Gypsy Love
by Angela McPherson & Lynn Vroman
Publication date: June 28th 2016
Genres: Adult, Paranormal Romance
by Angela McPherson & Lynn Vroman
Publication date: June 28th 2016
Genres: Adult, Paranormal Romance
Two centuries ago, Adrian vowed
to seek revenge against the Gypsy woman who bound his spirit for eternity.
Despite how far under the dirt Miryah Kotorara’s bones lay, he won’t stop
tormenting the Kotorara bloodline. The person doesn’t matter, only the name.
Until her.
Dr. Mia Kotorara has spent the
last ten years trying to forget her Gypsy heritage. Ostracized by her family
and emotionally damaged, Mia throws herself into her work to fill the void. She
forgets everything from her past—except for the man who solely exists in her
dreams.
When reality and dreams collide,
Adrian and Mia find something they never expected. Love.
Magic will bring them together,
but it may not be enough to mend Mia’s broken heart and Adrian’s lust for
revenge.
The Kotorara curse is never
satisfied.
As the curse threatens everything
they have overcome, Adrian and Mia must fight to save what matters most—each
other.
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Adrian
Their
routine never changed. Smack the alarm clock for fifteen more minutes of
grunting, snoring sleep. Grumble when the contraption bleeped its nauseating
music again. Shower, wake the children in the next room, eat some sugary swill,
and leave for a day of school or work. Day, after day, after day.
If I
hadn’t already hated these rotting people, their boring lives would’ve put me
over the edge.
Unfortunately,
my life, or lack thereof, mirrored theirs. An apparition only had so much to do
to fill the time. My routine never changed, either, not for over two hundred
years. Yes, the families would turn into other families as generations
progressed—I lost count of how many had passed—but they were all from the same
insane bitch of an ancestor. I wasn’t too particular. All they required was the
right name.
The
little things kept my sanity. Push the clock out of reach. Adjust the water
until it grew frigid or scalding, depending on my mood. If I were really on
point, I dumped that slop they shoveled into their mouths every morning onto
the floor for the mangy dog. So what if these specific Gypsies hadn’t cursed
me. A curse, I might add, undeserved. Two hundred years built enough anger to
spread vengeance without prejudice.
Pathetic,
but those little things were all I had. Not much else to occupy my time, and as
any good haunt would do, I followed the man, Luca, to the city after he dropped
his children off at school–every day.
I
wouldn’t have been a decent ghost if I hadn’t at least tried to heave him into
oncoming traffic as he scurried to his custodian job. I’d been practicing that
trick for years, coming so close a few times. Once I perfected it, the push
would probably be at the back of the wanker’s grandson. Hell, great-grandson.
Unlike them, I had eternity on my side. But one day, a few of the sodding
Gypsies would decorate the windshield of a city bus.
Not
today, though. Luca weaved around the crowd while I slinked through it, body
after body. The beastly man tended to hurry, always late due to his nightly
drinking binges, and I enjoyed tripping him up in his rush, a skill I had
mastered. A millisecond of physical contact might not get anyone smacked with a
speeding car, but stumbling in a hurry irritated even the most patient person,
which Luca wasn’t.
“Christ!”
He grabbed a lamppost in time to save his face from the pavement. “Knock your
shit off. I ain’t got time for it today.”
To an
outsider, the bloated man appeared as if he spoke to himself. But I knew
better.
“Well,
good thing for you I’ve plenty of time for us both,” I answered him. Even
though he couldn’t hear me, we’d had plenty of conversations over the years, as
I had with his father, and his father before him. I used to rage, scream until
my voice grew hoarse. Not a blooming soul ever gave any indication they knew I
existed. To answer now became habit, needing to speak to him as if I had a
voice left in the world.
Unfortunately,
I’d become as much a part of this heathen family as every other bastard whelped
by the likes of a Gypsy bitch. My story became an heirloom, passed from
generation to generation. The angry ghost of Miryah Kotorara’s curse. No one
had the ability to see me, much less hear a damn word I had to say. Bad luck, a
faulty alarm clock, a stumble on nothing, all of it blamed on something none of
them really believed in. Me.
In truth,
no one believed in me except for maybe Luca, probably the reason I chose him to
annoy instead of his brother this generation. What good were all my efforts if
the person I haunted thought me a fantasy? I was a curse to a god who didn’t
exist for the rest of the family. My attempt to scare, kill, or maim them in
some way ended up being part irritation, part fun story to repeat at dinner
parties.
Even
vapor had pride, and the Kotorara clan stomped on it any chance they had.
Luca
straightened his jacket and mumbled curses as the crosswalk light blinked to
proceed. Oh, to have the power to push his fat, greasy body into a lorry. I
swiped at his back, my hand disappearing through his skin and blubber.
One day,
you tosser.
As soon
as we hit the curb, Luca stopped. If I were matter, I’d have rammed into his
back. Instead, I whooshed through his body. Times like these, I was grateful
for the lack of senses, not particularly fond of body odor, sweat, and soft man
flesh.
“Well,
come on, then. Move your bloody arse.”
Even if
he could hear, I doubt he would have listened. Luca directed his attention to a
sleek building in front of us, a scowl twisting his lips.
I followed his gaze, frustrated as if I were the one late for work. “What has your attention, fat man?” My eyes landed on a woman who focused on the building, her hair so dark it almost shined blue. Her slim shoulders stiffened before she turned—and saw me.
I followed his gaze, frustrated as if I were the one late for work. “What has your attention, fat man?” My eyes landed on a woman who focused on the building, her hair so dark it almost shined blue. Her slim shoulders stiffened before she turned—and saw me.
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Author Info
Born and currently residing in
Texas, Angela shuffles three active children (not including her husband) all
over the place. She works in a busy pediatric doctor's office as a nurse during
the day and writes at night. She is addicted to coffee and chocolate, laughs a
lot, often at herself and is willing to try anything once. When Angela isn't
rushing kids around, working or writing, she's reading. Other than life
experience, Angela turns to a wide variety of music to help spark her creative
juices. She loves to dance and sing though her kids often beg her not to.
--
Born in Pennsylvania, Lynn spent
most of her childhood, especially during math class, daydreaming. Today, she
spends an obscene amount of time in her head, only now she writes down all the
cool stuff.
With a degree in English
Literature, Lynn used college as an excuse to read for four years straight. She
lives in the Pocono Mountains with her husband, raising the four most
incredible human beings on the planet. She writes young adult novels, both
fantasy and contemporary.
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