Giselle Swenov is a radiant opera star whose beauty is second only to her voice. That is, until a jealous enchantress strips away her talent and looks, transforms her into a mute and haggard old woman, and forces her to leave the man of her dreams at the altar on their wedding day. Now there's only one person able to reverse the spell: Giselle's warlock ex-fiancé, Lucian Ivanu.
But three years have passed, and the ever-dashing Lucian seems to have moved on?he's inherited a vast fortune, forsaken his scandalous powers, and is even set to marry again. Will he recognize his former flame when she shows up at his engagement party and begs for help? Can she recover the powerful magic ring needed to break the curse before it's too late? Giselle's plight has a darker twist as she discovers just how far the enchantress's grasp reaches. . .
Praise for Beauty and the Wolf
"Dynamic and sensual, paranormal readers will gobble up this sexy read." —Donna Grant, New York Times bestselling author of Midnight's Warrior
"Beauty and the Wolf is a deliciously dark retelling of the classic tale that will make you fall in love all over again." —Erin Quinn, author of The Five Deaths of Roxanne Love
18,000 Words
Release date:
May 1, 2014
Publisher:
eKensington
Print pages:
60
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Night had fallen and Giselle was grateful for the shadows it cast.
Her heart drummed as she hobbled along the quiet streets of Bucharest. It had been a long time since she’d frequented this seedy section of town—a quarter typically filled with fortune-telling Gypsies, ladies of the night, and curious customers of both. But on this rainy night the streets were empty and Giselle was grateful for that, too. She’d grown older and even more hideous during her time with Ileana. Her face formed deeper puckers, her posture had become more stooped, and her hands were coated with a vast array of liver spots.
As she gripped her cane, Giselle’s joints cracked. She missed her beauty and youthful agility greatly, but above all else, she missed the operatic singing voice she hadn’t been able to use.
She caught a glimpse of herself in a hotel window. I’d give anything to be as I was.
Shrinking from the sight of her wart-marred face, she shuffled along the cobbles toward her destination. A rush of rainwater spouted from a gutter behind her and her muscles tightened. Ileana’s reach seemed to be everywhere. When the cruel witch had shattered her magic mirror in a fit of rage, Giselle had stolen away from the London home that Ileana had dragged her to recently—only to return to her native Bucharest in a paranoid state.
Her escape had happened so quickly. But it all started when she had refused to be part of Ileana’s plan to kill her stepdaughter.
“If you don’t help me,” Ileana raged, “I’ll never restore your youth and beauty!”
Stripped of any expectation, Giselle fled from Ileana’s clutches in the middle of the night.
Now fear escalated inside her. Ileana used the mirror to keep tabs on me as a servant—but who’s to say she can’t locate me with alternate methods?
Wheezing, she glanced at the businesses lining the street. At least the shop owned by Lucian’s uncle wasn’t far now.
Lucian. Her ex-fiancé.
With his six feet of height, two hundred pounds of muscle, and charismatic personality, Lucian would always hold Giselle’s heart. Thanks to his cool gray eyes and self-deprecating manner, he was as handsome as he was intelligent, thoughtful, and charming. Giselle had loved him passionately before her transformation and because he’d been her entire world, the day he banished her from the church was a day she would never forget.
Needless to say, it was taking all of Giselle’s pride to seek Lucian out again.
On this wet evening, hope inspired her every painful step. She intended to shed her elderly body in Bucharest and resume the promising opera career people claimed she was destined for. If she succeeded in gaining back her beauty, maybe she and Lucian could pick up where they left off. It would mean more to her than anything, but at the very least, Lucian was the only one who could help her, by way of his warlock powers.
Rounding the corner, she saw that Ivanu’s Sorcery Shop was nowhere to be found. Suppressing tears, she checked the street sign.
Paplonue Court . . . the right address.
Panic replaced Giselle’s sense of optimism and the tears she could no longer hold back stung her cheeks. What happened to Gregori Ivanu’s shop? It seemed a clock store had replaced it—and there wasn’t so much as a notice acknowledging the former establishment.
What will I do now?
She needed to find Lucian and she needed to find him quickly. Sucking in a breath, she entered the clock shop and hobbled toward the front counter. Endless streams of ticking nearly drove her mad.
“May I help you?” The man behind the counter frowned at her tattered shawl and frail appearance.
She made a writing motion in the air.
“Ah. Can’t you talk?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Would you like to write something down?”
Giselle nodded furiously.
The man supplied her with a fountain pen and paper. She wrote a note and handed the paper to him.
He read it aloud. “ ‘Can you tell me what happened to the sorcery shop that used to be here?’ ” He looked up at her quizzically. “You mean Gregori Ivanu’s store?”
Her heartbeat spiked. She nodded again.
“Old man Ivanu died last year.”
Sadness spread through her. She took the paper back and wrote something else. . .
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