Excerpt: 'Remember Me' by Maggie Mae Gallagher

Maggie Mae Gallagher joins us to share an excerpt from her new release, Remember Me, book one in her Mystic Series.

First, here's the blurb about Remember Me:

The heart never forgets…

When world renowned psychic, Madelyn Rose, accepts a missing children's case on the Navajo Reservation, she believes it is a case she is more than capable of solving. What she never expects is for Detective Bronx Daniels to dredge up images of their shared past life and challenge the foundation of her future. In the wide open spaces of the Arizona desert, Madelyn and Bronx are forced to rely upon each other for survival as they race to save the missing boys from the will of a madman. But with her life on the line, will Madelyn risk it all for a love that crosses time?

Maggie Mae sets the scene for us …

Maggie Mae: Thank you so much for having me back on Happy Ever After, Joyce!

Remember Me has been a true labor of love for me. The subject matter of souls surviving past death and reincarnating to once again find their soul mate is the overarching theme and one I have long been fascinated by. In the small excerpt below, Detective Bronx Daniels, is questioning the psychic, Madelyn Rose, he hired to assist him with the missing children's case.

EXCERPT

"How many missing person cases have you aided police with, Madelyn?" he asked. Her website had proclaimed she was an expert. He wanted the testimonial from her lips. He'd had little time to do more than briefly peruse her website. He and his deputy had been working round the clock since this case began. If it weren't for the lead that had been nothing but a dead end last night, he would have researched her more thoroughly. As it was, the council was bringing her in so he had little choice but to concede to their demands. He had her website earmarked to review more in depth as soon as he had a free moment.

"Not including this one, in the last five years I've assisted with two hundred thirty-one missing persons and murder cases," Madelyn stated matter-of-fact, with no hint of ego or bragging in her voice, only a begrudging weariness in her sultry tone. How many times had she received this line of questioning?

Probably too many times to count.

"And of those, how many cases did you solve?" This was the real question he wanted answered. Miguel needed it to be good.

"Two hundred thirty," Madelyn responded. Nothing more. Just a number. What had happened on the one case she didn't solve? Her success rate was impressive. Most police forces couldn't claim anything near that, his own record included. Except this was the one case Bronx couldn't afford to lose.

"What happened on the case you didn't solve?" he asked as he made the last turn onto Christian's parents' street. Their trailer was located near the end of the lane. The barren poverty of the community always struck him. He never noticed it before he left for the army but now he couldn't help but see as he drove the prima donna. An Impala sat raised up on blocks, a lone boxer chained outside its trailer raised its black and white head as they passed, the oddball refrigerator without its doors resting against the old Miller place with its broken windows, he wanted to shield from her outsider eyes.

"I'd rather not discuss it if it's all the same to you."

Hrmmm. He'd struck a nerve. He'd have his buddy and former FBI partner, Josh, pull the files for him and discover if the Bureau had anything on her. If she had worked that many cases, she should definitely be on their radar. Besides, he wouldn't leave Miguel's life to chance. Bronx understood how a simple misstep could alter things to the point you watched them unravel before your eyes and could do nothing to transform the outcome.

Pulling in front of the trailer, he shut the engine off. "Let's go."

He opened his door, ready to get the psychic show on the road, allowing cool air to infiltrate the interior cabin.

"Um, Detective, my door won't open."

Bronx cursed under his breath.

"Sorry. Been meaning to fix that." When he got around to it.

He leaned across her seat to jimmy the lock. His arm brushed against her and he heard her sharp intake of breath. Shifting his focus to Madelyn, her porcelain face inches from his. Her enchantress eyes were unfocused.

She muttered, "I told you not to touch me." And slumped back against her seat.

Aw, hell.

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. Feeling for a pulse at her neck, his fingers grazed petal-soft skin, it was steady but she wasn't awakening from her faint. What the hell was he supposed to do with an unconscious psychic?

Find out more about Maggie Mae and her books at www.maggiemaegallagher.com.