The US government recruits psychics to find spies during WWII.
Opening herself to ridicule by revealing she’s clairvoyant is the last thing U.S. WAVES Lieutenant Livvy Delacourt wants, but when Uncle Sam needs her skill to track Nazi spies, she jumps in with both feet.
JoAnn Smith Ainsworth experienced food ration books, Victory Gardens and black-out sirens as a child. These memories help her create vivid descriptions of time and place for her award-winning, WWII paranormal suspense series wherein the U.S. government recruits psychics to hunt down Nazi spies.
1. Expect Trouble was a runner-up in the 2016 Shelf Unbound Best Indie Book Competition and a semi-finalist in the East Texas Writers Guild first-chapter contest.
2. Expect Deception was a finalist in the 2016 Best Book Award in the category of Mystery/Suspense and a finalist in the East Texas Writers Guild first-chapter contest.
Ms. Ainsworth is the author of six published novels. Expect Betrayal (Book 3) will release in 2020.
She has B.A. and M.A.T. degrees in English and has completed her M.B.A. studies. She lives in northern California.
To learn more, please visit https://www.joannsmithainsworth.com or send an email to email@example.com. Twitter @JoAnnAinsworth
The last person Livvy expected to see as her new boss was her unrequited high school crush. Awkward! Embarrassing, too. She recognized him by his voice. He. on the other hand, was staring straight at her and he hadn't a clue who she was.
An expected blast of bitterly cold air hit her when she stepped out into ankle-deep snow. She leaned into driven snow to mount the steps to the front door. From the corner of her eye, she saw that her bobbed, brunette hair—where it escaped from under her cover—had curled tightly from the damp. Her glasses and wool overcoat had acquired a dusting of snow while crossing the driveway.
Bedraggled. What a first impression.
Inhaling a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and pushed the doorbell. No sound. She pushed the bell again. Nothing.
“I’ll have to get that fixed.”
She knocked loudly.
The door opened with an alacrity that startled her. The rigidity of the uniformed man towering above her made her feel she should click her rubber-booted heels. She tried to see his face, but snowflakes got in her eyes. She blinked and saluted. “Lieutenant Delacourt reporting for duty, sir.”
A disembodied voice growled from the darkened doorway. “You’re late!”
Livvy’s jaw dropped. She recognized that voice, one she hadn’t heard in almost ten years. The voice belonged to her colossal high school crush—Barrington Drew, III