A Mind Reader's Christmas (Eric Beckman Mysteries, Book 4) by Al Macy
Release date: November 8, 2017
Subgenre: Supernatural mystery
About A Mind Reader's Christmas:
Eric Beckman, a mind-reading private investigator, is spending Christmas
in snowy Vermont with his wife and daughter. He needs a break from
solving cases, but the townspeople convince him to look into the village
mystery: Every holiday season, someone switches the baby Jesus with one
of the other figures in the town’s nativity scene.
With the help of his ten-year-old daughter, also a mind reader, he soon learns that some of the residents of the small town are not who—or even what—they seem to be. There’s something supernatural going on in Newburn, Vermont.
His investigation causes an escalation of strange happenings, and soon, swapped manger figures are the least of the town’s worries. If Beckman can’t adjust his view of the world—force himself to believe in things he never thought possible—the Christmas vacation could turn out to be his family’s last.
A Mind Reader’s Christmas may be read as a standalone book or as Book Four in the Eric Beckman series.
With the help of his ten-year-old daughter, also a mind reader, he soon learns that some of the residents of the small town are not who—or even what—they seem to be. There’s something supernatural going on in Newburn, Vermont.
His investigation causes an escalation of strange happenings, and soon, swapped manger figures are the least of the town’s worries. If Beckman can’t adjust his view of the world—force himself to believe in things he never thought possible—the Christmas vacation could turn out to be his family’s last.
A Mind Reader’s Christmas may be read as a standalone book or as Book Four in the Eric Beckman series.
Excerpt:
CHAPTER ONE
When I looked down the hill, my daughter laughed at my fear.
The sun had set, and huge snowflakes stuck to Cosmina’s sled and
pink parka. I pushed the tail of my cheap plastic sled into the
snow and rested my hand on the pointy end. Devil’s Hill was the
steepest run in the park—if it had been a ski area, a double black
diamond sign would have warned away inexperienced sledders. Like
us.
Halfway down the hill, a monster dog tugged its bundled-up owner
along a walking path, straining against the leash. Other than that,
the area was deserted.
In the distance, lights winked on in the throwback-to-the-1800s
town of Newburn, Vermont. That’s where I was taking a Christmas
break from my business, Eric Beckman Investigations.
Cosmina, ten years old and cute as a snow princess, threw me her
thought. <It’s okay, Dad. Piece of cake.>
That’s right, my daughter knew I could read her mind. Although I’d
kept my secret from most of the world, she’d figured it out when
she was a toddler. That Dad could hear her thoughts was no more
remarkable than that he could understand the words she spoke aloud.
More importantly, I had passed my ability on to her—she could read
minds, too.
It’s not a piece of cake. I pointed.What about that tree?A massive pine loomed next to the ill-defined path that a sled
might take. “Everything looks soft, sweetheart, but that trunk
would—”
“But, Dad, I can steer it. I know I can.” She tapped the steering
bar of the red-runnered Flexible Flyer. Cosmina had inherited her
mother’s stubbornness. She pushed the fur-covered hood of her parka
back and turned on her irresistible, dimpled smile. Her black hair
began picking up snowflakes.
I looked at my watch. No, we’d better get back. Mom’s probably wondering where we are.
Let’s leave this one for tomorrow.
Our communication was a mix of thought transfer and normal-human
tongue wagging. When home with my wife, Viviana, we tried to
communicate with sound waves only, but it was hard to keep from
slipping into our habit.
The town rumor was that every year, one kid hit that tree when
sledding down Devil’s Run. Time to call it a day. I looked back
along the path that would take us to our cozy rental. If we didn’t
leave soon, we’d need snowshoes. When I turned back to Cosmina, she
was gone.
Aargh! Just like her mother—she does whatever she wants. She was belly
down on the sled, already ten feet away, accelerating over the
snow-covered ice toward the killer tree.
Amazon
About Al Macy:
Al Macy writes because he has stories to tell. In school he was
the class clown and always the first volunteer for show and tell. His
teachers would say, “Al has a lot of imagination.” Then they'd roll
their eyes.
But he put his storytelling on the back burner until he retired and wrote a blog about his efforts to improve his piano sight-reading. That's when his love of storytelling burbled up to the surface, along with quirky words like “burble.”
He had even more fun writing his second book, but was bummed by nonfiction's need to stick to “the truth” (yucko). From then on it was fiction all the way, with a good dose of his science background burbling to the surface.
Macy's top priority is compelling story lines with satisfying plot twists, but he never neglects character development. No, wait … his top priority is quirkiness, then compelling story lines, then character development. No, wait …
But he put his storytelling on the back burner until he retired and wrote a blog about his efforts to improve his piano sight-reading. That's when his love of storytelling burbled up to the surface, along with quirky words like “burble.”
He had even more fun writing his second book, but was bummed by nonfiction's need to stick to “the truth” (yucko). From then on it was fiction all the way, with a good dose of his science background burbling to the surface.
Macy's top priority is compelling story lines with satisfying plot twists, but he never neglects character development. No, wait … his top priority is quirkiness, then compelling story lines, then character development. No, wait …
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