Broken Dolls Excerpt

Broken Dolls by BR Kingsolver

Private investigator RB Kendrick makes her living nailing cheating spouses, digging up other dirt to help in a divorce, finding long-lost relatives, and occasionally sniffing out criminal activity and fraud. When she takes a job to find a missing girl, she has no idea she is headed for the most dangerous case of her career. Usually, her ability to read minds gives her an edge. But when the people she’s hunting are also telepaths, that advantage is limited. The search takes her into the dark underbelly of telepathic society, where anything, and anyone, is for sale. She discovers that telepathic women and girls are being trafficked as the ultimate sex slaves. With people trying to kill her, she’s on the run, not knowing who she can trust. Will she find the missing girl, or become a victim herself?

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About the Author:

I made silver and turquoise jewelry for almost a decade, ended up in nursing school, then took a master's in business. Along the way I worked in construction, as a newspaper editor, and somehow found a career working with computers. I love the outdoors, especially the Rocky Mountains. I've skied since high school, with one broken leg and one torn ACL to show for it. I've hiked and camped all my life. I love to travel, though I haven't done enough of it. I've seen a lot of Russia and Mexico, not enough of England and France. Amsterdam is amazing, and the Romanian Alps are breathtaking. Lake Tahoe is a favorite. I have a very significant other, two cats and two Basset Hounds. I'm currently living in Baltimore, nine blocks from the harbor, but still own a home in New Mexico.

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And now for the excerpt...

We’d been at the embassy for about half an hour when Morrighan spotted O’Driscoll. She’d given me a mental image of him before we came. Close to six feet, a powerfully built man with dark brown hair, he carried himself with an air of quiet arrogance. Morrighan estimated his actual age in the mid-eighties, though his apparent age was in his forties. He had first been elected to Parliament about ten years before. In a crowd such as this, the politician was very much in evidence, as he greeted people with a smile and cheerful false comradeship.

“Did your predecessor know him?” I asked Morrighan. Hell, if she had hundreds of years of memories tucked away, maybe some of them were useful.

She shook her head. “She knew his father and grandfather. The O’Driscolls were notorious pirates. The English thought they had destroyed the Clan a couple of hundred years ago, but it just went underground.”
Her eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God,” Morrighan exclaimed, “I know that girl,” indicating O’Driscoll’s escort for the evening. He was unmarried, so it was no surprise for a powerful politician to have a beautiful woman with him. But she was very young.

“Is she a telepath?” I asked.

“Yes. I met her at O’Neill a couple of years ago and again here last year. She is, or was, a student at Trinity. She may be old enough to have just graduated. Her name is Sharon Dunn.”

We let the swirl of bodies carry us naturally toward O’Driscoll. I lightly brushed his companion’s shields and was disturbed by what I felt from her. I wasn’t sure why, but her psychic feel was off in some way. As we got closer, I noticed that she seemed a bit blank. The smile on her face never changed and her eyes seemed unfocused.

“Mr. O’Driscoll, what a pleasure,” Morrighan gushed. “It’s been far too long.”

“Miss O’Byrne,” he replied, nodding his head, “you’re looking as lovely as ever. How are you doing? How is your father?”

“Fine, fine,” she said. She mentioned some piece of legislation and said she’d like to speak to him about it sometime soon. I didn’t pay much attention, being caught up in trying to figure out what was going on with his companion.

“I’d like you to meet my cousin,” I heard Morrighan say and I snapped back to attention.

“This is Rhiannon Kendrick. Rhiannon, this is Brendan O’Driscoll, a Member of Parliament from County Cork, and Sharon Dunn. How are you Sharon?”

O’Driscoll’s escort continued to smile and said she was fine, and that she was pleased to meet me, but her expression never changed. It was starting to get really creepy.