First Visions

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Authors: Heather Topham Wood

Tags: #young adult, #paranormal romance, #abduction, #new adult, #psychics, #upper ya

BOOK: First Visions
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First Visions: Second Sight Book One

 

A Novel by Heather Topham Wood

 

Smashwords Edition

 

FIRST VISIONS: SECOND SIGHT BOOK ONE
Copyright: Heather Topham Wood
Published: May 1, 2012
Smashwords Edition

The right of Heather Topham Wood to be
identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in
accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied
in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from
the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

 

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of this author.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents either are products of the
author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

 

 

Dedication

 

To my wonderful husband who has always been
my biggest supporter. To my children who I love more than life
itself. To all my amazing friends and family, I would have never
been able to finish this book without your love and support. To my
fabulous editor Trisha, you rock!

Prologue

 

Kate Edwards Journal

May 8

 

I always prided myself growing up as being
one of a kind. Being fearless and never giving a damn what anyone
had to say about it. In high school, I was one of those girls who
refused to fit into a mold. I wasn’t with the glue sniffers out
back under the bleachers, but I wasn’t sitting with the head
cheerleaders either. I felt in charge of my destiny and I was going
to pursue my dream of being an artist despite the odds stacked
against me. If anyone had told me otherwise, I had no problem
telling that person where to shove it.

Little did I know, it sometimes really blows
being one of a kind. For starters, I contracted bacterial
meningitis in college. What are the chances? Only about 1,500
people in the entire country get it each year. I think there were
more kids than that in my graduating class of high school. Once a
person has meningitis, she has an eleven percent chance of dying
and a twenty percent chance of losing a limb or suffering from
brain damage. Nineteen years old and there was a good chance I was
either going to be dead or armless.

Lucky for me, I woke up from the coma I fell
into. No brain damage, both arms in tact and alive and kicking.
Kate was back in business and ready to kick ass and take names.
However, fate decided to kick my ass instead. I came back from the
dead not the same old Kate. No, I was now Kate with a second
sight.

Some people may not understand why I don’t
simply bask in the glory of having psychic abilities. Set up a
psychic hotline, write a book or maybe open a palm reading shop. My
mother and I could move to a mansion and I could rename myself some
cool mystical name like Clairvoyant Caterina.

Well, the first reason is—that idea isn’t
possible. I have no control over what I see. I’ll go to sleep at
night and dream myself unwilling into someone else’s head. It’s
unimaginable how truly awful that could be. Do I really care about
that special day my mailman spent with his first dog Skippy at the
park during the summer he turned eleven? Or do I need to know about
the yearlong affair my dentist has been having with his secretary?
Worse yet, I haven’t been able to predict anything. I may be able
to tell someone what he ate for dinner on a first date ten years
ago, but not if he is going to die choking the next night.

Sometimes I think maybe there is some way to
control what I see. Or maybe I should be doing something worthwhile
instead of destining myself to a life as a shut-in. I just can’t
understand why this happened to me. Whose brilliant idea was it to
nominate Kate to see inside other people’s heads? And now that I’ve
been given this gift, what the hell am I supposed to do with
it?

 

 

Chapter One

 

Kate Edwards stared listlessly out of her
living room window on a rainy August afternoon. Her best friend,
Julie Mitchell, was yammering into her ear about a random party she
had attended the night before. Any minute her disinterest would
likely be discovered and Julie would sound off a round of
expletives in her ear.

Julie had asked her to go, but Kate rarely
attended parties. Her anti-social streak began years ago and she
seldom ventured out of her front door. While she had turned
twenty-one this past autumn, she had only gone to a bar once and
never to a club. Julie was pretty much the only good friend she
talked to on a regular basis.

While Julie resided in her own apartment in
their town of Franklin, Kate lived at home with her mother.
Franklin is a small town in New Jersey, located about an hour from
New York City. Although the majority of people from Franklin are
members of the working middle-class—a smattering of the residents
are definitely part of the upper-crust. Julie’s own father became a
wildly successful New York attorney who now pays the rent on his
daughter’s recently acquired apartment.

Franklin is the type of town that seemed to
live inside its own little bubble. Although a few high crime areas
bordered the city limits, Franklin locals pretended everything was
sunshine and roses. While murders and rapes were taking place
outside of the town, neighbors acted like a family not mowing their
lawn for two weeks was cause for alarm.

Julie and Kate had become fast friends when
they were assigned to be roommates at nearby Thompson College.
After a brief freshman year, Kate dropped out the following spring.
However, this summer, she had begun taking classes online to earn a
bachelor’s degree in English. Her father, Robert, had not been
subtle in pointing out how completely useless he thought obtaining
an English degree was. Her response explaining how she wasn’t sure
what she wanted to do with her life yet, hadn’t seemed to earn her
any brownie points either.

“Earth to freakin’ Kate, come in Kate,” Julie
was saying into her cell phone. Kate’s lack of social skills
surprisingly had yet to frighten her away.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly. “What
were you saying?”

