Free Curse of Tempest Gate by Karen Michelle Nutt Page A

have his back, too. “What
can I say, Loretta? The magic was in the kiss.”
     
    The End

 
    Author Notes:
     
    Behind the Scenes – The Devil’s Chair
     
    The Devil’s Chair or haunted chair is
actually a memorial carved effigy. Graveyards included these chairs
for comfort. They were meant for mourning chairs, a place for a
person to sit in comfort while they visited their love one’s grave.
Once the custom of these chairs fell into disuse, superstitions
began, tripping a new legend into existence.
     
    The urban legend of the Devil’s Chair varies,
but one legend states: if you wander into the cemetery at midnight
and sit in the chair something bad will happen to you.
     
    Other legends believe it’s how many times you
sit in the Devil’s Chair, three being the magic number for
doom.
     
    Sit in the chair once and you’ll have bad
luck.
    Sit in it for a second time and you’ll be
cursed.
    If you’re foolish enough to sit in it for a
third time, death will claim you.
     
    Still another legend believes if the person
is brave enough to sit in the chair at midnight on Halloween night,
he or she will be punished for impudence or rewarded for
courage.
     

    The Devil's Chair above is in the Mary
Immaculate Cemetery of Kirksville. John C. Baird created this
marble masterpiece.

About the Author:
     
    Karen Michelle Nutt resides in California
with her husband, three fascinating children, and houseful of
demanding pets. Jack, her Chihuahua/Yorkshire terrier is her
writing buddy and sits long hours with her at the computer.
    Her book, Lost in the Mist of Time ,
was nominated for New Books Review Spotlight Best Fantasy Book of
the Year Award 2006. A Twist of Fate was a nominee for Best
Time Travel P.E.A.R.L. Award for 2008. Creighton Manor won
Honorable Mention P.E.A.R.L. Award 2009.
    Her new passion is creating book covers for Western Trail Blazers and Rebecca J. Vickery
Publishing . In her spare time, she reviews books for
PNR-Paranormal Romance Reviews.
    Whether your reading fancy is paranormal,
historical, or time travel, all her stories capture the rich array
of emotions that accompany the most fabulous human
phenomena—falling in love.
     
    Visit the author at: http://www.kmnbooks.com
    Stop by her blog for Monday interviews, chats
and contests at:
    http://kmnbooks.blogspot.com
     
    Visit the author at www.kmnbooks.com.
    Stop by her blog for Monday interviews,
chats, and contests at kmnbooks.blogspot.com
     
     

 

     
     
    For more stories of
romance, adventure, mystery, suspense, fiction, and non-fiction
please visit Publishing by Rebecca J.
Vickery online at
    rebeccajvickery.com
     
     
    A sneak peek at
    Lucca: Warriors for the Light (Book 2,
Fallen Angels Series)
     
    Lucca had passed by the shops of the strip
mall, halting in front of the Laundromat. He inhaled again and his
body shuddered with pleasure, his pulse quickening at the sensation
that swamped his body. “Dear Lord.” The fragrance came from within
the Laundromat. His brows furrowed in disbelief. The scent couldn’t
be laundry detergent, could it? If so, he wanted a bottle or two to
take home.
    The white walls of the Laundromat made the
place look large and clean. Dryers lined against two walls and the
washers were down the middle of the room, eight in all, four in a
row lined back to back.
    One quick sweep, told him only two humans
were in there. His gaze landed first on a boy who was about nine or
ten years old. He was a human male with light hair, a towhead as
human’s would call the shade that looked like moonlight. Then his
gaze focused on the female standing beside him, perhaps the boy’s
mother. The female’s locks were a warm color kissed by the sun,
making the strands a light reddish blonde. She wore it back away
from her face with one of those clippy things he’d seen so many
females wear when the weather turned warm, but the majority of the
length cascaded down her back in waves of sunshine. The jeans and
T-shirt were nothing