Sidelined Afterlife

By Joya Fields

Psychic and medium Veronica Matthews hates being able to communicate with the dead and the nearly departed. What good is it if she can’t lead the police to the victims of violent crimes before they die? But when her neighbor comes to her for help, she’s torn—until she understands that the ghost haunting him is more dangerous than any she’s encountered....

After losing his wife in a tragic accident, ER doctor Hunter Anderson’s only solace is his work and a ghost is jeopardizing that. Turning to his neighbor seems like his only choice, but spending time with the passionate woman, and her sassy attitude, might do more than save his life...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Decadent Publishing
• Release date: Dec 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781613336342

Book preview

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement (including infringement without monetary gain) is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Sidelined Afterlife

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 by Joya Fields

ISBN: 978-1-61333-634-2

Cover art by The Killion Group Inc.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

Look for us online at:

www.decadentpublishing.com

Decadent Publishing Recent Releases

The Blog Affair by Alissa Baxter

Seal the Deal by JoAnne Kenrick

Her Sister’s Wedding by Jane Ainslie

Hanging by a Moment by Bella Juarez

Chelsea’s Somebody by Yvette Hines

Love Unlocked by Libby Waterford

Her Wish Before Christmas by Kimberly Quinton

Marine Under the Mistletoe by Heather Long

Unsportsmanlike Conduct by Angela S. Stone

Mixing Mike by Megan Slayer

Justice by Rebecca Royce

One Night with the Bridesmaid by Sara Daniel

Being Prince Charming by D.L. Jackson

Lest Old Marines be Forgot by Heather Long

Also by Joya Fields

Hereafter

Altered Frequency

Sidelined Afterlife

Hauntings at Inner Harbor, Book 3

By

Joya Fields

~DEDICATION~

Dedicated to my awesome and sexy husband, Joe, who keeps humor and romance in my life. With love and hugs to J.T. and Erica. You are two of the smartest and most loving people I know and I’m so proud of you.

Acknowledgements:

As always, thanks for my wonderful critique partners. Thanks Marcy Waldenville, who helped me get my psychic facts correct, to Dana Kollman, who is an expert about everything dead, and to Kathy, who gave me great insight into the workings of a hospital Emergency Department.

Chapter One

Helping a ghost cross over to the other side always upset Veronica Matthews. She needed to walk. Or have a good cry. Needed to get the hell outside and take some deep breaths of fresh air. She stepped off the elevator and into the marble-floored lobby of her apartment building.

Hi. A handsome, dark-haired man with searing blue eyes nodded at her as they passed each other.

Hello. She nodded back to him, and at the young black man in a red football uniform next to him. How’s it going?

The man spun and clasped her upper arm. His baby blues were wide and hopeful. Oh my God. You see her, don’t you? The man looked to his right where the young black man had stood earlier, but the kid had moved behind him now.

Does that guy think the ghost with him is a woman?

The kid tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, studying Veronica. He moved his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.

Shit. She could usually tell the difference between the living and dead. She’d trained herself so well. She should have felt the signs. Like skin that looked pearlescent…a light that shined outward from within the body. The cold…the slight glow to the football player’s skin. Not sweat from the humid, rainy day. Other-worldly.

With a pointed glance at the spot on her arm where the man gripped her, she forced herself to stay calm. You can release me now.

He blinked and stared at her, almost mesmerizing her with those eyes, before he glanced at his fingers digging into her arm. Sorry. He snatched his hand away and stared at it as if he hadn’t known what he’d done.

She didn’t need this. Didn’t need people pressuring her about what she saw. Veronica hated her so-called gift of being able to connect with the dying and the dead. Hated it like an enemy. Where had it gotten her in life? Nowhere. Worse than nowhere. It had given her nightmares and headaches. Pain. Made her feel like a freak. Facilitating a ghost’s cross over made her feel slightly helpful, but the other stuff…well, she could do without it.

The man who’d gripped her lowered his brows. His face radiated hurt. You see someone with me, don’t you? Please…. Nobody has ever seen her before. I need to know.

Pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about. Pretend you don’t care. Veronica was a photographer by trade, not a psychic-medium. The gift brought too many complications and this ghost apparently came with a demanding man begging to know more about the entity.

She glanced at the kid, who stared at her with wide eyes. Had nobody addressed him before? How long had he been dead?

I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m late. I have to go. She whirled away from the man and the kid. Exit now! Guilt over the hopeful look in this man’s gorgeous blue eyes threatened to overwhelm her. She shoved it down.

Free of his grip, she ran across the lobby and headed for the glass doors that led to the downtown Baltimore sidewalk. So what if rain gushed from the afternoon sky, interrupted only by a bolt of lightning and the following blast of thunder? At least she’d be free of ghosts.

Outside, she lifted her face, welcoming the pounding water on her skin, letting it wash away everything she felt. After a few blocks of speed walking through the storm, her breaths came easier but her old friends, guilt and remorse, kicked in. She should have helped that man and the young man beside him. They had both looked at her with eyes that pleaded for answers.

But it could lead to disaster.

The mystical powers she’d received after a drowning accident ten years ago weren’t something she could easily handle. Each time, the headaches got worse, and each interaction opened her up to the supernatural world even more. Let the handsome guy figure out who was next to him on his own. She’d rather walk in a storm than deal with more drama from a ghost.

