The Phoenix Agency They served their country in every branch of the military – Army Delta Force, SEALs, Air Force, Marines. We are pilots, snipers, medics – whatever the job calls for. And now as private citizens they serve in other capacities, as private contractors training security for defense contractors, as black ops eradicating drug dealers, as trained operatives ferreting out traitors. With the women in their lives who each have a unique psychic ability, they are a force to be reckoned with. Risen from the ashes of war, they continue to fight for those in need. They are Phoenix. To view the original six books in the Phoenix Agency World click here!
Jessica dreams of death-- now death has found her. To stay one step ahead of a killer, she'll have to keep her--EYES WIDE OPEN!
Jessica Barnes, a psychic dreamer, has been on the run for most of her life, escaping a serial killer who invades her dreams making her watch as he slaughters the innocent. Each time he finds her, she escapes. Only this time, he has chosen her as his next victim.
A Security Agent with the Phoenix Agency, Adam LaSalle, is no stranger to death. He saw his share as an MP in the Army but the hardest death of all, was that of his sister--torn from this world too soon. Now her killer is targeting the woman he has sworn to protect. The woman he has grown to love.
To stop this killer Jessica will have to do the unthinkable and let death in, forming a connection with a madman. And to stay alive? She’ll need to keep her Eyes Wide Open.
Excerpt from Eyes Wide Open ~
The damp cobblestones glistened under the street lamps that fell upon Adgers Wharf, a historic city street in Charleston. The heavy knock of the man's boots thumped off the old, worn stones and echoed through the streets as he walked. The woman he followed kept glancing over her shoulder, her movements nervous. Furtive. She quickened her pace. As did he. A lone horn sounded across the water of Charleston's harbor. At this time of night, no one was around to hear her. Or help.
The woman turned another corner onto E. Bay, her shoulders almost sagging with relief when she spotted her destination up the street. One of those overpriced boutique hotels all the tourists loved. She headed toward the wooden gate built into the brick wall that surrounded the gardens of the old home, searching for refuge in the overgrown courtyard. By day the gardens would be stunning, blooming with the cloying fragrance of jasmine from the ivy climbing and pulling at the home's walls. Gardenias and camellias would be shaded by the thick canopy of a live oak, offering a sweet respite from Charleston's oppressive summer heat. But tonight, the garden lay in thick shadows cast by the light from the lone street lamp. A beautiful setting for what he had planned.
The woman stepped through the gate and into the courtyard garden, but before she could close and latch it, he pushed through behind her. Surprised to see him so close, she looked up at him, her doe eyes wide, her dewy lips forming a perfect O.
He smiled to put her at ease. "Sorry to startle you, ma'am."
She took a step back, starting the dance he loved to play. She'd go back; he'd go forward. Warring emotions would cross her face: wariness growing to concern and then moving to disbelief, which would lead to his favorite—abject horror when she realized what was about to happen. Her emotions would flash in a slideshow across her face for his amusement and enjoyment. Deep in the depths of her eyes, playing out on her lips, in the creases of her forehead, all ending with the inevitable conclusion that she was about to die.
That he was going to kill her.
It was always the same. The shock. The valiant struggle when they realize that no one was going to save them. But by then it would be too late. This one was no different. The flailing of the arms, the kicking of the feet, the impotent screams against his hand, all useless. And yet he wouldn't want it any other way. It made the kill that much sweeter. The dance culminating finally with the clawing at the thick leather of his gloves as he squeezed, pressing his fingers harder and harder into the soft white skin, with only the moon and the birds cloaked in the trees to bear witness to the miracle of this woman's passing.
The beautiful send-off from this world to the next.
As she collapsed in his arms, he held her tight and whispered, "There, there, my sweet. I did it all for you." In a quick movement, the sharp blade of his favorite knife sliced through her creamy skin, and sent her effortlessly on her way from this world to the next. He yanked a chain from her neck, a small memento to go with the others, then he kissed her forehead and laid her gently on the ground amidst the flowers and monkey grass. He crossed her hands over her chest, picked a dainty rose off a nearby bush, and slipped it between her fingers. "Another angel returned to heaven."
He quickly pulled out a pen out of his pocket and drew something on her forehead, but Jessica couldn't see what. The man stood, turned, then walked out of the garden, shutting the gate behind him.
"You're next, Angel Face. It's time for our dance," he said into the night air as he continued down the street, his boots clicking across the cobblestones, the eerie sound of his whistling hanging on a gentle breeze.