Druid's Curse Series
As a Highland Warrior cursed with immortality, Malcolm Campbell fought many battles, but staying away from a beautiful witch is proving to be the greatest of his life. But when a blizzard traps them together in his castle and dark energy shrouds his home, her closeness ignites buried desires and tests the vow of celibacy he made to his wife's broken body centuries ago.
Izzy Alexander embraces being an empath and a witch'until she falls for a man she can never have, a man who hates the very essence that is her. When Tarot cards mysteriously appear, and Izzy experiences disturbing visions featuring their godchild in company with a demonic visitor, and the impending deaths of her sister and brother-in-law yet again, she secretly uses her powers to uncover the dark threat.
Without acceptance and trust, love is impossible. Somehow, Izzy and Malcolm must learn to do both before black magic claims another victim.
By letting go of the past, they can ensure their godchild's future and break the inevitable cycle of death each life time. As a storm rages, desire burns'and ancient evil lurk
Page Count: 326
Word Count: 80880
Why can’t I be like everybody else?
Izzy Alexander stared at the fish swimming, in their virtual aquarium, across her computer screen. While she sat at her desk in Malcolm Campbell’s castle, the soothing scene didn’t calm her as it sometimes did. No, the poor creatures were forever stuck in purgatory, they’d never get anywhere, never accomplish anything. Kind of like her, and her infatuation with Malcolm.
God, how had she fallen head over heels with a man who was in love with someone else, and who couldn’t stand what she was?
Why can’t I go through life with blinders on, not knowing what people feel, what they think by touching them? Why does my life have to be so strange?
Well, let’s see. Maybe because I’m a witch and an empath who fell in lust with a thirteenth century Highland warrior who’d been cursed with immortality by Lailoken, a Druid High Priest, and who also happens to be my current employer as well the owner of this castle in which I now sit. Yup, that about summed it up and equaled weird as hell.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she said and peeked behind her. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she met Malcolm’s stare. Damn, he was gorgeous in a rugged masculine way, but he was never going to be hers.
He leaned against the mantel of a huge stone fireplace in the great hall wearing black dress pants and a green designer sweater, a glass of whiskey in the same hand that had sent desire coursing through her body two years ago at his slightest touch.
But that’s all it had ever been, one night in Scotland, one kiss, the promise of passion.
“Can’t do what, lass?” He pushed himself away from the mantel, his long strides eating up the distance in the hardwood floor as he headed in her direction.
She held up her hand to stop him before he reached her, and her neurons shorted out. She needed her wits if she was going to get through this.
Malcolm paused on the thick Persian rug between two oversized leather couches and tilted his head, studying her. She pushed her office chair away from the desk, and stood. Her arm swung out to her side, and she struggled for balance as the rolling chair tangled with her legs. The stainless steel pencil cup she’d spent the last hour organizing and reorganizing flew off the desk. Crap.
He was on it in a second flat, bending over not two inches from her legs, picking up the scattered pens and pencils. The broad expanse of his back, and the muscles straining against his thin sweater, beckoned. She tried to resist the urge to run her fingers through his short black hair, and her hand actually hummed with need. The current raced through her body, overheating her blood, and she forced her tingling hand to her throat.
He plopped the metal cup on the desk where it had sat since she’d started working for him a year and a half ago. “Can’t do what?”
His rich baritone voice, liquid warmth, pooled in all the right places, and she backed away from him knowing she was going to chicken out.
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