Vickie: Doctor by Day. Ghost Whisperer by Night (Book 3 of the Vickie Adventure Series)

By Eileen Sheehan

With marriage, love, and loss on the forefront, Vickie discovers some unsettling and almost lethal lies and secrets about people who she thought were friends and more while she develops her abilities to communicate with the spirit world.
With the help of her deceased aunt and her witch friend, she sets out to rid her home of the evil entities who settled there. Will she succeed?

The romance, thrills, and chills in VICKIE: Doctor by day. Ghost Whisperer by night continue to entertain you from beginning to end.

What readers are saying...

"...This book starts and doesnt stop until the end! There were so many twists I didn't see coming and some things I was really upset to see happen, but my goodness it was amazing. I cant say much because I don't want to give away what happens, but I can say you have to read this book! The characters all feel like my friends and when I'm done reading each book its so hard to let them go."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Earth Wise Books
• Release date: Mar 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463771617

Eileen Sheehan

Eileen Sheehan is a best selling author who primarily writes hot, steamy romances (mostly New Adult) with a sexy male and strong female. A few are steamier than others (see their description). The majority of her novels are paranormal, but some are just plain novels about people in love (contemporary or historical with the author name of Ailene Frances). ALL of her stories have a bit of naughtiness, some excitement, a few thrills, and maybe a touch of mystery mixed in with sometimes naughty, sometimes sweet lovin'. She strives to write a novel length that will allow the busy woman to be able to sit down in an evening or two and be taken on a romantic journey without having a week go by before she gets to the end of the story.An incurable romantic, she has a love affair with at least one of her characters... one book at a time. She hopes the same thing happens to you.***Eileen Sheehan started out as a freelance writer for periodical magazines and newspapers. From there, she tried her hand at writing screenplays. Her screenplay, "When East Meets West" was a finalist in the 2001 Independent International Film and Video Festival at Madison Square Gardens, NYC. Finally finding her niche, she lets her imagination loose with new adult/paranormal romance/thrillers (some are steamy and some are tame) with the author name of Eileen Sheehan. She creates steamy historical and contemporary romances with the author name of Ailene Frances. Seeing how far out of the box she could stretch, she crafted an alternative romance with the author name of E. F. Sheehan and has a few self-help books under her work name of Lena Sheehan.Her stories can be found in eBook, Paperback, and Audio formats.Some comments from readers about her novels:"I found this very well written the plot and story as well as the flow of events were perfect in this book I liked both main and second characters Casey and Geo I liked the suspense mystery action twist and turns it kept me on my toes and surprised the whole time I liked and enjoyed the end as well awesome work I recommend this to everyone.""I loved this book! The characters are engaging and have depth. This book draws you in and absorbs you in the story...""I thought the book was very well written. Characters are well developed. The story moves at a decent pace very intriguing...""This book was so good! From the first page I was hooked and it only got better. The romance was sweet and a bit forbidden. The story was intense and fast paced and kept my attention the entire time. The characters were very well developed and relatable. I just really enjoyed this story and highly recommend it.""I love PNR and this book has all the right ingredients. Especially the characters... it makes a very fun read. I have a weakness for strong heroine and the author delivered on that. And the fact that it's a contemporary settings is a bonus for me. Also, the suspense added to the mix makes it even more enjoyable! To read!""Being an avid book reader means that I nearly always suss out the plot before it unfolds, I, therefore, was delighted that I didn't see the twist coming. This is a sweet romance vampire/superhuman thriller! That's quite a mix, but it actually works beautifully, Eileen unfolds the story with really good pacing, I often skip pages if I think I know whats coming, but I had to read every word of this gripping tale. I simply loved it.""There was plenty of mystery, action, drama, and lore in this book. ...This is definitely a great paranormal romance!""Well written book, loved the twist the author gave in the story to reveal the bad guy. The romance was good, there was enough action to keep one turning the pages"

Book preview

CONTENTS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

EPILOGUE

SNEAK PEAK OF VICKIE: Doctor by day. Vampire Medic by night.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

OTHER BOOKS BY EILEEN SHEEHAN

One

I leaned my head against the window as I stared out into the darkness. The moisture laden clouds hung low over the mountaintops. The heavy rain that poured down from the dark masses blanketing the sky made the night so black that even our headlights did little to illuminate our way more than a few yards ahead of us.

It was a fitting night that perfectly matched our mood and the occasion. A dry, bright, and starry night would have been insensitive to the emotions that permeated the car’s interior as Max and I made our way home from an eight-week honeymoon that had been reduced to four weeks by the news that his house had mysteriously burned to the ground.

