Seer's Choice (Book 3 of The Seer Trilogy) - Excerpt Only

Seer's Choice - Excerpt (Chapter Two)

SEER'S CHOICE (BOOK THREE OF THE SEER TRILOGY)

By Maree Anderson

CHAPTER TWO

Laptop whined and huffed a trio of soft barks to inform her mistress it was time to wake up and get going. Rowan groaned, threw off the bedclothes and rolled out of bed to lurch toward the bathroom. She turned the shower to a smidgeon below unbearably hot and stepped beneath the water. The heat sliced through her skin and seeped into her bones. She gave her body a vigorous scrub with a loofah... and wished it could help scour away her guilt as efficiently as it scoured her skin. She should have been able to prevent Harrison's suicide. She should have been able to convince him even a life shadowed by a terminal disease was a life worth fighting for. But she'd failed. And since discovering his body something inside her had fundamentally altered.

It was her punishment for failing Harrison—this bizarre emotional link she formed with the dying. She shared their thoughts, their fears, regrets—everything until the final moment of their death when her link to them was abruptly severed. Experiencing people dying over and over again was no picnic. She'd tried everything—sleeping pills, hypnotherapy, meditation, herbal remedies. Nothing worked. People suffered and died. She suffered with them. And in the back of her mind lingered the crippling fear that one day she might link to someone she knew. She suspected that experience would push her into insanity.

To protect herself she'd drawn back, keeping herself aloof from any form of intimate relationship. She was alone and it was better that way. Life was something to be endured. And sometimes, in the dead of night as she lay sleepless, waiting for the nightmare to take her, she thought that her own death would be a welcome relief.

She toweled herself until her skin tingled, and then rubbed ineffectually at the condensation misting the mirror with a corner of the wet towel. As she scraped her damp hair back from her face with a comb she stared at her foggy reflection. She seemed so... insubstantial now—a shadow of her former self.

The mirror began to clear and her reflection crept into focus. She practiced the "I'm fine, thank you. How are you?" professional smile until it almost fit her face. The effect was spoiled by the gaunt features staring back at her. Her hollow, haunted eyes had witnessed too many deaths, shared too many regrets and fears, and try as she might she couldn't summon up an image of what she used to look like. Before Harrison.

She spun away from the mirror. Next task get dressed and feed her starving dog.

"Hey, beautiful." As she bent to hug the big dog Laptop whined and licked her face. "Eeuuw! I wish you wouldn't do that. Makes me feel like I need another shower." She straightened quickly to avoid another slurp.

When the dog had finished her meal, Rowan opened the back door onto her large yard and leaped out of the way as Laptop lunged past her. The dog pranced around for a while and then flopped her butt down to scratch. The Malamute's furry face scrunched up into that dreamy doggy-look she got when she managed to itch just the right spot. Rowan summoned a brief smile at her pet's antics before retreating into the warmth of the kitchen.

The message indicator on the phone was blinking. She didn't get many calls and hadn't noticed it before. Her pulse quickened and the back of her neck felt clammy. Bad news—she knew it. Snatching a deep breath she thumbed the button on the answer phone.

 Numbly she listened to Marilyn's apologetic voice ramble on. "I don't know how else to say this, Rowan. We had a complaint from that stuck-up old bat. She rang Head Office, threatening to take all her travel business elsewhere, and given you've had so much time off lately— Well, I can't sweep this one under the carpet. I'm so sorry. You're exceptional at your job and the clients love you and it makes me royally sick to have to let you go. Look, I'll courier your severance pay and personal stuff from your desk. And please, ring me for a reference any time. I'm really sorry it has to be this way, Rowan."