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Lanyon series
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Curse Me Not - ebook

Gifted with the rare ability to lift revenge curses, Southern unsophisticate Elzetta Swan’s trendy new life is threatened and the hallelujah hankering she’s formed for the most unlikeliest of men could create a vengeful rage all her own.

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    Southern unsophisticate Elzetta Swan has gained the ability to see auras and the more lucrative ability to clean revenge curses from those auras. Embracing the gift faster than grass through a goose, Elzetta is about to finish her first year as a legally licensed bodywasher with a trendy new lifestyle and a countrified inner child that’s skipping all the way to the bank. But when a routine cleansing suddenly turns ugly, she begins to wonder if a powerful invoker has come to town—one who’s hooked on the rush of setting particularly nasty curses.

     

    As Elzetta attempts to track down the culprit, she faces two fateful confrontations. Each will threaten her trendy new life and the hallelujah hankering she’s formed for the unlikeliest of urban white knights, but together those confrontations could do much worse. They could create in Elzetta a vengeful rage all her own.

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  • Grade 
    01/30/2015

    Curse Me Not

    The wait is over. Finally a compelling romantic paranormal adventure without a vampire or werewolf in sight. And one for adult women and not teens! I especially love the heroine Elzetta - her attitude is so much fun but "real" at the same time.

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    Curse Me Not - ebook

    Curse Me Not - ebook

    Gifted with the rare ability to lift revenge curses, Southern unsophisticate Elzetta Swan’s trendy new life is threatened and the hallelujah hankering she’s formed for the most unlikeliest of men could create a vengeful rage all her own.

    EXCERPT

     

    My impression of Captain Caleb McGrath from the seminar was a little inaccurate.

    Up close, McGrath was not just handsome, he was unfairly handsome. Heavy-lidded, sloping gray eyes. Thick, short-cropped, reddish brown hair with touches of white at the temples. An open, lightly tanned face that sported the kind of creases earned from easy laughter and hard experience. The hint of a masculine shadow along and underneath a squared jaw line. Broad shoulders. Possibly a fit body to go with it all but his dark suit concealed the answer.

    Then there was his mouth. The combination of asymmetric lips and even white teeth created a lopsided smile that came out shy yet engaging. To men, I wagered it spoke of friendly camaraderie. To women, kindness and knowing insight.

    Now, as he tried to put me at ease—what a gentleman!—McGrath kept on smiling, shyly, artlessly and in that lopsided way of his that made me forget for a minute the reason I’d planted myself across from him in the first place. That he seemed unaware of the effect he was having on me set me back even further. For me, nothing was more attractive in a man than the absence of conceit.

    “Yes, the nice sergeant,” I finally managed, repeating his words. Shaking my head to clear the cob webs, I tried again. “Anyway, the sergeant behind the desk said you were at lunch. So I thought, ‘Well, I’ll get lunch too,’ then try to see you this afternoon. The pol…the sergeant suggested I eat here. Of course, I came in and saw you and, well…here I am.”

    “Yes. You are.”

    The captain’s husky bass voice made me blink. Was he coming on to me? When our eyes met, I was definitely the one to blink first, blushing when I did. Did I mention his hands? One capable-looking, calloused hand still held the newspaper off to the side of the table. The other now lowered the fork to his dessert plate.

    “If now is not a good time or if you think I should wait until this afternoon…” I began. “Like I said, you don’t know me, but—”

    McGrath’s expression changed then, not dramatically, but enough I spotted it. The smile that had come so close to making me forget my own name was now minimal and wary.

    “But I just realized I do know who you are, Miz Swan,” he said in a cooler tone. “Every officer in town knows Knoxville is now graced with its own little…its own licensed bodywasher,” he continued. “I admit when your file crossed my desk, I expected someone older. I understand you’re new to your gift?”

    “I’m the second youngest bodywasher in the country right now, sir. I’ve practiced less than a year.” Sir? Why did I suddenly feel like a kid caught smoking dope?

    “If you’re here to file a report on behalf of one of your…clients, perhaps it would be better to see me down at the station.”

    He hadn’t used his fingers to air quote “clients,” but the way he said it let me know the quotes were there, hanging over our heads like a weighted trap in a mummy’s tomb.

    As a bodywasher I’d run into prejudice before, but I was surprised to see it in an experienced cop, especially one who was supposedly the department’s preternatural go-to guy. I straightened in my seat and set my bag to the side. Putting my forearms flat on the table, hands together, I made sure I had eye contact with him before I started talking.

    “Captain McGrath, I find myself in a difficult situation. I would like to talk to you about it. A friendly conversation, if you will, between a licensed preternatural consultant and a representative of local law enforcement.”

    His attitude went from polite wariness to just plain wariness as he folded his newspaper and laid it on the table. He did raise an eyebrow, but thankfully he kept quiet. Got a clue, did ya? If he’d said anything I might have snapped at him. He’d riled me a bit.

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