Warm summer rain poured down on her, plastering her thin cotton T-shirt to her skin and making her jeans feel heavy as the water soaked her long hair. Her flip-flop-covered feet splashed in puddles. Instead of making her uncomfortable, she savored the feeling and slowed to stroll down the empty sidewalk.

She’d moved to Baltimore’s Inner Harbor because of a photography magazine’s editor job offer and a free place to live while she worked on her photography book, but she knew Baltimore’s history…knew there were more ghosts here than most places. The rain calmed her as she marched forward. The ghosts weren’t as big a problem. It was the dying beings that haunted her—the psychic side of her psychic-medium powers.

Veronica had led police to dozens of bodies over the past five years, in four different states, including two months ago in Baltimore. She’d been so close to finding that three-week-old baby girl alive…had felt that infant was still breathing. Holding the pacifier in her hand had given her the connection she’d needed. But she lost contact and feared the worst. They’d been too late. Little ashen lips and a tiny body wrapped in a small T-shirt, with a shock of dark hair that contrasted against her pale skin. The bitty thing had looked asleep. She was dead.

Regret and grief choked her throat.

She could never go through that again. But ghosts were already dead…and maybe helping the handsome dark-haired man who was being haunted by a dead football player would be a way to use her gift for a good purpose.

If only each time didn’t exact such a toll.

***

Hunter Anderson hurried across the lobby and opened the heavy glass door to the sound of pouring rain. It fell from the sky so hard that it splashed back up from the sidewalk. He wouldn’t follow the auburn-haired woman with the pierced nose as she raced out into the storm. He was the one who’d chased her out there. He’d even grabbed her in desperation. She’d rather be in the elements than near him. Her long, curly hair straightened in the downpour, and her green shirt—the one that played up her haunting golden eyes—was plastered against her trim shoulders and waist.

Who could blame her for running? He’d come on too strong. In his defense, she’d taken him by surprise. Shock, really. She was the first person who had ever noticed the ghost with him, his constant companion since his wife’s death almost two years ago.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. A twenty-hour shift in the Emergency Department left him irritable and on edge. The woman disappeared around a corner and he shut the door. He didn’t have to follow her. She lived in the building. He might not know her name or which apartment, but he’d seen her lots of times before. Someone with her fiery golden eyes and her head of curly hair could never go unnoticed.

Next time, he’d warm her up first. Introduce himself. Apologize. Yeah, definitely apologize. She could be the key to finally finding answers. He glanced to his left and right. Not that he’d ever caught a vision of the ghost that followed him almost constantly. But he could hope. He shifted to the right again and paused. No cold mass of air that he usually felt when the ghost was near. The hairs on his arms weren’t standing up. Had the ghost followed the gorgeous redhead with the pierced nose? The spirit didn’t leave him often, but when it did, he always wondered where it went.

Hunter headed for the elevator, rubbing his tired eyes. He stabbed the button. Good. Some time alone. Maybe he’d even have the luxury of three or four straight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

The doors swished open and he stepped inside. Things were getting worse every day with this spirit. She wouldn’t even let him sleep. Was his wife haunting him—making him pay because he should have been with her that fateful night an eighteen-wheeler had run a red light and killed her on impact? He’d tried to talk to the ghost. Talked to it as if it were his wife. He apologized…begged for forgiveness. But he never got any real clues that it was really her.

The night of her death, he’d stayed at work for one more operation. One more patient. It was always one more patient with him. And he’d lost that patient, too. A high-schooler who never made it to graduation. Two deaths that night. His ghost could be any one of dozens of people he’d fought to save…and lost.

The doors opened to the eighth floor and Hunter stepped out. What had started as small incidents—smacking a few pills from his hand when he’d attempted to dull the pain of losing his wife—had escalated into a feeling of never being alone. Made it tough to sleep. Like someone was always staring at him. And, cold spots. Stuff in his apartment moved to different places. Restless noises in the middle of the night. Someone pacing. Just enough to creep him out and keep him on edge. A feeling that followed him to the hospital, where similarly strange things happened.

He’d turned himself in to his chief. Explained he’d been drinking and taking a few self-prescribed meds. After some therapy, they’d allowed him back. On probation. With weekly drug tests. But he’d never told anyone about his ghost companion. His job was his life now. The only thing that kept him going. But in order to fully concentrate, to give his job one-hundred percent, he needed the otherworldly companion to go.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside. No cold. No feeling of being watched.

Hunter tossed his keys on the mahogany table by the door. They hit a little too hard, and bumped a small vase over the edge of the table, crashing it onto the ceramic floor.

He’d deal with it later. Sleep now. Clean up later.

Might as well take advantage of some ghost-free time…while he had it.

***

Veronica used her hip to open the lobby door, since she carried two brown bags of groceries in her arms. As suddenly as the thunderstorm had approached, it disappeared. Hot afternoon sun beamed in through the windows and warmed the back of her damp shirt.

After a quick glance around the empty expansive entry, she relaxed her shoulders. The dark-haired man was nowhere in sight. Good. That would give her more time to decide if, or how, she might help him.

This level of the building housed the pool, the workout room, and some storage rooms. With her elbow, she jabbed the elevator button. Easier than trekking up a flight of steps. Not that she didn’t need the exercise.

Once in the elevator, she smiled and thought of how she’d spend the afternoon involved in one of her