#enemiestolovers #hurtcomfort #paranormaldetective #murdermystery #suspense #mmromance

Scars of the Soul

​Scars of the Soul is a standalone story set in the same world as Shadows of the Soul. While you might meet old friends, reading the earlier book is unnecessary to enjoy this story.

Neo grapples with his psychic abilities and has been drifting in a sea of chaos for as long as he can remember. Studying toward his Ph.D. in Experimental Psychology, he’s tried to move on with his life. However, he still finds part of himself stuck on an unsolved case from a decade ago, lost in memories and hounded by the ghosts of his past. When a young woman appears in his vision, he can’t shake the feeling that she’s important.

But can he find someone who believes him?

Jackson, a lynx shifter and detective on the Paranormal squad, is begrudgingly still on leave from work after his accident a few months ago. To pass the time, he throws himself into a case that has plagued him for a decade, the one that got away. When an unwelcome blast from the past might hold the key to moving the case forward, Jackson is forced to take the gamble of his life to see if this ‘psychic’ is the real deal.

Jackson’s firm bet is on NOT!

When they meet for the first time, Jackson and Neo are more surprised than anyone to find out the Fates have deemed them a match. This must be a joke, surely.

Can these two scarred souls find peace?

Come along for the ride as they hunt for the elusive Desert Rose Killer and see if they can get their HEA despite how much they think they hate each other.

Trigger warnings: This story contains an on-page depiction of a suicide and descriptions of murder scenes.

Aside from that, this is a love story intended for adults. Coarse language, some violence, and intimate situations between two consenting adults will be found between these pages.



“Oh, my gods. Oh, my gods. Oh, my gods.” Neo paced the small space. What in the hell just happened?
After the end of the first call, Neo had been beside himself. Talking to Jackson had been a sharp reminder of the prejudice he’d faced his whole life. Anger, frustration, and hurt had slapped him from all angles. He’d felt stupid for even considering Jackson might take him seriously. The most Jackson had offered was a begrudging acceptance that it was possible the vision was connected and that he’d explore the new information.
“But don’t hold your breath, kid.”
Gods, he’s an asshole.
It was more than Neo could have hoped for, but after that small victory, everything had turned to hell in a handbasket, and they’d argued. Neo couldn’t remember the last time he spoke to someone like that; it wasn’t his usual, but something about Jackson had crawled under his skin. He was determined to stick up for himself.
When he hung up the phone, he’d slipped down the nearest wall and let tears roll down his face. He’d quickly changed back into his still-damp clothes, knowing they’d get wet again as he went to his next destination. When Jackson called back, he had just grabbed his keys from his kitchen bench and was determined to head out to The Pacifier to ease his troubled spirit.
He’d been forced to smile; he’d saved Jackson’s number under “Asshole” and was shocked to see the pet name flashing on his screen. But what had surprised him the most was his change in tone. Jackson had clearly spoken to someone, two someones as it turned out, and they’d both helped him see reason.
But it was more than that; he was about to have one of his dreams come true! He knew his lecturers and mentor would be more than happy for him to take some time away from his studies for the opportunity to work with Darius Sung! He was a fuckin’ legend!
“I was rude, dismissive, and pushy,” Neo repeated Jackson’s words. Damn right you were, but you were pretty quick to see it. Less than an hour had passed between calls, so Jackson was clearly easier to sway than he’d first thought—when it came to people he trusted, that is.
Ahh, trust. It was something Neo had struggled with giving and receiving his whole life. They’d even discussed their need to trust each other, and Jackson hadn’t jumped down his neck at the statement, either. In fact, if memory served him correctly, there was even amusement in Jackson’s tone.
What the fuck? Why am I analyzing him? He’s just some tool detective whose only role in my life is to close the Desert Rose Killer chapter of my life so I can move on and focus on the career I have ahead of me.
As much as he tried to convince himself of that, something nagged at the center of his chest. It doesn’t matter, Neo told himself. Looking at his keys on the kitchen bench, he decided to stick to his original plan. A couple of shots, a dance, and I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.
Neo grabbed his jacket, scarf, and gloves and headed out the door with a smile on his face. Darius fuckin’ Sung!
Even the drizzle that seemed to be able to wheedle its way into Neo’s clothes couldn’t dampen his mood (pun intended). Because now, instead of drowning his sorrows, he was celebrating. Despite how heated their conversation had become, he had to admit that even when they’d been going toe-to-toe, Neo felt an inexplicable connection to Jackson. It reminded him of those odd feelings he’d had all those years ago. He’d assumed it was just his self-deprecation coming to the fore, but all these years later, to still feel so…
Now that’s a damned good question… What does Jackson make me feel?
Angry, hurt, rejected, other, different, bad, wrong… and something else, something Neo either didn’t want to acknowledge or very honestly couldn’t, but… I guess I’ll find out when I finally meet him face-to-face tomorrow.