Free The Satyr's Curse (The Satyr's Curse Series Book 1) by Alexandrea Weis

to be with you. That is all.”
    All Jazzmyn’s nervous energy slowly abated. The tone of his deep voice seemed to have a calming effect on her. Instantly, that same feeling of being safe and protected from the world descended over her.
    Julian raised his eyes and took in the grand foyer around him. He browsed the beaded-crystal chandelier above their heads and the intricate plaster swirls in the ceiling.
    “It’s still as it was,” he whispered, moving toward the wide oak staircase.
    Jazzmyn followed his eyes up the stairs.  “What do you mean, ‘as it was’?”   
    “That you have kept the original décor of the house,” he explained. “Many of these antebellum homes have the same grand foyer, wide staircase, and opulently decorated first floor rooms to entertain guests and highlight wealth. The rooms on the second and third floors are much more modest and designed for comfort.”
    “It’s uncanny how you know so much about my home,” Jazzmyn joked. She nodded up the staircase. “There are four bedrooms on the second floor, and the rooms on the third floor were converted into offices and a small recording studio by my father years ago.” Julian’s face seemed to grow a little distant, as if he were lost in thought. “Would you like to see the rest of the house?” she inquired.
    Julian smiled and once again focused his attention on her. “Another time, perhaps.”
    Mr. JP appeared, trotting down the stairs from the second floor. When he came to the last few steps before the first floor landing, he stopped and began to growl.
    “Mr. JP, behave,” Jazzmyn reprimanded. “Julian’s a guest.”
    Mr. JP’s hair rose on his back as his big, yellow eyes continued to inspect Julian. Julian took a cautious step back from the staircase while keeping his eyes on Mr. JP.
    “I don’t know what has gotten into him. He is usually all over everyone who comes in the door,” Jazzmyn assured him.
    Julian appeared intrigued by the cat’s reaction. “I have that effect on cats, I’m afraid. They hate me.” He motioned to the front door. “Maybe we should go and leave him to settle down.” 
    Without warning, Mr. JP gave a horrid hiss and fled up the stairs at breakneck speed.
    “That was rude, Mr. JP,” Jazzmyn called up the stairs. She frowned apologetically at Julian. “Sorry about that.”
    “Not to worry.” He took the blazer from her hands. “I’m sure a day in the French Quarter will help me get over Mr. JP’s cool disregard.” He tossed the blazer over the thick oak banister and asked, “Why do you call him Mr. JP?”
    “I had this friend when I was a little girl; well, actually he was a friend of my father’s. He would come over to visit my father about business, but would spend hours talking to me. I simply adored him. I always called him Mr. JP. I can’t recall his real name, but I never forgot about him. I decided to name my cat after him, sort of as homage to our friendship.”
    Julian grinned at her. “I am so glad to hear that.” He glanced down at his gold Rolex. “We should get moving. I will take you to lunch at one of my favorite vegetarian restaurants, and then I can show you my home. How does that sound?”
    Jazzmyn’s body hummed with excitement. “That sounds great, Julian.”
    He took her hand. “Let’s go and have some fun.” 
    ***
    They strolled down the sidewalks of the French Quarter and Jazzmyn listened as Julian told her odd stories about the former inhabitants of many of the old Creole cottages that filled that part of the city. He seemed to know quite a bit about every famous house in the French Quarter.
    “Madame John’s Legacy was built in the French Colonial style rather than the Spanish or Creole style like the other homes in the French Quarter,” Julian stated as he stood below the long green balcony of the historic home on Dumaine Street. “The family who lived here was reputed to be somewhat eccentric. They were known for locking themselves in