When Death Interferes

Mmm – the very notion of death and spirits is very interesting and has been to me since I was a kid. Probably one of the reasons is that I have always been able to talk with the dead. Yep – no kidding. I was the weird kid who could tell the future, figure out what card you were holding and had ghosts contact me to try and reach out to loved ones. I’ve been tested and my precognitive skills are high. However as we age we lose sensitivity to the ability. But sometimes ghosts talk to me and there are times I can’t stop the voices.

When we love and lose – as in death – are we really gone? Mmmm… Now you have to know my answer. I am giving you a taste of an upcoming piece I am writing at DH Black. This one is a thriller of sorts, but in an entirely different way. What happens when two worlds collide – live and death? Can love prevail? Coming soon…


“I want to die. There. Are you happy I said the words? Are you happy I was able to finally tell you what I’ve been thinking about for almost six fucking years? Are you happy to hear I’ve almost eaten a bullet fifty times, maybe more since the damn shit happened in my life? In the last month alone I played Russian Roulette at least half HisLastConversation_Cover-smalla dozen times.” Blaine Michaels shifted forward on the couch, his hateful glare cutting through the petite woman sitting in front of him. Yet she didn’t flinch, her eyes didn’t even blink. Bristling, he wanted nothing but a tall drink. He hadn’t drowned his sorrows in far too long. Tonight he was going to change all that bullshit. Rage seared every nerve ending until he realized he was having trouble breathing.

He sighed and looked out the window, studying the gentle swaying of the trees. Yeah, the damn exercise suggested to diffuse his anger. As if anything would or could work. The day was bright and sunny and he had no doubt birds were fucking chirping as if life was good. Well for him life sucked. Maybe he really did want to die. The Russian Roulette part was a bald faced lie, but the other statements were true enough. His sister had taken his gun after a heated argument, locking the piece away to keep him safe. He’d laughed at Stacy, calling her a bitch more times than he could count. And her retort had been she loved him with all her heart. Jesus.

A full minute must have dragged by and Blaine was edgy, just like he’d been every time he was in her office. The surroundings were serene, even what some would call beautiful in a stark manner, but he was anything but at peace. Today was just another tell in Hell.

“Blaine, you have to remember what time of the year it is. Everyone deals with this kind of things different.” Her voice was soft but firm, very controlled.

And he hated her for the fact she could be so damn unemotional when he was a complete wreck inside. Dr. Jayne Williams had been close kisshis counselor, his psychiatrist for almost five years. He had a love-hate relationship with her and while she was damn good at what she did, he no longer thought the counseling was helping in any shape or form. He was still a burned out shell of a man, one only capable of working and sleeping. He had no friends and his sister and her family barely tolerated him. “After all this time?”

“After all this time. Yes. Of course. There are no rule books and no methods to handle this.”

“You mean short of drugs?”

Dr. Williams tilted her head. “We could certainly try those if that’s what you want.”

“No!” Blaine jerked to his feet. “I do not want some mind altering drug that will basically put me into a comatose state. That was a damn rhetorical question. You people are all alike!” He was keenly aware his voice had risen to the unacceptable level, but right now he didn’t give a royal shit. This time he witnessed her eyes flash in frustration.

“Calm down, Blaine. You’re just overwrought from the anniversary coming.”

“Yeah well, that always gets me down. Right?” He laughed and paced the floor. Every year like clockwork he became unglued. The damn event was almost ten days away. What in the world was he going to be like as the date drew closer? This was pathetic.

“Let me offer you a suggestion and no, not drugs,” Dr. Williams suggested.

He gave her a hard look and moved toward the window, easing against the wall. “Whatever.”

“Why don’t you change the venue this year. Go somewhere else for a few days, a couple of weeks. You must have the time off.”

The thought wasn’t bad but Blaine had no idea how to respond.

“Not a bad idea?”

Blaine shrugged. “No, not a bad idea.” Working as an architect allowed him to be creative with his schedule. He could in truth work anywhere. He hadn’t been away from the city since the…incident. Maybe because he’d been afraid that if he left his memories would go. He lowered his head, closing his eyes and tried to imagine where in the world he’d even go. Hearing the tick-tock of her wall clock made him cringe. Why couldn’t the good doctor play music or have the television on instead of the constant ticking. The tone seemed to remain in his mind for a solid day after his regular visits with her.

“Well, our time is almost up. Is there anything else you’d like to share with me?” The inflection of her voice had suddenly changed, becoming much more chirpy.

Shit. He’d be happy to get away from his depressing self too. “No, nothing. Thank you for your time, doctor. I didn’t mean to be so antagonistic today.”

Dr. Williams rose from her chair and smiled. “I know what you’re going through so it’s okay. You know how to reach me if you need my help.” She started walking toward the door, checking her watch.

Of course she kept perfect timing, never allowing the sessions to go more bondageover even one minute. Maybe the next guy on the list was gonna freak out if his time with the good doctor ran late. Chuckling, he realized how ridiculous this entire situation was. He wasn’t doing anything but draining his bank account. Time away? Hmmm… “Thank you again.” He shook her hand and the second she closed the door he sucked in his breath.

Did he think she really had any idea about his level of loss or the guilt he felt that he was still alive? No way. The woman had more degrees posted on her wall than any other human he’d seen. She drove a Mercedes convertible, had pictures on her credenza of vacations to Italy and France and seemed to be totally in love with her husband. The two Golden Retrievers were always groomed and had shining eyes and happy faces. Life was good in her world.

Avoiding the elevator, he headed for the stairwell. As Blaine walked down the stairs, his feet heavy, a cold chill swept over him. While he’d learned to hate confined spaces, walking down from her office had never bothered him until now. Gulping air, he pressed his hand to his forehead, wiping away strings of sweat. How could someone go from freezing to dripping in perspiration in less than a minute? Out of breath, he leaned against the wall, cognizant of the fact he the lights seemed to be dimming in front of his eyes. He leaned over and had to grip the railing. He was close to blacking out. This hadn’t happened in almost a year. Closing his eyes, he swayed back and forth. Don’t do this. Don’t.


When Blaine Michaels watched his lover of six years run down by a drunk driver, he almost lost his mind. Every night dreams of their last conversation dragged him into his own private hell. Burying himself into his work, two years go by and on the eve of the damning anniversary he received a package from a ghost. Ripped apart by the stunning prose written as a gesture of love, Blaine is determined to find out where the journal has been. In an uncharacteristic move he abandoned his home for an extended stay in the Keys armed with nothing more than a single clue and a continuous voice encouraging his journey of self-discovery.

Ryan Drummand is an accountant by day but at night creates a masterful literary world on stage performing pieces for a select audience of the upper echelon who indulge in a darker side of eroticism. A chance meeting with Blaine brings Ryan close to the man he’s come to admire from afar and he’s determined to heal Blaine’s tortured soul. Little does Blaine know of the truth behind Ryan’s adoration and of his powerful psychic abilities. As both enter into a passionate romance, a series of secrets and haunted whispers threaten them both until the two men are forced to confront all they believe to be the truth about the power of the afterlife.

I hope you’ve enjoyed a taste of the other guy…



About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
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