Sidney Rinn Series by Charlie Daye

The SeerSidney Rinn Series Book 1by Charlie DayeGenre: Paranormal Romance
My name is Sidney Rinn. Growing up in an orphanage without parents and not knowing where you come from is hard, especially when you have a gift like mine. I’m a seer. I can see the past in any location I enter. Sometimes I see ghosts but mostly what I see is an instant replay of whatever event played out there. If it was important or traumatic to the person at the time then it’s important to me, otherwise I wouldn’t see it.No, I’m not psychic nor do I claim to be. I’m just your average girl with an above average talent. Unfortunately, that talent had me seeing a murder I was never meant to see, which in turn, led me two of the sexiest men on the planet – Det. Denton Archer and PI Mitchell Caldwell. When Denton asked for my help on the case, I jumped in with both feet not realizing that that decision would change everything.
Now, I’m in love with both men and the killer is after me. Can my life get anymore complicated?
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I’m not quite sure how to begin to spin this tale of the supernatural for you. It something that I myself am still learning to deal with but since I’ve had the “gift” since I was a child there is no use in trying to make it sound worse than what it really is, especially now that I’ve learned to turn it on and off at will.My name is Sidney Rinn and I am a Seer. No, I’m not psychic nor do I claim to be. My gift is by far, at least in my opinion, a hell of a lot more disturbing than being able to see the future. I can walk into any building, room or space, whether inside or out, and if something happened there I can see it just as clearly as I can see someone standing in front of me. It’s almost as if I was there or more rather like watching a movie that is always on instant replay.Sometimes what I see are residual hauntings. Ghosts who are stuck in a loop forever tormented by whatever traumatic event shook them to their core and it doesn’t necessarily have to be death. It can be something strictly on an emotional level that left its mark.Other times, it’s the energy of the place itself. It could be that something so horrible or phenomenal happened that the event tattooed itself on the essence of the environment. Occasionally, the actors or actresses in my visions, if you will, are still very much alive.How did I come by this gift, you ask? Well, to be honest. I’m not sure. I assume it came from my parents but sadly they either died or abandoned me as a child. I was raised in an orphanage.How was it that a strawberry blonde child with pink puffy cheeks and strikingly blue eyes was never adopted, you ask? Well, there were several couples who entertained the idea of adopting me, however, when they found me huddled in the corner of my room screaming bloody murder or laughing hysterically, they opted to take me back. Those that kept me on longer than that just assumed that I was having some sort of childhood meltdown at living in a new house, but they too took me back once I started asking questions about things that I should know absolutely nothing about – like when I enter my “parents” room and ask why mommy is in bed with someone who wasn’t daddy. Oops!So, I spent my childhood in St. Matthew’s orphanage. The nuns that ran the place were supremely awesome ladies. They never gave me any grief about my gift and pretty much let me do whatever I wanted, but I guess when you’ve been somewhere as long as I was you just become part of the landscape.Secretly, I think Mother Superior either knew my parents or of my parents, because the only place I was never allowed to go into in the entire building was in her office. I swore one day I’d break in there just to find out what she was hiding from me, but sadly never got the chance. As you would expect, life got away from me especially once I became a teenager. I was no longer interested in what lay hidden behind closed doors and much preferred to hide behind them with cute boys.Hmm… boys. Brings to mind my hot little P.I. friend that convinced me to join his team of sneaks and a smoldering detective who constantly asked for my assistance on cases but we’ll get to that later. And yes, you did catch the meaning behind “friend” correctly. Ok, maybe they’re both more than just my “friends” but like I said… later.I guess I’ll start my story from where I aged out of the orphanage and set out on my own. I was excited, overwhelmed and had absolutely no idea where I was going or what I was doing but isn’t that what makes life interesting?StrippedSidney Rinn Series Book 2

The case of a lifetime has landed on Mitch's desk and yours truly is the only woman in the world that can solve it! One of the girls from Para University has gone missing. Her last known whereabouts is a strip club called Tailpipes, owned by the notorious Hellhounds motorcycle gang. My mission... infiltrate the club, become an insider and find out what happened to her.
Easy peasy! Or so I thought. Getting into the club was easy. Getting out alive is the hard part. 
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I woke just as the sun was beginning to lighten the morning sky. I knew that if I didn’t get up and do this now that I wouldn’t get the chance to do it later especially since Lily had planned to take me out for a birthday breakfast before beginning preparations for my birthday bash.Slipping out of my bed, I threw on a pair of jeans, a sweater, and my tennis shoes and grabbed my jacket before swiftly making my way down the hallway and out of the dorm to my car. There was a fresh layer of snow on the ground and I almost felt guilty marring its perfection with my foot prints.I opened my car door and climbed into a car that felt like an ice box. I turned on the engine and cranked the heater up to high. A few minutes waiting for it to heat up wouldn’t kill me. Once the heater was blowing hot and I had stopped shivering, I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to Philadelphia.It took me about an hour to get to my destination. It might have been a little more but honestly I didn’t care. The only thing on my mind was my end destination.I pulled into the cemetery, maneuvering my car to where I knew Denton’s grave would be. It had been exactly a year since he died in my arms and yet the pain was still so raw in my heart, you’d think it just happened yesterday.I put the car in park and turned off the engine. Taking a deep breath for courage, I stepped out into the cold Philly morning and made my way to his graveside. His headstone was big, black and beautiful. His family spared no expense on it and I was glad for it.Dropping to my knees I hugged the headstone. I know it made no sense but does anything really make sense when you’re grieving the loss of the man you loved? My heart ached for him. I missed everything about him from his sarcastic sense of humor down to his dominating presence. My body shuddered as a sob escaped my lips.“The stone can’t hug you back Sid.” I spun on a gasp and almost cried out joyously until I remembered I couldn’t actually touch him. “Denton!”Charlie Daye began writing at the tender age of thirteen. With an obsession for romance, happy endings and the supernatural she delves into your greatest fantasies and worst nightmares. She will have you laughing, crying, falling in love and getting angry. She will always give you a HEA but getting there is the journey worth taking.Charlie Daye was born in Lynwood, California. Her greatest passions are music and writing. Her first short story was written at the age of thirteen. At the time her entire class was asked to write a short story for Halloween as part of a homework assignment. Most of the kids in the class wrote one to two page stories... Charlie wrote eight. The short story titled The Haunted House went on to win her district wide awards and was published locally. From their she began writing poetry as means of expression.
Since her writing career began she's has published several titles... The House, The Colonial, The Reservation, The Portrait, The Gypsy's Dance, Mistaken for a Call Girl, Her Last Request and Breeders. Four of which have been nominated for the 2012 RONE Award.
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