Today I am so pleased to welcome S.C. Wynne to Joyfully Jay. S.C. has come to talk to us about her latest release, Beyond the Veil.  Please join me in giving her a big welcome!


I usually write gay mystery/romance, but I was thrilled to work with Blind Eye Books on this project. Nicole Kimberling skillfully led me through the world of fantasy, helping me to do my best to hit all the right notes of a fantasy story. It was fun trying something new. Since I write a lot of mystery I’m used to withholding nuggets of information and slowly letting them be revealed throughout the story. Writing fantasy was slightly different in that I had to be more upfront about what things were and why they were happening. It was a useful exercise in doing things a different way. I hope I improved my skills by working on something new. I especially hope you enjoy reading the book. I definitely loved writing it, and I already miss spending time with Lorenzo and Ian.



“Use my body if you must, Agatha. Allow me to be your vessel.” I slumped in my chair, peeking from beneath my lashes at my new client Mrs. Beckom.

Mrs. Beckom was probably late sixties with silver hair, peppered with traces of its original chestnut color. Her slender wrist was adorned with a vintage gold watch with stars and moons etched into the soft metal, and she wore a matching necklace.

The late morning sun snuck through a crack in the thick brocade curtains over the window, backlighting the particles of that dust floated in the dark room. “I’m here for you, Agatha. I can feel you hovering. I beg of you, please let me be the bridge to your sister.”

Admittedly, I was laying it on a bit thick, but Mrs. Beckom seemed receptive enough. I got the feeling she was the type who enjoyed the theatre, so why not put on a show for her? Her brown eyes were wide with wonder and it was obvious she was only too willing to believe anything I said.

However, the attractive blond guy next to her had a smirk on his full lips. He was a bit overdressed for a spiritual reading if you asked me. With his navy silk suit and red tie, he reeked of money just like his more openminded companion. My guess was he worked as a financial advisor, or some other stuffy profession. His long tanned fingers were adorned with chunky silver rings, one with a glittering green stone in particular caught my eye. The ring was nice, if a bit pretentious, but it was the guy’s mocking expression that annoyed me the most. The least he could do was pretend to be impressed. Dazzling clients was no easy task these days. Especially with all the reality TV shows busting fake psychics left and right for scamming people. The con artists really made if difficult for those of us who actually had psychic abilities to make an honest living.

“Is she really here, Great Lorenzo?” Mrs. Beckom asked. We sat at a round mahogany table with tarot cards staged strategically across the polished surface. A glowing crystal ball sat atop the table, smack in the center, and beside that a red candle flickered wildly inside a vintage wax skull. Mrs. Beckom’s chair creaked as she scanned the dimly lit room for airborne spirits. “She’s really truly in the room?”

“Yes,” I hissed, my breath almost causing the candle to snuff. Oops. “She’s with us now.”

“Oh, my.” Mrs. Beckom clutched her vintage necklace, and sniffed the air. “I smell jasmine. That was Agatha’s favorite perfume.”

“You know Glade makes many charming floral scents,” her companion said. “Perhaps The Great Lorenzo sprayed some air freshener before we arrived.”

I frowned at him. “I did no such thing.”

He shrugged. “If you say so.”

“Oh, Ian, you’re so naughty.” Mrs. Beckom sighed.

“Yeah, Ian, behave,” I muttered.

“Doing my best.” Ian twisted his lips.

I cleared my throat, and once more tried to center myself. I forced my pulse to slow, and blew out a cleansing breath. Spirits could be willful little things, and it was best if I was calm before they slipped inside. If I was agitated that could influence the spirit’s behavior. The calmer I was, the calmer they were. Usually. “Agatha, we need your help to find your beloved cat, Princess. Please, talk to us. We’re here and listening.”

“Yes, by all means, Agatha, spill the tea,” Ian snorted.

“Shhh,” I snapped, losing patience with his mocking attitude. Ian obviously thought I was a fake, but I wasn’t. I actually was able to tap into the other side. Granted, I added plenty of embellishment for maximum client satisfaction, but the reality was I could indeed communicate with the dead.

“I can hardly breathe, I’m so excited,” Mrs. Beckom whispered.

“It won’t be long now,” I murmured, readying myself for the spirit’s impending invasion into my body. It was crunch time, and I needed complete focus.

Channeling spirits was a delicate balance, and Agatha’s spirit hovered right outside of my body. While I couldn’t see her, I could certainly feel her buzzing energy as it swirled around me. But she couldn’t just waltz into me like a convenience store. I needed to wholly relax, and allow her in. Once invited in, Agatha could have a nice little chat with Mrs. Beckom, using my body as a medium to speak from her world. But there was only a small window of time in which the magic happened. Spirits were temperamental and easily insulted. If they didn’t get the attention they craved, they could throw little tantrums. If I waited too long, the summoned spirit would evaporate, and no connection could be made until another time. That would never do. I needed to get my money from Mrs. Beckom now, not later. My electric bill was past due, and it was impossible to run this business without electricity.

“This is so exhilarating,” Mrs. Beckom purred.

I ignored Ian’s derisive laugh, and said breathlessly, “Agatha, we need your help. I invite you into my body.”

Ian gave a soft whistle. “Better be careful who you say that to, Great Lorenzo.”


Being a psychic in the small seaside town of Fox Harbor is challenging enough, but winter months are brutal. Not that using his clairvoyant abilities to hunt down lost pets isn’t thrilling, but Lorenzo wouldn’t mind a tiny bit more excitement in his life.

Be careful what you wish for?

Things get more stimulating when the charismatic Dr. Ian Thatcher takes a romantic interest in him. Unfortunately, their promising evening takes a ghastly turn when an old man dies on Lorenzo’s doorstep, after warning Lorenzo his life is in danger.

Before Lorenzo can say “Give me my old boring life back, please” his home is ransacked, a fiery being tries to burn him to death, and he’s informed he’s the only hope to save the world.


S.C. Wynne is a Lambda Award winning author and has been writing MM Romance and Gay mystery since 2013. She lives in California with her wonderful husband, two quirky kids, and a loony rescue pup named Ditto.

FILED UNDER: Excerpt, Guest Post