The Prayer Wheel: Mystery romance

By Stacy Collins

A mysterious murder. A psychic discovery. A passionate alliance.

Working for years at a quaint shop called The Gifts of Avalon, Astrid often gives readings to those who ask. Not completely believing in the practice of physic readings, everything changes when a Professor Brandenburg brings in one Tibetan Prayer Wheel, apparently a replica. Using it as a prop for her readings one day, it completely turns everything she knows upside down.

Meet Cole Bishop: a rather handsome but washed-up private detective almost completely out of work. When he hears about the death of a well respected professor at Harvard, he knows that he needs to be involved. When Cole and Astrid come together to find the link between the murder and the Prayer Wheel, little can be done to stop the chaos, suspense and attaraction that will ensue.

In a marvelously mysterious adventure, The Prayer Wheel brings everything a reader wants all together in one place. Riveting, creative, and spell-binding; Stacy Collins brings us a page turning suspense romance book that you won't want to put down. If you like psychic romance books you will love this one. Unlock this mystery adventure today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stacy Collins
• Release date: Nov 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519973382

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Stacy Collins

Copyright 2015 by Stacy Collins - All rights reserved.

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Chapter One

The First Day

The Gifts of Avalon had a way of sneaking up on you. You’d be walking along the wide brick sidewalks where Brattle runs indelicately into Eliot Street, eventually turning down Mt. Auburn and past Winthrop Park and The Garage. Finally, you’d turn right onto the grey brick road that runs past Grendel’s Den and there you’d find it; huddled into the wall a few steps down from street level, pretending it’s not there.

That was one of Astrid’s favorite things about heading to work in the morning. As she waited among irate passengers on the subway, she took private joy in the fact that she was headed someplace secret and special. She knew that when she arrived, she’d find it lit by the lamps and paper lanterns that Mae loved so much. If she was early enough, she might help Mae turn them all on. All the while, Mae would grumble about how little light they saw in this cave of a store. Astrid knew better, however. She knew that Mae cherished the hearth-like glow and would have it no other way.

On this particular morning, Astrid was helping Mae shelve a new shipment of books that had been waiting in the back room. It was not a large shipment, but Mae could not bend down with the best of them anymore. Her brittle anatomy had long ago succumbed to various forms of arthritis. Astrid didn’t mind. She enjoyed the methodic nature of alphabetizing; it was much simpler than what she actually did here. More honest too.

Anything good in this one? Mae called from behind the front counter. She was restocking a display of crystals.

Hmm, Astrid riffled contemplatively through the stack. "We’ve got ‘How Chakras Can Be Good for Business’ and ‘The Reflection in the Water: Reconnecting with Past Lives.’ More chakras, more past lives, and one about jnana yoga..."

Oh, put that one in the window. I’m trying to put together a yoga window display to attract all those people that go to the studio across the street. Mae was now aiming a floor lamp in a vain attempt to get the crystals to refract light across the wooden counter. To hell with the lighting in here.

Astrid went over to one of our two bay windows. They had a lovely view of the cement wall and our ugly littered staircase. Like they will see our windows anyway. We might as well be in a cave. She inserted the book in front of a stand of meditation CDs and returned to her shelving.

Which reminds me, Mae added as she filled the register with cash. Sky is coming in late, so I’ll need you to get the sign out as well. She indicated a derelict old sandwich board that was resting against some shelves near the door. The Gifts of Avalon was written on it in Calligraphic script with bold swirls of yellow, orange, and blue adorning the edges. Astrid hated the sign. Even in the 70s, when it was clearly made, it would have been ugly.

No sweat, she sighed as she deposited the last of the books on a gift table. I don’t have my first appointment for a couple of hours anyway.

Oh? Is it Mrs. Wilkinson again? She was so grateful when you helped her find her dog.

Nope. Not until she loses another animal I imagine.

It really was so nice when that happened. She told all of her friends. It’s going to turn into some good business. Mae’s face turned abruptly red, as she instantly tried to busy herself with some postcards that offered new age platitudes.

You don’t have to be so embarrassed about wanting good business, Astrid offered as she moved to pick up the sandwich board and bring it outside.

I shouldn’t make light of such profound gifts.

Astrid caught Mae’s sober expression, as she backed out of the shop. It made her want to laugh all the way up the stairs. Mae was a good woman, but she had to be more gullible than half of their patrons. If Astrid had helped Mrs. Wilkinson find her dog, it was only thanks to a blend of common sense and blind luck. Astrid fiddled with the sign, adjusting it outward, knowing full well that she wasn’t any more psychic than those crystals could cure cancer or any of their essential oils could do whatever it was essential that oils were meant to do. She could live with it though. When you have to pay the bills and you’re only marketable skill is being something you’re not, justification comes naturally. One day, Mae would learn the truth. When she did, she’d be heartbroken.

As she made