The Black Horizon: The January Morrison Files, Psychic Series 3

By Eden Laroux

From the Publisher that brought you popular short story series Call of Magick, Hostile Hearts, Earthbound Angels, The January Morrison Files Psychic Series, Ralph's Gift, Children of Time, Chains of Darkness, Tropical Storms and Friend Zone...

When duty calls from beyond reality, there's no saying no
ONE CASE THREATENS THEIR ALL

The dead never rest... even when the living are exhausted.

After the harrowing ordeal of the Matchmaker case, January would love nothing more than to forget about crime-solving and death, and concentrate on helping Ash recover from his physical and mental wounds.

But danger invades their peaceful sanctuary again when January receives a strange visit from a dead man with a terrible secret, and his living son – an innocent child in the wrong place at the wrong time. As the case unfolds, January stumbles on a vast corporate conspiracy that holds the little boy in its crosshairs.

January can’t refuse the family’s plea for help, even though Ash senses the case might be more dangerous than she understands. Soon the stakes are skyrocketing as the boy’s relationship with his father forces Ash to confront demons out of his own past. As their investigation continues, the case threatens to destroy everything January and Ash have worked so hard to protect – their relationship, their peace of mind...

...even their very lives.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra Ross
• Release date: Jul 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301412105

Eden Laroux

Eden Laroux was born on November 27, 1978, in New Orleans, Louisiana, to a father who was a butcher and a mother who was a florist.Her mother, originally from Saint-Emilion in France, migrated to the US to become a textile worker.Eden Laroux was born as Emilia Domini. She had an elder brother, Calvin, and has a sister named Philomena.Her father, a second-generation Italian immigrant, left Emilia’s mother for a laundrywoman, who was also of Italian descent. He was a gambler and an alcoholic. It was learned later that he not only stole money from his employer, but also left the family with gambling debts to settle.Eden was 14 at the time, and the experience of being abandoned and deceived seared into her memory – a theme which showed up in most of her early literary works – sad poems and essays--and in her college years, short stories for various creative writing classes.Eden's brother Calvin chose to leave his own studies and worked odd jobs to supplement their mother’s income, which was obscenely meager, after their father left.Despite financial difficulties, Calvin pushed Eden to work for a degree, and through his and other people’s help, she was able to get a scholarship to attend college and study English Literature.Three weeks after Eden's graduation, Calvin - a closeted homosexual - was killed in a freak accident at work (stabbed by his partner in the middle of a long drive for an out-of-town furniture delivery). He had “come out” only to Eden. He and Eden had been very close, owing to their father’s leaving and their mother becoming undone and distraught.Philomena, Eden's younger sister, is the family’s joy and the family’s artist. While her formal training is in business (she is currently studying for a degree in finance and strategic management), she nevertheless finds time to also dabble in the visual arts – as a potter, painter, and, of late, as a furniture designer.Emilia chose to write under her mother’s name, Eden, as a tribute both to her mother's unconditional love and for her strength to overcome an enormous challenge of raising a family – all on her own.

Book preview

The Black Horizon

By Eden Laroux

Published by Publications Circulations LLC.

SmashWords Edition

All contents copyright (C) 2013 by Publications Circulations LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this document or the related files may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, companies and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

The following story is for entertainment purposes only. This book contains sexually graphic scenes depicting consenting adults above the age of 18 engaging in passionate sexual acts. This story is intended only for persons over the legal adult age. By downloading and opening this document, you are stating that you are of legal age to access and view this work of fiction. Mature readers only. Reader discretion is advised.

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The publisher has used its best efforts in preparing this book, and the information provided herein is provided as is. Publications Circulations LLC makes no representation or warranties with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this book and specifically disclaims any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for any particular purpose and shall in no event be liable for any loss of profit or any other commercial damage, including but not limited to special, incidental, consequential, or other damages.

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Chapter One

AT NINE IN THE morning, the outbound Long Island Rail Road train was nearly empty. There were three other people aside from January -- a man in a suit reading a newspaper, and a mother with a little girl of about eight. The mother and daughter were watching a video on a digital tablet -- something squeaky, with comical music. Every so often they would both collapse into giggles.

January had spent the night in Ash's apartment, alone, huddled in an armchair, staring at a picture of herself that Ash had taken when they first met -- a blurry, sloppy picture that nevertheless shone with joy, like a goading reminder of everything she was about to lose. It made her sick to look at it...but she couldn't look away. She stared at it until she fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, she woke up with aches and pains all over her body. She showered quickly, got dressed and got to the train station. Soon she was walking toward Southside Hospital.

Carrie was already in the waiting room, sitting on the beige flowered couch. For a second, it looked to January like she hadn't left, but then she noticed that Carrie had changed her clothes and combed her hair. Her puffy eyes had a fresh coat of makeup.

Hey, January said, sitting down next to her. Any change from last night?

Carrie shook her head. Nope. He's still stable, but refusing to wake up. Stubborn.

How about you? How are you holding up?

I'm fine, Carrie said. I'll be a lot better once Lianna gets here. She checked her watch. They should be landing at the airport right about now.

They had called Lianna last night, after January's ill-fated attempt to reach out to Ash with her mind. She had almost killed him. That thought kept recurring to her as she huddled in the armchair in Ash's apartment, hovering in the blank space between waking and sleep, when all the day's nightmares visited her again and again. He almost died. Because of me.

She shuddered and pushed the thought away. On the phone, Lianna had been calm and steady. They had barely needed to explain the situation to her -- she snapped up the tail ends of their sentences before they were even able to get them out. Of course she would help, she said. She would do anything to help Agent Sterling. He had helped save her life -- the least she could do was try to return the favor.

January hoped the girl's abilities matched her confidence. She certainly seemed a lot more collected than January had felt at her age, having just discovered she was psychic.

Lianna walked in about an hour later, escorted by another FBI agent. Thanks, Carrie told him, We'll take it from here.

Lianna strode toward January, her hand outstretched. January smiled to herself at the girl's pretense to adulthood. She took Lianna's hand, then hugged her.

How are you, Lianna? she said.

I'm doing well, the girl said. January sized her up. She was such a far cry from the terrified, helpless little thing Ash had pulled out of captivity just a few months before. She was wearing a dark pencil skirt suit with a bright orange blouse underneath, a frill at her collar. Her blonde