I recently found a new paranormal series called the PaST Series. The books are PaST Due and Half PaST. It is a story about Frankie Wright, a psychic that writes in for MI5. She is very aware of the supernatural beings that surround her such as vampires, shifters, witches, and zombies. But, her job is to hide that world from the humans that live without knowing what is truly out there.
She has had the gift to read psychic impressions left from people and of course has been alone in her world. She is an older character of 34 which is fresh and new with all the teens and early twenty characters that appear to be everywhere.
The books take place in Edinburgh and appears to be a story of a strong lead female character. I have just found the website and am putting in an order for the books. If any of you readers have read the books please comment below.
Here is an excerpt of Chapter 1 of PaST Due available on the author’s website:
Francis Wright took one last look over her shoulder to be sure no one was watching, then deftly picked the door lock. Thirty seconds later she closed the door behind her, safe inside the apartment. It wasnât that she was a master lock picker that gave her such speed, merely the right equipment. Should she be caught carrying a locksmiths tools without a locksmiths licence there would be awkward questions, but Frankie was certain sheâd never face any consequences. She felt along the wall until she found the light switch and then headed deeper into the apartment. The fact sheâd had to come at night made stealth both harder in that she needed to use lights at all and easier in that there were fewer people around to see. Sheâd long ago learnt that using a homeâs own lights drew a lot less attention than a flickering torchlight.
The body had been moved but it was easy to see where it had lain, just inside the doorway to the living room. There were no helpful chalk outlines but the large pool of blood suggested that whoever had fallen there had not walked away under their own steam.
She sighed and pushed a gloved hand through her dark hair. âSometimes I hate this job,â she muttered. She knelt down beside the largest blood stain and pulled one of her leather gloves off. She rested her palm gently against the carpet and closed her eyes. Images of the horrific death flashed through her mind and she gritted her teeth. The poor girl had died painfully, but at least it was quick. A small mercy.
She opened her eyes and removed her hand, swallowing down the residual pain and fear
she was left with.
âSometimes I really hate this job.â She stood up, whirling around as someone coughed
Standing in the hallway was a man. Damn, she had hoped to get out unseen.Even if she hadn’t recognized him, his posture and clothes would have given him away as a cop. She wondered briefly when he’d made detective before reminding herself to stay focused. The policeman narrowed his eyes. âWell well, if it isn’t Francis Wright. I didnât expect to see you again.â