Upon my insistence that we marry right away, Max scrambled to make arrangements for law and order to be carried on by his office with the same attention given to the area when he was around and then booked us two tickets for Las Vegas. Within a week, we were happy newlyweds.

I knew that Megan would be disappointed when she discovered that we’d eloped since she’d suggested that we allow her to perform our wedding ceremony, but I felt that we’d be forced into inviting Evan and Angela to join us. Since I was rushing my marriage to Max in order to put a barrier between me and Evan, I didn’t want the energy that passed between us whenever we were in close proximity of each other looming over my marriage vows to Max. As for Angela… she’d made no bones about how she felt where Max and I were concerned. She reeked of animosity and jealousy. Again, it was something that I didn’t want permeating the environment as we made our vows to each other.

We stayed at the Palazzo and were married at The Little White Chapel. Although

he was alright with eloping, Max insisted that I wear a beautiful wedding gown while he donned a tuxedo. I have to admit that seeing the look on his face when he saw me enter the chapel in my white satin gown sent shivers of delight down my body that definitely added to the experience.

Since I wasn’t one who enjoyed being the center of attention, I was actually relieved that we didn’t have a large audience to deal with and then entertain afterward. We were able to race back to our room where we spent the next two days living on room service while repeatedly consummating our marriage.

Since our reservations for the resort in Fiji were for a good year ahead, we opted to stay in Las Vegas for the better part of a week and enjoy its fine food, good shows, and liveliness. We’d been married for five days when we woke up, looked at each other, and simultaneously said, I’m done with Vegas.

I’d suggested that we return to Wolf Junction and begin to set up house as a couple, but he was determined to have a long, momentous honeymoon.

Since I’d done no travel to speak of when I was growing up and had buried myself into my studies while in med school, we had a lot of choices for places to visit. I left it up to Max. He chose to start with Puerto Rico and then hop over to the Bahamas, with the promise that we’d keep our reservations for Fiji the following year for a second honeymoon.

The first few weeks were relaxing and interesting. We alternated between hanging out on the beach and taking tours of the area in the daytime. We took in a few dinner shows in the evening, but, for the most part, we retired to our rooms after a full day, made love until we could barely function, and then fell into a deep, blissful sleep.

I found that being married released what little inhibitions Max may have had -that I couldn’t even imagine existed until they were gone- where sex was concerned. He became even more lustful and adventurous. Fortunately, the same thing happened to me, so we were well matched. Was it a result of the potion spell that Megan had created to help me come in touch with my feelings?

Due to our drinking wine that was mysteriously tampered with by some unknown wine assailant, Megan had dropped the potion and it was lost to us so that I couldn’t work the spell correctly. She said that there would be repercussions for a spell gone awry. Was Max’s extreme sex drive and super erotic tastes a result of that? Or had he simply stripped off any restraints he may have had while dating me and was just showing me the real him? I didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. I was a greedy lover who reveled in the way that he explored my body and searched for new and different ways to please me in the bedroom and I enjoyed occasionally doing the same for him.

It was our last day in Puerto Rico before heading off to the Bahamas. We’d just returned from an afternoon tour of the rain forest when Max received a call from his deputy, Larry Robbins, on his cell phone. He was laughing and enjoying the stories that the guide was sharing with him about some of the antics he’d endured and witnessed by the tourists he’d guided when he excused himself to step away and take the call. I remember how, when he saw that the call was from his office, he’d jokingly said that someone had better be on death’s door or the town burned down to justify disturbing him on his honeymoon as he strutted off for his private conversation.

Concern crept in while I watched his body language as he turned his back to us and slumped his shoulders in a dejected way. Sadness permeated the atmosphere long before he’d put his cellphone back into his pocket and rejoined us. Even the others on the tour felt his pain long before he’d told me what happened.

We were on the first plane home.

What greeted us was a torrential storm with raindrops thick enough to resemble

shards of glass or slivers of wood. I remember, when I was young and we’d have storms like that. My aunt Lily would say that the angels were crying. I chose to believe that’s what was happening. The angels were feeling Max’s loss and were crying tears of remorse. I know that it was my loss too, but, since I’d never set foot in the house, all I felt was the sorrow of not having an alternate place to move into. Without his house, we’d be forced to reside at mine with Evan and Angela.

