Undercover DEA agent Alex Brennan doesn’t believe in the paranormal, despite the exhausting nightmares that reveal things he shouldn’t know. When sleep deprivation causes him to make a horrible mistake on the job, he is driven to find answers. Dreams guide him to a lighthouse in Three Churches, Maine, where he finds an inexplicable and comforting familiarity in the arms of the lighthouse’s beautiful keeper, Pru Maddox.
A whisper of memory…
Deadly misfortune has long plagued Pru’s family, the result of a curse “The Green Lady” placed on the lighthouse. Skeptical, Alex searches for less ghostly explanations, though he can’t deny that the town has had more than its fair share of disappearances, suicides, and accidents. As their passion simmers, Alex digs deeper, and his dreams turn violent, frightening, and very real.
A vision of darkness...
To keep Pru safe, Alex must embrace his abilities and unravel the lighthouse’s mystery. Except someone—or something—wants the past to stay buried...and will do anything to keep it that way.
A shadow fell over Alex’s menu and he tensed in an automatic, trained reaction that had him ready to spring off his stool into battle.
He drew a breath, let it out, and forced his muscles to loosen. An effort. In his experience, unexpected shadows were never a good thing.
“Uh, hello? Are you all right?” the voice asked again and a hand waved in front of his face.
“Yeah, I—” He looked up at the dark-haired waitress standing on the other side of the counter, ready to give the first lame excuse that popped to mind—he wasn’t about to say he was probably a traumatized, emotional wreck on the verge of hysteria—but lost his train of thought when she smiled. She was medium height with a pear-shaped body that strained her polo shirt and jeans in all the right places and brought to mind twisted, sex-soaked sheets. She had her hair tucked under a ball cap, but from the wisps falling out around her face, he could tell the color was so dark it verged on black.
Pretty. Even his inner cynic, that snide voice always in the back of his mind making him doubt himself, thought so. He almost smiled, felt it quirking the side of his mouth. So rarely did they agree on anything. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Her bright blue gaze said she doubted that, but her smile never wavered. “You look like you could use some coffee.”
With that voice, like a velvet caress, she was just the right mix of sweet and sultry. Now all she had to do was grab him by the shirt and drag him over the counter for a romp in the kitchen and every fantasy he’d ever had as a teenager would be fulfilled.
“So, what about it?” she said and held up a coffee pot. “You want some?”
The jolt of lust was immediate and mildly embarrassing since it caused his breath to catch.
Coffee, Al. She’s talking about coffee.
Trying for nonchalance, he turned over the mug sitting upside-down on a saucer in front of him. Still, as she poured the coffee, he couldn’t help but let his gaze drop to her chest on the pretense of reading her nametag. Nice.
“Thanks … Pru.” He raised the mug in a salute then took a sip. Hot and strong. As the coffee hit his tongue, he could already feel the caffeine zinging into his bloodstream and sighed. “I do need this.”
“Been on the road a while, huh?”
He thought about it. Ten, twelve hours? Yeah, seemed about right.
“I can always tell the weary travelers from everyone else,” Pru said. “Mostly because I know everyone else.” She set the coffee pot aside and smiled at him again.
Alex felt a stirring in his gut, the warm, heavy sensation of arousal, his libido waking up from the slumber Trisha had put it in. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at his ex-lover and wanted her like he now wanted this waitress he just met. Come to think of it, had he ever? Trisha was just another part of his life undercover, a convenient blonde bimbo to help solidify his identity in the minds of the criminal underworld.
“So where are you headed?” Pru asked.
Hah. Good question. His only goal had been to get out of the city when he packed up a bag and his camp gear yesterday and started driving. He’d originally headed west with the vague notion of driving out to Montana to visit Nick, his best friend, but he’d gotten as far as Albany, New York and had an inexplicable urge to go north. So he’d traveled up through the Adirondacks to Burlington, cut across Vermont into Maine, rambled through Bangor heading toward Bar Harbor, then hooked north again on US-1. Even after driving all over the half acre of hell known as New England, he still had no clue where he was going.
How was it possible to know right where you were on a map, yet still feel lost?
Check out Nicola’s review of Vision of Darkness here
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Tonya Burrows wrote her first romance in 8th grade and hasn't put down her pen since. Originally from a small town in Western New York, she’s currently soaking up the sun as a Florida girl. She suffers from a bad case of wanderlust and usually ends up moving someplace new every few years. Luckily, her two dogs and ginormous cat are excellent travel buddies.
When she's not writing about hunky military heroes, Tonya can be found at a bookstore or the dog park. She also enjoys painting, watching movies, and her daily barre workouts. A geek at heart, she pledges her TV fandom to Supernatural and Dr. Who.
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