Blind Vision POD Print
Keri launches an investigation when she discovers that Lisa, her twin sister attached in ways only twins can comprehend, witnessed the murder of her fiancée and narrowly escaped certain death.
Through a series of high-speed car chases, attacks and illegal activities, Keri is convinced Lisa is not over-dramatizing and they are both in dire danger.
Sensuality rating: 3
Cover Art by Bev Haynes
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Lisa’s legs buckled as the single red rose drifted to the bronze box slowly descending into the earth. She collapsed to her knees, buried her head in her hands and sobbed.
Keri Morrison considered rushing toward her sister. She needed to support her, an effort that only required stepping one foot in front of the other to make her way through the crowd. Her heels dug deep into the dirt, rendering her paralyzed. How could she watch from afar instead of being alongside her sister after such a devastating tragedy? Forcing herself forward, she rehearsed the dreaded words in her head, and waited for an appropriate time. She had, without a doubt, been the most horrible sister in the world, and would surely be rejected by her only sibling. A pang gripped her tightly knotted stomach like a vise, as an elbow nudged into her side, interrupted her thoughts.
Tilting her head and shielding her eyes with her hand, she gazed upward into the striking sun-bronzed face of a man dressed in a dark suit, hands buried deeply in his pants pockets.
“My sister was engaged to the deceased,” Keri whispered.
“Should’ve known. You look just like her.”
The wind lifted his dark rain-damp hair, and Keri stared into mesmerizing cobalt blue eyes. Attractive, six feet tall, broad shoulders, nicely dressed but rugged. The slight cut on his forehead signified masculine animalism. Her pulse quickened. He couldn’t be a friend of her sister’s. He had to know the deceased.
“Are you a friend?”
Well-defined dimples formed on his cheeks when he offered a smile. His lip turned upward. He pulled one hand from his pocket and extended it.
“I’m Mitch Hubert.”
“Keri Morrison.” Her fingers grazed calluses when their hands met. Unless her sister changed, her preferred acquaintances never partook in manual labor and their hands would likely be as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Lisa appreciated the pretty-boy type, Armani suits and Italian loafers. “I’m afraid, Mr. Hubert, you didn’t answer my question.”
Mitch pulled his wallet from his inside suit jacket pocket and flipped the cover open to expose his badge.
“I’m the homicide detective in charge of the investigation into Alexander Foster’s death. I would like to ask you a couple of questions about your sister, if there’s somewhere we could talk.”
“Are you implicating my sister?” Keri asked.
“Nothing’s determined, as of yet.”
Glaring at the badge, heat burned Keri’s face and her lips pursed. With narrowed eyes and gritted teeth, she forced a smile.
“Have you no decency, Mr. Hubert? For God’s sake, we’re at a funeral. Someone murdered my sister’s fiancé. Shouldn’t you be looking for the killer instead of accosting family and friends?”
Keri swiveled on her heels and whirled away from the detective. Within seconds, his stride matched hers. He grabbed her arm and spun her toward him.
“Look, I’m not the enemy, Ms. Morrison. I’m doing my job.