Mediums Guild by Lee Fishman
Real estate agent Margo Fellshur can’t catch a break in a slow housing market. And her hopes of financial stability grow dimmer by the minute. For extra cash, the single mother works weekends as a psychic, reading cards and palms at parties – and she’s good at it. Too bad she can’t resolve her own issues. As a kid, Margo took her gifts for granted. Couldn’t everyone see auras and hear the thoughts of their friends? When a chance encounter connects Margo with a young pilot, he asks for her help in finding his sister who disappeared months before. Margo recruits fellow psychics but they come up short until a dream changes everything.
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About the author:
Lee’s worked as an archaeology technician, candy-maker, teacher, tour guide, actor, psychic, and a career counselor. Along the way she found her true calling, writing. She particularly enjoys unraveling mysteries and in her next life, in addition to being six feet tall, she’d love to be a detective.
What inspired you to write your book?
Some years back I actually worked as a psychic and had the opportunity to meet and get to know some great people doing it. One night at a psychic fair a young man came to my table asking for help to find his sister who went missing. My friends and I tried to help. We came up with some ideas and luckily she was found alive.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“Hi, I’m Greg Patterson.” He held out his hand for me to read.
I shook it instead. “Hey, Greg, I’m Margo Fellshur.”
I fanned the tarot cards face down on the table. “I’ll read your palm, but before we start I’d like you to select three cards from the deck. It helps me connect with you.”
Greg nodded. One by one he pulled the cards and handed them over. I saw the Hanged Man, the King of Swords, and the Tower. We talked about the cards for a few minutes. Head cocked to the side, he took it all in. Curious, he asked me about the Tower, people falling from a castle to the ground below, an image of chaos.
“Don’t worry. It can mean the end of the old order and the beginning of the new. Maybe you’ve had some radical opportunities to rethink your life?”
He laughed and nodded.
Now I was ready. I took his hand again. It was warm but not soft. He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty, I thought. Spending a few minutes running my fingers over the surface, I waited to pick up some energy. His palm was square, with straight, even fingers and a longish thumb. Often people want to know if they’ll live a long life. But Greg remained quiet as I explored the geography of his hand.
His headline was long. It stretched across the palm from under the index finger past the pinky. But what surprised me was his lifeline. His lifeline broke completely. It started again about a quarter inch later, very strong and deep, something I’d never seen before. I wasn’t ready to explore that just yet. Instead, I concentrated on his love line and commented on a strong line cutting through it, a sign of a romance gone wrong. He agreed that there were actions he regretted and that he had learned to appreciate what he’d had only after it was gone. I pointed out a few of the stars on his palm, signs of a caring nature. “I guess you could say that I feel for people, try to help if I can.”
“Would you say you’re inclined to think things through?”
He laughed. “No, I count more on my gut to steer me straight.”
Now I was ready to address the lifeline. I moved my finger lightly across the break and then stared straight into his hazel eyes. “It looks like you’ve been granted a second life.”
He nodded but stayed quiet.
I went with my intuition. “You were in an accident and walked away from something very few people survive.”
He sat back, pulling his hand from mine.
“I’ve never seen such a break,” I said. “This looks like a near-death experience, one that must have changed your life.”
“I’m a pilot. Last fall I was out in my Cessna when the engine failed. I had to take her down, but before I could land, the engine caught fire. Just like they say, my life flashed before my eyes. She hit the ground in the middle of a cornfield. I was thrown free. I came to just in time to see the plane explode. I felt the heat and managed to drag myself away as the cornfield caught fire. I came out of it with just a concussion, a broken arm, and three broken ribs.”
John appeared at the door. “Well?” he asked.
“Yep, she nailed it.”
Greg stood. He didn’t seem to want to say anything more in front of his friend. I took it as my cue that the evening was over. I felt as if I’d passed a test that I didn’t necessarily want to take, but I was satisfied that it had come out right.
“Thanks for the reading,” he said. “I felt a little funny, but John wanted me to do it, to see what you’d come up with. Sorry for putting you on the spot like that.”
“No problem, it comes with the territory. I was just glad to hear that things turned out okay.”
“Oh, I’m feeling great physically. Mentally, I’m not so sure.”
As he touched my arm, I felt a jolt. What was it? The lump in my chest told me it was sorrow. He’d kept it hidden. This sadness was not something I’d seen on his face. It felt fresh, different.. “Is there something else you’d like to talk about?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hold you up.” The look in his eyes said different.
I got a flash of a brown-haired woman, thirtyish. “It’s about a woman. Someone close to you.”
“It’s a woman but not what you think. It’s a family issue. My sister, she disappeared a while back. Couple months ago. We haven’t heard from her.”
“What happened?”
“Angela, that’s my sister, she’s a real solid citizen. But things got tough when she and her husband broke up. Before, it was always her and the kids together, going places. But after the split she needed to get a job. It was hard on the kids. But things were going okay.”
“You say she disappeared?”
“Yeah. But it’s not like her to take off.”
He needed encouragement to spill it. “And?”
“After the break-up she reconnected with her old boyfriend, Steve.”
“Then what?”
“They both disappeared.”
“You think they took off together?”
“At first. But she hasn’t called. Hasn’t used her phone or her credit card. Nothing.”
“And the old boyfriend? How about him?”
He shook his head. “Same. No car. No phone. Nothing.”
“I’m so sorry. How are the children? They must be devastated.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty rough on them. They’re little. Brian is five. Karla’s only three.”
“I wish there was something I could do.”
“I wonder. Have you ever tried to find somebody who’s missing? You know, like on TV?”
“Not really.” I had to admit to myself that with one or two exceptions, my intuitive work didn’t go much beyond garden variety fortune-telling.
“Could you help?”
Something told me to say yes. There was something appealing about him.
“I work with a group of psychics. We call ourselves the Mediums Guild.” I fished out one of the cards. “Here’s my phone number. Just give me a call.”
He took the card and put it in his shirt pocket. “Thanks. You probably need to get home.”
The full moon peeked from behind the clouds as he walked me to my car. He smiled but I thought his eyes looked sad even in the moonlight.
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