Yes, the Majek family is back in my new novel I See You. This spooky page-turner starts simply enough with a Christmas gift, and ends with David, Josh, Eddie, and the rest of the beloved family solving a 50-year old cold case.
Intrigued? I hope so! I’m offering the Kindle edition of the new novel for just .99 cents (free for Kindle Unlimited members) and just $14.99 — almost at cost — for the paperback version.
Below is an excerpt of I See You. Ready to order? Visit Amazon to purchase your copy today!
Chapter 11 excerpt – I See You
Pale lemon dawn gleamed over the slate roof of the Majek’s Tudor as David pulled into the driveway. Frost gleamed on Christmas decorations and snow glittered under the cold light. David switched off the Yukon and turned to Eddie and Josh.
“Stay in the car for a few minutes, please.”
“What are you going to do?” Josh tensed.
“What I should have done a few days ago when you took that fall,” David gritted his teeth.
The boys waited in the car while their father unlocked the back door. His first stop was the basement, where he briefly checked for water, saw none, and checked the fuse box. The lights in the basement worked, but he saw the fuses blown on the second floor of the house; each of the switches had moved to the left. He quickly reset them, then returned to the first floor, closing the basement door behind him.
He strode into the living room. The couch loomed dark and threatening, the temporary work desk hulked in the corner. He was undaunted. He strode to the mantle and reached for the snow globe.
It wasn’t there.
With a shiver, he whirled around. The hairs on the back of his neck stood. The air seemed colder. He thought his breath would ice in the air. He wrapped his arms around his coat and strode to the wall switch, flooding the living room with bright, pure light. The hulking desk and crouched sofa vanished under the wash of light, turning back into plain desk and burgundy sofas he knew well.
The mantle remained empty. The clock was there, and the candlesticks, but not the snow globe.
He had a feeling he knew where it was. Pushing past the air that threatened to engulf and squeeze him, he made his way towards the stairs.
On the third step from the bottom, the snow globe gleamed.
There is no way that could have gotten there, his rational mind whispered. We were all at the hospital. It’s half past six in the morning and Turquoise isn’t here yet. The only other people who have keys to this house are Eva and Alex. Eva is in the hospital with Anna, and Alex is in Massachusetts…. there is no way that thing could have moved.
Except it was moved, and it was there, and he knew he hadn’t moved it nor the first responders who had come to the house the night before. Clearly in the shuffle of police and EMTs, with Josh concerned for his little brother and trying to text his father, no one would have played with a toy like that.
“That’s it,” David said aloud, and the pressure around his head that squeezed with ungodly force, the icy air, all vanished in a puff as if it hadn’t been there. “That’s it. It’s you or me, and you’ve got to go. I don’t care if Turquoise’s feelings are hurt. You. Are. Going.”
He snatched up the snow globe and stomped to the back door. He saw his boys’ white faces pressed against the window glass of the Yukon. With a muttered swear, he pulled open the lid of a trash can next to the garage. It was stuffed with balled wrapping paper and stunk of carp from Christmas dinner.
“Goodbye,” David announced and threw the snow globe in the trash. He slammed the lid onto the can, and for good measure, clicked the plastic lid locks into place that they used to keep the lids on during windy days.