Thoughts of suggesting that we open his family estate house and live there taunted me all the way home as I lamented over having to reside under the same roof as Evan, but Max had yet to confide in me that he was super rich and that the place even existed. I was sorry that I’d promised Megan that I’d wait for him to tell me, instead of blurting out that she’d told me about his past.

There was a reason that he didn’t want me to know about the estate that he’d inherited. I assumed it was something that troubled him, since most people would flaunt their inheritance, not hide it. The aftermath of him losing his home wasn’t the right time to pressuring him to talk about it. I’d just have to suck it up and do the best I could to avoid Evan at all costs and deal with Angela as best as I could.

I heaved a sad sigh that I was sure that my husband assumed was over the house. My time away from the drama, paranormal chaos, and temptations that resided in my house had been wonderfully relaxing and pleasurable. I wasn’t ready to walk back into what I’d left. Had we been gone long enough for things to calm down? Could that happen in a few weeks’ time?

We drove right to his house. Upon his request, I stayed in the car while he spent thirty minutes or so staring at the charred remnants of what was once his home. His deputy, Larry, met us there and talked to him as they hunched together under an oversized umbrella. I assumed that they were discussing how the fire started, but I

couldn’t be sure.

When Max returned to the car, he said nothing about his conversation with his deputy and I gave him his privacy. I’d asked him if he was alright. He’d given me a weak smile and said that he was fine before pulling away from the still smoking ruin. I wasn’t the type to prod and pry. When he was ready to talk about it, he would.

Two

Megan was on the front porch when we pulled into the drive. She braved the pelting rain to rush to the car and give us both a heartfelt hug; both as a welcome home and for sympathy over our loss. When she tried to help with our luggage, Max not only refused her help, but he insisted that she and I both go into the house and he’d follow with the luggage. Sensing that he needed some time alone, I didn’t argue.

You should have come through the house to greet us, I said as I pulled on the hem of Megan’s rain-soaked shirt. You should have known Max would pull right into the garage. Now, you’re soaking wet.

She stopped before stepping into the breezeway that connected the garage to the house and rung the hem of her shirt out as best as she could.

I wasn’t thinking, she said with a shrug. To tell you the truth, the rain felt marvelous. I’d go back out if I thought Max would let me.

Max doesn’t own you, I said with a

confused snort.

He can be forceful at times, she said.

I stopped and looked at her with pure curiosity. What happened to Megan while I was gone? Who are you? What did you do with her?

I’m just not up to any confrontations these days, she said with her head hung low.

Oh, for goodness sakes, I said as I grabbed her by the hand and marched back to the car. My tone was firm and left no room for arguments when I addressed Max. Megan and I are going to play in the rain for a bit. We’ll be in shortly.

He gave us an absent-minded look as he pulled the luggage from the trunk. Have fun, kids.

I gave a curt nod and, with a childish smirk, I yanked my friend out into the torrential downpour. I had to pull my shirt up over my mouth and nose more than once to be able to breathe properly as we laughed and twirled while our bodies became practically waterlogged. After the tense confines of the plane and car ride home, our behavior was liberating.

Max was in our room by the time I’d finished frolicking in the rain with my best friend. We’d agreed to take a quick hot shower and meet up in the kitchen for some hot chocolate. Megan had some ideas about what caused the fire that took Max’s house and she was eager to share them with him. To my surprise, Max was already in bed and showed no interest in joining us in the kitchen. He suggested that I go down without him, claiming that he was exhausted from the trip and just wanted to go to sleep. Since a night hadn’t passed since I couldn’t remember when that Max had gone to sleep before making love to me, I stripped off my clothes and started to climb onto the bed.

What are you doing? he asked with surprise.

I bent maneuvered so that my breast grazed his face as I climbed over his bulk to get onto the bed. I’m getting into bed so that you can have your sex to go to sleep by, baby.

He shocked by saying, Not tonight, my love. I just want to sleep. You take your shower and go back down with Megan. I’m sure that you two missed each other. Tell Megan I’ll catch up with her tomorrow, okay?

I was speechless with surprise and worry over his declining my offer of my body as I climbed back over my notoriously horny husband and stood by the bed. I watched the steady rhythm of his chest as it raised and lowered for a few seconds before heading into the bathroom for a quick shower. I could hear his soft snores when I finished and went to my dresser to pull out a pair of sweat shorts and a tee shirt.

I kissed him lightly on the forehead before heading downstairs for my cup of hot chocolate.

Megan was already at the stove heating up the milk when I entered the kitchen. I pulled two mugs from the cupboard and set them on the counter beside her.

