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<h3 style=”margin: 30px 0 20px; text-align: center; font-size: 2.0em;”> Excerpt</h3>
Wesley got a good look. Justin. The man’s clothes were stained, his hair greasy. His sunken eyes were threaded with scarlet so densely they appeared pink.
“Look who’s here. The witch.” Justin said.
Darla didn’t move. She didn’t flinch.
Curses fell from Wesley’s lips as he raced forward.
“Come on. Leave her alone.” Justin’s friend pulled on his arm, but Justin wiggled out of his hold.
“Are you afraid of a little spell? I tell you all we need is a bit of her blood, dab it around the boat, and we’ll be protected. You can’t back down now. You hold her. Justin took out his knife and waved it at her.
“As above so below. As within so without,” Darla chanted her hands raised and fingers stretched toward them. “Let me see, how to finish the curse. I can make you into toads. No, that won’t do. You’d give the little creatures a bad name. Something more particular to you.”
The two men grew paler by the minute.
“Ah yes. I can make your ballocks fall off. Of course, I’m not proficient with this spell, so you’ll never know when it will happen, when you bathe, relieve yourself, or other more intimate moments.”
A well-practiced evil grin spread across her face that left no doubt she enjoyed the torment she inflicted. She stretched her arms and flexed her fingers reaching toward the two men.
“Yes, that will do.”
Justin’s friend took off running down the lane. Darla lowered her arms.
“Oh, what a pity he’s gone. The curse is specifically for two people.” Her brow wrinkled. “Ah, but I’m sure I can refocus it all on you.”
Darla raised her hands again. This time she pointed at Justin’s crotch. Her expression intense.
The drunk squirmed. His eyes lit with fear. Slowly, he lowered his knife.
Wesley took advantage of the man’s preoccupation and worked his way behind him. As soon as he was in place he tapped the drunk on the shoulder.
Justin gave a small yelp. When he turned, Wesley threw a right fist across his chin and laid him flat. Satisfied the man was out, he marched over to Darla and grabbed her hand.
“Where are you going? What were you thinking? And what is this nonsense about casting a spell?”
“You sound like my father. In what order do you want me to answer those questions?”
Her angry tone startled him. Did she think she could stop Justin’s attack with words?
“What I do is none of your concern.” She turned to move on.
Wesley caught her elbow and hauled her around to face him. She stared at him and said nothing. He didn’t move. He could be just as obstinate.
“He thought I was a witch so I obliged him.” She shook her hand free and stormed away.
“One minute, I’m not done.” He caught up with her.
“Ballock,” Wesley’s voice was low. “What do you know about, about ballocks?”
She stopped so abruptly he bumped into her.
“It’s a man’s most valued possession. Threatening that would make him reconsider his actions.”
<h3 style=”margin: 30px 0 20px; text-align: center; font-size: 2.0em;”>About Ruth A. Casie</h3>
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; alt=”Ruth A. Casie” />
RUTH A. CASIE is a USA Today bestselling author of historical swashbuckling action-adventures and contemporary romance with enough action to keep you turning pages. Her stories feature strong women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and all. She lives in New Jersey with her hero, three empty bedrooms and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she found her voice, she was a speech therapist (pun intended), client liaison for a corrugated manufacturer, and vice president at an international bank where she was a product/ marketing manager, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing romance. She hopes her stories become your favorite adventures.
<h3 style=”margin: 30px 0 20px; text-align: center; font-size: 2.0em”>Giveaway</h3>
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