Table Of ContentIt was all over now. Her only son, her beloved son, was
condemned to death. For a crime she knew he could not have
committed.
She gathered her strength for what she must do. From the pocket of her
long skirt the old Gypsy pulled the bandanna with the objects. The pen. The
crumpled paper cup. The metal tack.
None was of great value. But they held the power she needed. For each had
belonged to one of the people she was going to curse tonight.
Her hand clenched the pen. “Justice is blind,” she whispered, then joined
the curse with the name of Wyatt Boudreaux.
“Love is death,” she intoned as she crumpled the paper cup in her hand and
said the name of Garner Rousseau.
Finally she picked up the tack and said, “The law is impotent,” linking
those words with the name of Andrei Sobatka.
Pushing herself erect, she stood and shuffled to the edge of the bayou, smug
in her satisfaction that she had evened the score.
Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,
The suspenseful tales we offer you this month are much scarier than
Halloween’s ghouls and ghosts! So bring out your trick-or-treating bag and
gather up all four exciting stories.
And do we have a treat for you—a brand-new 3-in-1 compilation featuring
authors Rebecca York, Ann Voss Peterson and Patricia Rosemoor. Ten years
ago, three men were cursed by a Gypsy woman bent on vengeance. Now they
must race to find a killer—and true love’s kiss may just break the evil spell
they’re under in Gypsy Magic.
Next, Aimée Thurlo concludes her two-book miniseries SIGN OF THE
GRAY WOLF, with Navajo Justice. And Susan Kearney starts a new trilogy,
THE CROWN AFFAIR, in which royalty of the country of Vashmira must
battle palace danger and treachery, while finding true love along the way. Look
for Royal Target this month.
When Jennifer Ballard dreamed of her wedding day, it never included
murder! But no one would harm the beautiful bride, not if Colby Agency
investigator Ethan Delaney had anything to say about it. Pick up Contract Bride
for yet another nail-biter from Debra Webb.
Happy reading!
Denise O’Sullivan
Associate Senior Editor
Harlequin Intrigue
GYPSY MAGIC
REBECCA YORK
R G R Y
UTH LICK WRITING AS EBECCA ORK
ANN VOSS PETERSON
PATRICIA ROSEMOOR
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Award-winning, bestselling novelist Ruth Glick, who writes as Rebecca
York, is the author of close to eighty books, including her popular 43 LIGHT
STREET series for Harlequin Intrigue. Ruth says she has the best job in the
world. Not only does she get paid for telling stores, she’s also the author of
twelve cookbooks. Ruth and her husband, Norman, travel frequently,
researching locales for her novels and searching out new dishes for her
cookbooks.
Ever since she was a little girl making her own books out of construction
paper, Ann Voss Peterson wanted to write. So when it came time to choose a
major at the University of Wisconsin, creative writing was the only choice. Of
course, writing wasn’t a practical choice—one needs to earn a living. So Ann
found jobs ranging from proofreading legal transcripts to working with quarter
horses to washing windows. But no matter how she earned her paycheck, she
continued to write the type of stories that captured her heart and imagination—
romantic suspense. Ann lives near Madison, Wisconsin, with her husband, her
toddler son, her Border collie and her quarter horse mare.
To research her novels, Patricia Rosemoor is willing to swim with
dolphins, round up mustangs or howl with wolves—“whatever it takes to write a
credible tale.” She’s written in many genres, but her first love has always been
romantic suspense. She won both a Romantic Times Career Achievement Award
in Series Romantic Suspense and a Reviewer’s Choice Award for one of her
more than thirty Intrigue novels. She’s now writing erotic thrillers for Harlequin
Blaze. Ms. Rosemoor also teaches Suspense-Thriller and Popular Fiction writing
at Columbia College Chicago. She lives in Chicago with her husband, Edward,
and their three cats. She would love to know what you think of this story. Write
to Patricia Rosemoor at P.O. Box 578297, Chicago, IL 60657-8297 or via e-mail
at [email protected], and visit her Web site at
http://PatriciaRosemoor.com.
Contents
Allesandra
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Sabina
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Andrei
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
ALLESANDRA
REBECCA YORK
R G R Y
UTH LICK WRITING AS EBECCA ORK
To Norman, once more, with love.
Prologue
The old woman lifted her lantern, the dim glow flickering off the Spanish
moss that trailed from the dark branches above her head.
Somewhere in the far reaches of the bayou, an animal called out. An animal
whose pain echoed her own.
Sinking to her knees on the damp ground, she threw back her head and gave
voice to her anguish. It was all over now. Her only son, her beloved son, was
condemned to die. For a crime she knew he could not have committed. He had
made mistakes. She had warned him of the consequences, but never in her
wildest imagination had she thought it would come to this.
She let her tears flow then. Tears of anger and regret. And when the storm
of weeping finally subsided, she gathered her strength for what she must do.
From the pocket of her long skirt, she pulled the bandanna with the objects. The
pen. The paper cup. The metal tack.
Spreading the cloth on the ground, she stared at the tokens she had stolen.
None was of material value. But they held the power she needed. For each
belonged to one of the people she was going to curse tonight.
With bony fingers she touched each object in turn, calling on her inner
strength, summoning the dark powers she had learned to control long ago.
For she had the Romany gift of turning the tables on her enemies. She’d
done it since she was a child. For small offenses and large, yet never anything so
large as this.
Her enemies had taken her most precious possession—her son. He was lost
to her now. Lost by trickery and deceit. But the three people who had cut out her
heart would pay in kind. They would feel the pain she had felt. For they each had
a son: Wyatt Boudreaux, Garner Rousseau, Andrei Sobatka. And each would
suffer a fate worse than death. A fate that would follow him till the end of his
days.
In a low voice she began to chant the ancient words of her people, weaving
in a curse for each man as she conjured up his face.
Her hand clenched the pen. “Justice is blind,” she whispered, then joined
the curse with the name of Wyatt Boudreaux.
“Love is death,” she intoned as she crumpled the paper cup in her hand and
said the name of Garner Rousseau.
Finally she picked up the tack, her finger caressing the cold metal as she
said, “The law is impotent,” then linked the name with Andrei Sobatka.
Three times more she repeated the ritual before gathering up the objects in
her bandanna and knotting the ends. Pushing herself erect, she stood swaying on
unsteady legs, then shuffled to the bayou edge where cypress knees jutted like
gravestones from the dark water. She tossed the bundle into the murky depths,
watching it sink before she turned, picked up her lantern and walked back
through the humid darkness to her trailer, smug in her satisfaction that she had
evened the score.
