Dead Cat, Run By Annabelle Lewis
Buy Link: Amazon
Publication date: February 21, 2021
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Thriller
Summary:
You’re where you’re meant to be. Run, if you can.
High school senior Jenny Gallagher’s psychic abilities have made life in her small New England town rocky. Her premonitions and déjà vu have given her a reputation, one she’s not happy with. Tragedy is about to strike, however, and oddly, this time, she doesn’t see it coming. Is her gift betraying her?
Not far from Jenny, Wellesley Professor Maximus Dyer also has a gift—a painful and useless one. His ability to see the past has brought him insight into history, but otherwise, he’s never known what to make of it. The psychic shocks he receives through his unprotected hands have made any genuine human relationships beyond his grasp. Then someone who doesn’t trigger a vision enters his life—a dog?
Sidrah Keeling runs determinedly optimistic throughout her life, trying hard not to ask the big questions about why. Her foresight, her ability to see glimpses of the future in her dreams, often drives her to follow a path she doesn’t understand. Alert and listening, with the guardrails of security she’s erected in place, she’s forced again to follow her dreams. This time to a man. Who is he?
Lurking deep in his sensory deprivation tank, Turner Black sees it all. Born out of the great chaos of time, he once again feels the forces of good gathering to move against him. Not in this life. This time, his darkness will reign supreme. The hunt for his antithesis will begin again now. He can’t wait to feel his opponent in destiny bleed.
A fast-paced contemporary mystery thriller with a supernatural hierarchy, Dead Cat, Run will keep you up all night, glued to your seat.
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EXCERPT:
Max humped his way through the Wellesley College campus center, yanking his backpack onto his shoulder when it began to slide. Hungry—no, scratch that, ravenous—he snarled in frustration that he couldn’t jump in line at the pizza stand and grab a slice. He’d need to wait until he got home. He frowned, remembering he had no ready food there either. As he rounded past the heavenly smells from the greasy Chinese buffet, someone called his name, and he slowed.
“Professor Dyer,” a girl said.
Inwardly, he rolled his eyes but stopped, forcing a look of tolerance onto his face. He didn’t recognize the student, but then, he usually didn’t. It was better to avoid eye contact with the nubile freshmen. Many young girls throughout his career had presumed there was something other than scholarly interest lurking there. He tried everything he could to discourage them.