Free Curse of Tempest Gate by Karen Michelle Nutt

frown.
    “You know? Who are you?” Something floated
in front of her, tickling her nose. She swiped at it, only having
it land on her chest. Her fingers picked it up and she stared at
the cream colored feather before her gaze riveted to his.
    His lips curved wide and his eyes, the color
of the sky, burned bright.
    “It’s you, isn’t it? I’m not crazy. Last
night did happen.”
    “Yes, it is all as you remember.”
    She pulled back to look at him. “You’re free
of the curse.”
    He chucked. “It would appear so.”
    “Omigod, the connection to the stories. I
get it now.”
    “You do?” He halted his steps and put her
down among the pink lady’s slippers and starflowers that carpeted
the floor in an array of colors. They stood beneath the white pine
trees mixed with hemlock and red oak, the gold, orange, and green
leaves gently rustling around them.
    She nodded. “The kiss was the answer all
along, but it had to do with timing. When you were flesh and blood,
it had no effect. All the characters in the fairytales had the
curse in place. So when their—”
    He placed a finger on her lips, silencing
her. “Female, you talk too much. I already know the answer. The
magic of your kiss awakened me.” He leaned down, silencing her
further by covering her mouth with his. His breath was hot, his
lips soft, and his kiss just as heavenly as she remembered it to
be.

Chapter Eleven
     
    One Month Later
    Clarity checked her caller ID before she
answered her phone. It was her editor at Unbelievable Finds .
“Hello, Loretta.”
    “Hello yourself. I just wanted to let you
know I’ve finished reading your piece about the legend surrounding
the Tempest Gate Cemetery. It’s too bad you couldn’t get a picture
of the devil’s chair, too. That would have been something. Anyway,
it’ll be in next month’s issue.”
    “Great, I look forward to picking up a
copy.” Clarity told the true story about the Legend of Tempest Gate
Cemetery, minus a few details. No one would believe her anyway.
    “Now for the real reason I called.”
    Clarity knew there had to be an ulterior
motive. Loretta could have emailed her to let her know when the
story would be published. “Yes?”
    “What is it with you reporters? I sent
Aubrey to California to investigate a magic box and she hooks up
with an old fling. You take your first assignment in New Hampshire
and meet…who did you say he was again?”
    “Michael Davenport.”
    “Hmm, yes. Michael Davenport, the
great-great…good Lord, how many greats are in front of nephew?
Anyway, a relative to one of the infamous ghosts that haunts the
Tempest Gate Cemetery. He’s the owner of the hotel you’re staying
at. Am I right?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but kept on
talking. “I’m staring at the email you sent me, telling me that
you’re marrying this guy. I’m all for soul mates and true love, but
you’ve only known this guy for a month. Do you know how crazy that
sounds?”
    If Loretta knew the true story, then she
would really have a reason to think she was crazy. “What can I say,
I fell for the guy.” Clarity’s lips curved. She could hear Loretta
tapping a pencil on her desk, a habit of hers when she was
frustrated.
    Michael entered the hotel, carrying an
armload of firewood. He wore faded, snug jeans that fit the man all
too well and a dark blue sweater, which complimented his incredible
eyes. Last week, he had his golden strands trimmed above his ears,
flattering his chiseled features.
    He turned to look at her with his lopsided
grin and his gaze wavered over her in appreciation. Man, with one
look, he could make her feel like she was the prettiest woman he’d
ever seen.
    “Just how did you know he was the one?”
Loretta finally asked with an exasperating sigh.
    Michael strode over to her, slipping his
arms around her waist. She leaned back against him, relishing the
warm strength he offered. Like the Archangel Michael, he would
protect her at all costs and she would