Cursed
The Vitruvian Man, book 1
Paranormal romance (sensual)
Blurb
Ten
days of freedom. That’s all Fate had allotted me each year. In the streets of
Venice, I could walk among them. Mingle. Belong.
During
Carnevale, they had no idea who I was. What I was.
For
ten days, it didn’t matter.
Until
I met her.
Bruno diCesare lives alone by
necessity, not choice. An experiment performed by Leonardo da Vinci, who
believed having a dual DNA would grant a person immortality, used magic to
render Bruno a chimera – the head of a lion, body of a dragon. The only time he
can mingle with people is during Carnevale, ten glorious days of masked
anonymity, frivolity and intimacy.
Melina Weaver learned fire dancing
to enliven her dull existence. A scientist, her long hours at the lab leave no
time for a social life. For ten days at Carnevale, she can pretend to be
someone else. Someone sexy and daring, who lives on the edge.
Once she meets Bruno, her wish comes
true, but everything goes terribly wrong. Beneath Bruno’s costume lurks an
alpha male, but is he dangerous? Worse, can she return to an employer who sells
her research to the military to make an army of efficient killers? Her only
hope may lie with the man she’s just met and never seen.
Available at
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Excerpt
Light danced in his dark eyes. “I must admit, your fire dancing
fascinated me. What made you choose such a dangerous skill to master?”
“The thrill of the challenge, I suppose.” It balanced the rest of her
mundane life, to a degree. Mastering each new level gave her a sense of
achievement, where work couldn’t.
Something flashed through his dark eyes. “Mistakes must be very
painful.”
“I practiced a long time before I worked up the nerve to actually light
the wands. I found the fire great incentive to focus, however.” God, her grin
must be goofy, the way he stared. Such gorgeous eyes, such a deep brown they
almost appeared black. He probably had rugged features, if his large hands
provided any indication. Too bad he wore gloves, another barrier between them.
“Yes,” he said, “I imagine so.”
“What about you? What other magic do you know?” Oh please, can you get
any more ridiculous? It sounded like a line from a bad chick flick.
The crinkle around his eyes was the only evidence of his smile, but
enough to charm her.
“Lifetimes of studying the dark arts have provided me with many tricks.”
“Lifetimes?” she blurted.
He stiffened in her arms. “Pardon?”
She watched him carefully. “You said ‘lifetimes’. Plural.” And what the
hell did he mean by ‘dark arts’?
Rigidity masked the grace of his movements. “I’m sure you’re mistaken.”
He stared over her head as they whirled to the song’s rhythm.
Mistaken my ass. How very strange. More strange that the
question upset him. He’d clammed up, and his muscles were so tense, she
expected him to bolt. Better to drop it. For now. “Must have been a slip of the
tongue.”
“Yes.” Relief sounded in his tone, though guarded.
This man had something to hide. How intriguing.
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