The Tucson Prophecy: a prequel novella to the Paranormal Gift series

By C.L. Wells

Jimmy O’Conner, an enforcer for the Chicago mob, is in a race against time. A visit from a supernatural being, a cryptic prophecy, a psychotic killer, and a little girl named Angel have turned Jimmy’s trip to see his dying sister Sarah upside down. Can Jimmy save the little girl from killer’s clutches and possibly help save Sarah’s life? Who is sending him these cryptic messages to enlist his help? Can this mysterious person really help save his dying sister? Jimmy’s not sure exactly what’s going on, but he is certain of one thing; he would do anything to help save his sister’s life – anything.

In the prequel to the Paranormal Gift series by author C.L. Wells, nothing is as it seems when good and evil square off in Tucson, Arizona. Just start reading The Tucson Prophecy – you won’t be able to put it down until the exciting finish!

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.L. Wells
• Release date: Oct 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536550252

C.L. Wells

C.L. Wells is a multi-genre indie author who writes YA, Paranormal, Murder-Mystery, Crime, and Thriller novels. He also writes non-fiction books under the name of Christopher Wells and lives with his family in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina. His hobbies include kayaking, paddle-board surfing, and bicycling.

Book preview

The Tucson Prophecy

Prequel to the Paranormal Gift series

By C.L. Wells

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Copyright Christopher L. Wells (2016) - All rights reserved

This book is a work of fiction.

Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Author’s blog: www.fictionwithamission.com

Other works by this author:

The Seer: Book #1 in the Paranormal Gift series

Utopian Day

For a current list of titles by this author, visit http://fictionwithamission.com/books-by-c-l-wells/

Author’s email address: [e-mail]

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

The Seer: Preview Chapter

Thank You

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Chapter One

Monday, September 2, 2002

The old man walked from the front door of his house to the mailbox. Thoughts of the premonition he had recently received were making him stir crazy, and he needed some fresh air. If his message to the Keeper didn’t succeed, the young girl would certainly die.

Pushing the thought from his mind, he walked slowly through the small garden courtyard along the stepping-stone pathway that had been carefully leveled so as not to cause him to stumble. He used his cane to steady himself with each step. It wasn’t an ordinary cane. Anyone who looked at it could tell that. It was a cane unlike any other in the world. If he’d had to guess, he would say that it probably didn’t come from this world.

He stopped at the mailbox and hooked the top end of the cane over one arm, then retrieved the mail and began flipping through it. The usual assortment of junk mail, a coupon advertiser, a flyer from the local grocery store, a cell phone company advertisement, the water bill, and an envelope from an online picture-printing service. This must be the pictures of his daughter and the grandkids that she had mentioned on their last phone call. Facebook was fine for when he was on the computer, but he liked to have framed pictures around the house to look at. His daughter sent him new pictures about four times a year so that he could keep up with the growing grandkids and all of their new activities.

He smiled to himself as he collected the mail in one hand and then took hold of his cane to begin the journey back to the house. It would be the highlight of his day to look through the pictures and decide where to place them. Maybe it would keep his mind off of the vision he had seen.

One of the flower beds caught his eye on the way back to the house, and he frowned. Weeds. He told the yard man to pull those weeds last week. He’d do it himself, but his knee had been acting up again. Laura would never have allowed weeds in her garden when she was alive. He’d have to find a new yard man, pure and simple. He just couldn’t bring himself to call that young man a gardener, even though that was what it said on his business card – that would elevate him to a status unbecoming his horticultural skills – or lack thereof, as the case may be. Yes, yard man would be a better term.

He poked at the weeds with the tip of his cane, as if to send them a message that their days were numbered. The afternoon sun reflected off of the shiny, black surface of the cane, and his mind was brought back to that unique artifact. It had been given to him some years before when he injured his right leg on a mission to save a young priest in South America. The priest would one day help save many lives during a bloody revolution, if only he survived the assassination attempt on his life. He had foreseen the assassination attempt, and been able to help save the young man’s life, but had his right femur broken in three places in the process. Upon waking up in the hospital, he had found the cane in a gift box at the foot of his bed. He could still remember the note that had been with it, verbatim:

I thought you might have use of this, considering your recent injuries. There is no other cane like it in all the world. Should you ever need to contact me for any reason, simply place the cane on the ground in the full light of the new moon, and I will find you.

There had been no signature on the note. There hadn’t needed to be one. He had known exactly who it was that had written it by the unique handwriting. It was a man – if indeed he was a man – that he knew simply as the Keeper. It was the same man who had given him the gift of seeing the past, present, and future – the gift of the Seer. It was the same man who he had attempted to summon just last week, with the very same cane.

Of course, he couldn’t see everything in the past, present, or future – just certain events. There were some things he could do to direct his special gift, but mostly it was through dreams and through physically touching people or things associated with the events he would then see in his mind. Last month he had foreseen the death of a little girl. If that little girl were to die, tens of thousands of others would perish in horrible agony. It was his job, as a Seer, to make sure that didn’t happen.

He had tried to find her himself. He knew she was here in Tucson, near a hospital, but he hadn’t been able to track her down yet, and he was running out of time. He was getting too old for this sort of thing; his body couldn’t take the long hours of surveillance and tailing required for this kind of work anymore. Last week, in desperation, he had summoned the Keeper.

As he shuffled slowly back to