Is Max okay? she asked.

I’m sure that he will be, I sighed. He went to bed right away. He was snoring when I came down.

Stress and shock will do that to a person, she mused.

It’s a horrible thing. I have no idea what was in there that was lost to him, but I can only imagine.

I don’t think that you can, she said.

I don’t understand, I said with knitted brow.

It’s probably best for him to tell you, she hedged.

Oh, no. You can’t do that. Don’t you dare tease me with partial information, I grumbled as she poured the heated chocolate milk into our mugs and slid one to me. Tell me, now.

I could be wrong. I mean, it’s been years since we’ve talked about it. But, the last I knew, my sister’s ashes were in that house. He not only lost his worldly possessions to the fire. He lost the ashes of his first true love.

I don’t know how to feel or what to say, I stammered as I sat down at the kitchen table and stared at the mug in front of me. He was just a young boy when she killed herself. How did he come by her ashes?

He didn’t have all of the ashes. Just some. He asked my parents and, knowing his pain, they gave him some. The last I knew, he kept them in a jar in his bedroom, she said.

That’s not creepy, I shuddered.

We’re talking about my sister, she said with a warning tone.

It doesn’t matter whose ashes they were. I think it’s creepy is all that I’m saying. Nothing against your sister, I said, apologetically.

She looked at me long and hard and then smiled. You’re right. It is creepy. For all I know, he got rid of them.

Did your parents keep theirs? I asked.

We had a ceremony in the woods and spread them. It’s our way, she explained.

That’s not creepy. That’s beautiful. It’s a shame Max didn’t do something like that.

He may have, she said. It’s been quite a few years, she offered.

What else would make him behave in such a way as he has over this fire? I asked with sincerity. You know him better than I do in many ways. What loss could crush him like this, other than Melissa’s ashes?

She folded her arms on the table and lowered her head. I can’t think of any. If he was that materialistic, I never realized it.

Were you ever in his home? I asked.

She nodded. Many times.

And? I asked with eagerness and raised brow.

She got a faraway look in her eyes. It was a normal house. Not too shabby, but not the Taj Mahal either. I’d call it an average Wolf Junction home that leaned toward masculine with its décor.

So, it’s the loss of the ashes, then, I said with a soft, sad voice.

Don’t let it upset you, my friend. He loves you.

Not enough to let her go, though, I moped. What upsets me the most is that you’ve told me all of this in confidence so I can’t even approach him about it. The man has a mountain of secrets that he’s keeping from me. How can we have a successful marriage with that standing between us?

Silence permeated the room. I could see that the wheels of thought were working inside of her head, so I stayed quiet and waited for her to speak.

I’ll tell you what, she finally said. Give him a week to grieve and, then, if he still hasn’t talked to you about all of this, you’re free to bring it up.

A wave of relief swept over me as I thanked her. We changed the subject to lighter topics. I showed her pictures on my cell phone of our wedding, some of the sights in Las Vegas, and, then, Puerto Rico.

He looks genuinely happy, she said as she cradled my phone in her hand. He looks like a man in love.

We were having the time of our lives right up until Larry called to tell him, I moaned. I suggested that we come home after five days in Las Vegas. It was him who wanted to stick to the plan of a two-month honeymoon. I can’t help wondering if the house would still be standing if we’d come home like I wanted to do.

Should have, would have, could have, she mumbled. Why on earth would you want to come back here when you had seven weeks of honeymoon left?

I looked at her with surprise. You know, I couldn’t say. It was just something that popped into my head on day number five. I had no special reason.

Unless it was the spirits calling you, she offered.

Calling me? I asked with confusion.

They know no boundaries.

I visibly shuddered. I’d forgotten about that afternoon. I hope that thing is gone from here.

I did a few more clearings while you were gone, she said with earnest. I’m going to admit that I was shocked and I am still shocked by the number of spirits and ghosts in this place. Believe it or not, I still have some to chase out.

I don’t get it. You said spirits and ghosts. Isn’t a spirit a ghost?

She shook her head. A spirit is free flowing and intelligent. It knows no boundaries and can come and go at will. A ghost is basically trapped energy. Ghost hunters often refer to them as residual energy. Ghosts often don’t realize that they died. If they do, they aren’t able to understand where to go and what to do, so they cling to the familiar.

Can I ask you something without you getting upset with me? I stammered, hesitantly.

She cocked her head with curiosity and nodded.

"Do you think that