Curse of the Marhime [Roma Wolf Tales 1]

ISBN Print: 978-1-60154-353-0
Page Count: 268
Word Count: 0
MSRP: 6.00

A routine visit to the grocery store and a chance encounter with a psychic plunges Pita Sedgwick into a dark world of shape-shifting, magic, and Gypsy lore. Pita finds herself on a plane to Romania, seeking the answers to her mysterious birth and in search of her biological family. Fate intervenes in the form of handsome seatmate, Niko Ionesciu. Pita is sure she’s found love and her history. But as her innocent fact-finding mission spirals into a dangerous game of revenge and deceit with the Gypsy Matriarch, the psychic’s words come back to haunt her. Can she trust the people around her with her terrifying secret or will the search for her family end in the ultimate betrayal?

PRINT ISBN 1-60154-353-0
(268 pages) Spicy


They came to a clearing. The gray and Pita kept to the heavy undergrowth. Pita got down on all fours and followed the wolf, keeping her head down to shield her face from the backlash of the dense foliage. Branches pulled at her hair and scraped her arms as they neared the edge of a wide clearing. The scent of wet leaves and moss wafted up and dampness seeped into her clothing. She sat back on her legs as quietly as possible and peered through the bushes into the clearing. She gasped but covered her mouth before any sound escaped.

Before her was a caravan of Gypsies. A circle of vehicles surrounded them: old pickup trucks with homemade camper-like additions built into the back beds, station wagons, and even old horse-drawn carts right out of an old Gypsy movie. About thirty people milled about. Some sat by a large fire talking loudly and laughing, while others worked at some project or other and children ran about playing amongst themselves and a couple of mangy dogs.

“The dogs...” Pita didn't finish her thought. She couldn't speak. At that moment time stopped. Her eyes locked with those frightening dark ones of the Matriarch, the woman from the plane. The cold black orbs seemed to focus on her.

“She knows we're here.” Pita whispered.

“Yes...” That single word burned in her head like a hot branding iron. The wolf leaned against Pita as if to comfort her, to let her know it was there beside her. But she felt no comfort just cold fear like icy water running through her veins.

Malevolent eyes bore into hers, dark fathomless hatred reflected within. Then the woman's voice sliced into Pita's head.

“Go back from whence you came. You will not win, Pita Sedgwick…”

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