About the Book
Publisher: JCP Books
Release Date: 11 October 2016
Length: 70k words
Official Website: psycop.com
Pre-Order Link: Amazon
Cover Artist: Jordan Castillo Price
Blurb: Victor Bayne sees dead people for a living…and he sees them off the clock, too. After all, ghosts don’t confine their appearances to a psychic medium’s work hours.
From the macabre to the mundane, from titillating to tender, these PsyCop shorts feature stolen moments between the novels. Get a glimpse of Vic’s life with Jacob between cases, from both men’s viewpoints. Gain new insight on their psychic talents by accompanying them on odd jobs, shopping runs and family visits, or simply enjoy some downtime in the cannery.
The twenty short works range in length from flash fiction to novelettes, woven together to create a novel-length narrative of Vic and Jacob’s relationship from a fresh perspective. The stories are gleaned from various sources: anthologies, newsletters, and web, with four all-new pieces to tie the collection together and delve deeper into your favorite PsyCops’ domestic life.
Stroke of Midnight
Most Likely To…
Jock Straps On Sale
Piece of Cake
In the Dark
Let the Chips Fall
Everyone’s Afraid of Clowns
On the Road
Off the Cuff
Locked and Loaded
Maybe I would never trust anybody one hundred percent but I knew how far the borders of my trust with Jacob spread. And that perimeter was so vast I might never find all the edges. – Witness, PsyCop Briefs
Most people have a still, small voice that tells them when something is worth pursuing. Not me. Mine was murmuring, Better not get used to it. – Coffee O’Clock, PsyCop Briefs
“Don’t even think about developing any new kinks, mister. Ghost exhibitionism is not a thing.” – Everyone’s Afraid of Clowns, PsyCop Briefs
If the mind is our best weapon, then I can guarantee, Jacob is someone you do not want to butt heads with. – Locked and Loaded, PsyCop Briefs
“Repeater. Two o’clock.”
Jacob digested that information, then said, “It’ll keep.”
Maybe. Or maybe this elusive moment was my only chance of seeing what I needed to see. Repeaters are ten times thicker at night, so in the morning she might be gone. – Witness, PsyCop Briefs
I was awake. I’d been awake forever. Contorted in a weird jumble of limbs with only the corner of one flat pillow to cradle my head, I’d watched the cheap plastic mini blinds go from dark-striped to light as I tried to tell myself everything was hunky dory, but the crick in my neck wasn’t buying it. All the while, mashed against my back, Detective Jacob Marks, big shot PsyCop investigator of the Twelfth Precinct, snored and snuffled his way through the wee hours of the night, blissfully unaware.
I’d been pleasantly surprised the first time he spent the night. Puzzled the second. Now I was downright suspicious. Nobody other than me ever tolerated my sagging mattress more than a single night in a row, but he’d stayed the better part of a week.
He was after something. But what? Try as I might, I couldn’t come up with anything he stood to gain from spending so much time at my crappy apartment.
If I craned my neck just so, I could make out the glowing green numbers on the clock radio, but I didn’t bother. I’d stopped checking somewhere around 4am when I determined that while time was not actually standing still, it was only moving forward in excruciating five-minute increments.
The room brightened further. A shadow up in the corner of the ceiling resolved into a cobweb. My place isn’t haunted, yet I was spooked by the thought of something lurking there all night just beyond my threshold of vision. I used to leave the lights on in the adjoining room when I slept. Jacob presumed I’d just forgotten, and “helpfully” turned them off. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t go turn them back on, either. And now look where I’d ended up.
Jacob sighed and squashed me even tighter against the wall. I should be counting my blessings. Sex. Right? I’d be an idiot to take sex for granted. Especially with someone who looked like him. Such enthusiastic sex, too.
Okay, sex was definitely in the plus-column. It was the fact he didn’t leave afterward that made me leery.
The alarm bleated and I flinched, and felt a twinge of pity for Jacob. Being roused from such a sound sleep was never fun. He didn’t budge, though. Already awake? The alarm kept on bleating. He burrowed his head deeper into the pillow…then snored.
About the Author
Author and artist Jordan Castillo Price writes paranormal sci-fi thrillers colored by her time in the midwest, from inner city Chicago, to rural small town Wisconsin, to liberal Madison. Her influences include Ouija boards, Return of the Living Dead, “light as a feather, stiff as a board,” girls with tattoos and boys in eyeliner.
Jordan is best known as the author of the PsyCop series, an unfolding tale of paranormal mystery and suspense starring Victor Bayne, a gay medium who’s plagued by ghostly visitations. Also check out her mind-bending trilogy Mnevermind, where memories are made…one client at a time.