“I said, don’t you think I was right to be
furious with Gage for getting completely plastered and unable to
drive us home?” Julie repeated with a definite edge to her voice.
Julie was a gorgeous brunette who had a large social circle. Why
she even bothered with Kate was a mystery. A social butterfly with
a ton of zingers in her back pocket was a more appropriate side
kick for Julie—not a social pariah whose idea of fun was to watch
old movies in her pajamas with her mother.

Her sheltered life had nothing to do with her
appearance. She would categorize herself as pretty in almost a
non-descript way. Average height, average weight and with the help
of some well-placed padding, average breasts. Her light brown hair
hung past her shoulders when it wasn’t styled in the ponytail which
she usually wore when lounging around her house. It was naturally
wavy and she only broke out the straightening iron for special
occasions. Kate had inherited her hazel eyes from her mother who
loved to use Kate as her test dummy and highlight them with the
help of the mail order make-up products she sold.

“Definitely,” she agreed trying to muster up
some enthusiasm for the conversation with Julie. Kate jumped at the
sound of the doorbell. “Hold on a sec, Julie. Somebody’s here.”

Gazing through the peephole, she spotted a
man who looked to be in his mid-twenties getting drenched on her
doorstep. His dark hair was plastered against his forehead and the
rain pelted against him at a continuous pace, but Kate still was
able to do a quick once over. He was fair and the dark hair gave
him a striking appearance. She was startled at how attractive he
appeared even through the distortion of the peephole glass. He wore
a dark blue button down with a gray tie and she wondered if he was
a door to door salesman. Well, whatever he was selling, Kate
thought, she was buying.

Kate whispered into the cell phone, “This
unbelievably gorgeous guy is standing on my doorstep.”

“What are you waiting for? Serial killers are
rarely hot, so I’m sure he’s safe,” Julie assured.

Kate rolled her eyes—she hoped if this guy
ended up dismembering her, Julie would blame herself for that awful
advice. Looking down at her ratty appearance, Kate wished she had
the time to change her clothing. For her rainy day loungewear,
she’d chosen to pair an oversized college t-shirt with a pair of
Capri sweats. The sweats had gone through the wash too many times
and had begun to fray at the edges. Her feet were bare and the pink
polish from her pedicure weeks ago was beginning to chip.

Kate opened the door with her most charming
smile. The man showed off his perfectly straight and gleaming teeth
with a return smile. She was glad to notice he had at least one
imperfection as her eyes narrowed on a chip on his front tooth.
“Hello, I’m looking for Kate Edwards?”

“I’m the one and only,” she replied while
Julie snickered in her ear.

A look of surprise flickered briefly over the
man’s dark gray eyes. Recovering quickly, he gave her a half-smile.
“Can I speak to you for a few minutes?” he questioned while
fiddling with his tie.

He seemed somewhat nervous, which surprised
Kate. Was he worried she wouldn’t switch cable providers and he’d
lose out on his commission? Maybe he was having second thoughts
about launching a home invasion and strangling her in the hallway?
Almost a foot taller than she was and muscular, Kate knew she
didn’t have a chance at surviving a fight against this handsome
stranger. He exuded masculinity, while she was confident she exuded
only laziness and dysfunction.

“Sure,” she said and spoke to Julie. “Gotta
go, call you in a few.”

“You better,” Julie hissed. “Don’t do
anything I wouldn’t do.”

After quickly disconnecting the call, she
turned back to the man. “How can I help you?”

“Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself first.
While he reached into his pocket, Kate prayed he wasn’t pulling out
a knife. Instead, he presented a badge to her. “I’m Detective
Corbett of the Franklin Police Department. Do you mind if I come
in?”

“Oh my god, of course, so sorry. You’re
absolutely soaked.” She opened the front door and gestured for him
to come inside. “Can I get you something to drink?” Her mother’s
good manners had been stuffed down her throat since before she
could walk. Even if he had turned out to be a killer, she probably
would have been prone to offer libations first.

A small puddle around his black loafers began
to pool in the hallway floor. He gave her an apologetic look.
“Sorry and no thanks on the drink.”

She entered the living room to the right of
the hallway and sank down on the couch cushions. Settling down in
the chocolate colored arm chair next to her, he gave her a brief
smile. It was a little intimidating being alone with an exceedingly
attractive man. The majority of the time, the best-looking guy she
came across was on the occasional weekday when the cute UPS
delivery man came to the house. Working part-time as a receptionist
at a doctor’s office did not exactly expand her dating pool. The
doctors were all over forty and the rest of the receptionists were
married women or divorcees. The guys her age who did come into the
office as patients were typically blowing out snot or trying hard
not to vomit. Not exactly looking to score a date.

After doing a brief ring check on his left
hand, she inquired innocently, “I’m not in trouble, am I?” She
chided herself for suddenly sounding like a flirtatious southern
belle. All she needed was to toss back her brown hair and give him
a wink to further advertise her availability.

“No, of course not. Actually, I’m here about
an article published about you a couple of years ago,” he
explained.

Kate’s previously friendly expression turned
sour. She rose to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. “I
have no idea what article you’re referring to and if you’ll excuse
me I have some cleaning to get to before my mother arrives
home.”

He went into the pockets of his dress pants
and pulled out a small newspaper clipping. “I brought the article
with me if you’d like to look at it.”

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