True Visions

By Ashley Arnholtz

Ella O'Reilly is a psychic and ex-cop whose world is turned up-side-down when a grieving mother seeks her help to find out what happened to her murdered daughter. For the first time in years Ella is working with the police on a case involving a string of murdered girls, all of whom were found with bite marks and drained of all blood. Are Vampires real? Ella doesn't think so but has no other explanation. She must dig into the world of myth and lore to figure out what is real before another dead woman is found. With the help of police and William, a mysterious stranger, Ella races against the clock to bring them down before they kill again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashley Arnholtz
• Release date: Mar 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310341823

Ashley Arnholtz

My name is Ashley Arnholtz, I'm married and have three children between my husband and me. I have congestive heart failure, along with other heart problems, and started writing when my cardiologist had me drop out of college and told me I couldn't work. I hope to give others the enjoyment of being lost in a good story that so many authors have given me. I decided to be an independent writer for many reasons but the main is so I can work, and produce, on my own time while juggling my kids, husband and health problems.

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True Visions

By Ashley Armholtz

Published By Ashley Arnholtz at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Ashley Arnholtz

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is dedicated to my husband, Tommy, who encouraged me to finish it when I felt like giving up. I love you; forever and always.

Acknowledgments:

I want to give a huge thanks to my friends, Toni Gallegos and Dena Guralnick, for helping me proofread this book and offering suggestions. Thank you to Heidi Shamberger for my cover design since when it comes to things like that I’m totally confused and frustrated. Thank you to all my friends and family who kept encouraging me to just give it a shot and publish my work. And finally, thank you to all those who read this book. I hope you enjoy it!

All the mistakes in this book are my own. Although some of the places in this book are real, the characters and events are of my own making.

I was sitting in the sunroom of my Victorian style house waiting for my one, and only, client of the day. This is my favorite room and has been since I was a little girl. The walls are painted a light yellow, and there are two, old wicker couches with overstuffed, dark blue cushions facing each other, with a small glass top table in between. The windows overlook the rose garden, providing a beautiful and rather peaceful view during the summer.

I use this room for client meetings because most find it to be a peaceful place, which is a good thing considering most of the people I see are grieving in some way.

I’m not a counselor, psychologist, or anything like that. What I do isn’t that normal but I do help people find insight, solve some problems, and I try to help provide closure to those who have recently lost a loved one.

I am what most people would call a psychic, although I don’t really like the term. It’s a very broad term that covers many gifts. I can’t see the future, I don’t read tarot cards, and I don’t know the winning lottery numbers. When I touch an item, or a person, I get images; kind of like pictures or scenes from a movie that play in my head. Sometimes I am able to pick up on strong emotions as well.

I used to be a police officer with the Corvallis PD but I didn’t last long. I didn’t make it more than a year. I thought I could help use my gifts to solve cases without really being questioned as to how I knew this or that, but I didn’t realize the toll that many violent visions would have on me.

Within a few months of being on the force I was getting near blinding headaches on a regular basis and I wasn’t sleeping very well. Most cops don’t let the violence get to them but I experienced it on a whole new level.

About the time I was ready to quit my mom got sick. She was diagnosed with terminal cancer and needed someone to help take care of her. It gave me a reason to leave the force without anyone knowing the truth.

When most people find out what I can do, they either think I’m a fraud or crazy. Very few people actually believed in what I can do; my mom Donna, my best friend Mona, and those who seek my help; normally as a last, desperate resort.

After my mom died two years ago, Mona moved into this old house with me. My mom and dad bought it before I was born, but my dad hasn’t been back since he left my mom when I was five. He couldn’t deal with having a daughter who was different. I haven’t seen much of him since he left. All I really know about him is his name is Jim O’Reilly, he works for the Oregon State Police, and I get my black hair and deep blue eyes from him. Part of why I became a cop was to somehow prove that I was good enough to be his daughter. Stupid, I know, but part of me has always thought that if I could prove myself, he would love me.

Shortly after Mona moved in we decide to open up shop out of the house to try and help others. Mona, thank God, handles all the client appointments, the accounting, and even a website that people can use to contact us and read about some of the cases I’ve helped with.

When we first started doing this I thought most of the people who would come to see me would be looking for little things like; This is the shirt my husband wore last night. I think he is cheating on me, I need to know. Or This is my missing dog’s favorite toy. Can you find him? Of course that was rather naïve of me. I should have known that once word got around of what I can do, everyone with an unsolved murder or missing persons case would come knocking at our door. This is one of the reasons why I only see one client a day and why our fee depends on the type of help someone is looking for. The headaches make it hard for me to do this more than once a day and even then, I have to make sure Mona doesn’t book more than a few clients a week.

So far I’ve managed to just give my clients information to help without actually coming to the attention of, or having contact, with any police officials. I like it better that way but Mona seems to be getting more insistent that I work directly with the police with every new client. I love Mona, she’s my best friend, but she can be a real pain sometimes.

I checked my watch and looked outside at the dark rain that had been pelting down most of the day. It was rather depressing out but not surprising. It rains in this part of Oregon most of the fall, winter, and spring with only a few months of dry, warm weather in the summer. At four-twenty-five in the afternoon mid-October, this gloom pretty much expected.

I got up to light the few vanilla scented candles we had in the sunroom when I heard Mona’s voice coming from the front of the house.

My four-thirty appointment was early. Oh, well. Better to get this over with.

I ran my hands through my long black hair, tucking part of it behind my left ear. I also looked down to check that my dark purple blouse was still neatly tucked into my black slacks. I decided I looked decent enough just as Mona was shepherding in my client.

The woman with Mona looked like she was on the other side of forty, but it was a good late forty. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, falling softly around her shoulders; her make-up and expensive blouse and skirt all added to the look of perfection.

Once again, I was glad Mona insisted we dress professional when meeting clients. Left to my own devices I would wear jeans and whatever top I grabbed from the closet. I normally dressed for the weather and for comfort, not to impress.

Mona’s red curls bounced as she walked into the room. Ella, this is Mrs. Garret,- Mona said motioning to the blond woman next to her- Mrs. Garret, this is Ella O’Reilly.

It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Garret. I said, reaching out to shake her hand. She took my hand in hers softly, looking me in the eyes. It was then that I noticed the sadness in her light blue eyes.

"Please, call me Samantha. I’ve heard a lot