PSI: Blue (Psychic Sensory Investigation Thriller)

Young boys are disappearing without a trace in Phoenix, Arizona! Half Asian, half Celtic, Psychic Detective Aurelia Hiyakawa is the FBI's secret weapon. As she thwarts horrendous crimes committed by the worst monsters, she struggles to keep ahead of her estranged ex and her child's rebellious nature not to mention an IRS write-off-turned-nightmare. Unable to balance her bankbook or reconcile with her dead father's ghost, Aurelia, a psychic sensory investigator for the FBI's PSI Unit is one hundred percent ON when she makes multiple "blue sense hits." In fact, 'Rae' is a stormy force to be reckoned with as she fights crime and evil via the symbolism of her mind's undeniable language of shape and image captured on screen for the eclectic committee of the 'chosen' who interpret her visions. However, Rae's PSI powers have never been used "in the field" until now. Rae will push her limits to save children from a maniac who has an eerie sense that someone sees him and knows him...

From the Publisher

If you are one of those readers who can't help it...this is the book for you. Too often it is chillingly real, and yet you won't be able to put it down. Robert W. Walker has penned a novel that will stay with you long after you read the last word. But don't take our word for it.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Prologue "You be good," said Carnivore Man as he slapped on the last of the paint, covering Toby's hair and head and the last unpainted portion of his face even as the squealing old merry-go-round took Toby off again for another revolution. "You be good, boy, and maybe I'll let you live," Carnivore man said just before Toby spit in his eye. Toby Slayter, on his thirteenth birthday, had awakened to a kaleidoscope of color and the sound of Calliope music filling his mind; so loud in fact, it seemed to smother him, and yet no one came rushing to his rescue in this strange back-of-the-yards area of the carnival. No one wanted to challenge Satan. The villainous man, in paint-streaked, rainbow-colored red pants and shirt, dribbled orange, yellow, green, and blue from his palette, but mostly he slapped the child with a paintbrush dripping with blood-orange Kilz; Sears' cheapest oil-base bulk buy an exterior deck coating. He was nearly finished with his masterpiece. Just had to do the close-in work of the recesses about the nostrils, the coil of the ears, and the eyelids. Usually the hardest part to deal with. Kids fought like hell during the finishing touches, but soon after, the skin, unable to breathe, they'd quit flailing. Toby would join two other 'works of human art' in the spook house. One, an eye-popping chartreuse, the other a neon moon-glow yellow, so a blood-orange kid would set the others off perfectly. Some of Satan's victims didn't get that honor or ease of passing; others for no reason the handyman-turned-murderer could fathom somehow invited a weeklong torture session. It was satanic of him, he knew, but it was the only way he could feel anything; only through the pain and suffering of a child, could he arrive at any sort of heightened sexual gratification. He understood the needs of the infamous child killers labeled as sociopaths, like the Red Demon of Russia in the film Citizen X. Some would call him a monster. Some scientific types, like those who trained under Dr. Mitchell Graham and FBI agents who understood the inner workings of DNA imprinting, or just plain old ancestral wiring in the brain, might call him a throwback to the early European Kurgans, blood-thirsty savages, survivors of the last of the ice age glaciers. Kurgans today can be found on every street corner. Such men would likely gawk and drivel and spit tobacco wads at his art, while the scientists might call his artwork the expression of the long-dormant, recessive genes of pagan ancestors. Might even call his art an expression of primal urges. He consoled himself that all art must first pleasure the artist, perhaps more in the doing than in the final product, and he was an artist after all, in love with process. However macabre the content. The children on the street and those who found their way to the carnival, and especially those who found their way to his side of the curtain, just called him Satan. They knew intuitively in their little hearts and minds and spleens that Satan always assumes, on this plane, a pleasing human form. "The Devil made me do it," has everything to do with the supernatural taking on a natural shape. In this case, that of a humble man doing a simple, necessary job that brought a smile to the lips of a child. It's been proven by authorities and demonstrated on Oprah's TV show that children don't heed warnings, and whose fault was that? Certainly not his, and not even Satan's. Kids gotta learn; in a sense, he dispensed a public service here. His victims brought it on themselves. All he did was put out the lure. If these damned kids weren't evolved enough to avoid his simple lures, what kind of future did they have in the first place? And if not painted and put on display here, what else lay ahead for them? They invited him across a certain threshold when they accepted him, when they eased back on their natural instincts and their God-given gift of fear, getting comfy around him. He then took complete and swift advantage like a long-tongued frog that strikes a fly at an impossible distance. Not the frog's fault, frog is just following its frog nature.

About the Author

Robert Walker has gleaned his writing and marketing techniques from selling over forty novels to major publishers in New York City. In addition, he is the acclaimed author of the Instinct and Edge Series of forensic and suspense novels and has taught writing in all its permutations for over 25 years. Robert is a master at crafting and selling commercial and literary fiction has helped numerous writers get their work published including Pat Mulan who is now sitting squarely on a nominations list of this year's best thriller writers with famous authors such as David Morrell and Dean R. Koontz. Robert is a graduate of Northwestern University and he holds a Masters degree in English Education.

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