she''d forgotten to look up his name. "Becker." He met her halfway across the store and extended an extremely large hand. "Artie Becker. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," he said, his voice the deep, harsh rasp of a longtime, two-pack-a-day smoker. "No problem." She gripped his proffered hand. A vision slammed through her. A young woman in jeans and a dark sweater, her features obscured by her long brown hair whipping across her face. Cass''s stomach heaved, and she ripped her hand away with a gasp. Artie''s frown deepened. "Is everything all right?" Battling the nausea, she summoned a smile. "Yeah . . . I . . . uh . . ." No way was she going to tell him she was losing her mind. She massaged her temples. "Sorry, bit of a headache. Would you like some coffee?" She silently prayed he''d accept, desperately needing a moment to herself. His stare lingered a moment longer, but then he shrugged. "Sure." He swiped a hand over his mouth, smoothing his full salt-and-pepper beard. "Thanks." "Have a seat." She gestured toward the large, round, cloth-covered table in the far corner of the room. Artie eyed Beast suspiciously as he crossed the shop and pulled out a chair. Beast popped his head up and shot Cass a hopeful look. Her glare stopped him in his tracks, and he moaned, rested his chin on his paws, and returned to sulking. Fairly confident Beast would behave, at least as long as it suited him, she turned to pouring the coffee. Her hands shook as she set out two foam cups, then lifted the pot from the burner. Cass didn''t consider herself psychic in any traditional sense, but her strong intuition combined with her psychiatric training and years of experience reading patients afforded her the skills necessary to "read" people with a fair amount of accuracy. Billing herself as a medium allowed her to bring an extra measure of comfort to her clients. Recent events had her questioning that assessment. It seemed since she came back to Bay Island she was a little more intuitive than she''d originally thought. A shiver ran up her spine. She shook off thoughts better left unexamined. She''d get through the reading then go home and take a warm bath, maybe make a small pot of herbal tea and relax. The image of the woman from her nightmares returned unbidden. On the other hand, maybe she''d see if Bee and Stephanie wanted to go to the diner and grab a late dinner . . . and coffee . . . maybe dessert. She added milk to her cup and placed it on a tray with Artie''s coffee, a small creamer, a sugar bowl, and a few stirrers, then set the tray on the table beside Artie. Pulling herself together, she lifted her cup and took a seat across the table from him. "So, how can I help you?" It felt weird to start a reading wearing yoga pants and a long sweater. Leaving h

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