Lucky Streak

In the late Nineteenth Century, in the small village of Stewart, Massachusetts, 1.5 miles west of Salem, site of the now infamous Witch Trials, fear of curses and witchcraft ran rampant. During this time, William Corwin fell in love and eloped with a woman who was already betrothed to another. The man William wronged, Martin Perkins, was the oldest son of the wealthy Perkins family from the neighboring village of the same name. To William Corwin's misfortune, Martin's mother, Mary Perkins, was a witch.

Book Details

Harlequin Enterprises, HQN
Paperback original, May 26, 2009, ISBN-13: 9780373773756

Introduction...

In the late Nineteenth Century, in the small village of Stewart, Massachusetts, 1.5 miles west of Salem, site of the now infamous Witch Trials, fear of curses and witchcraft ran rampant. During this time, William Corwin fell in love and eloped with a woman who was already betrothed to another. The man William wronged, Martin Perkins, was the oldest son of the wealthy Perkins family from the neighboring village of the same name. To William Corwin's misfortune, Martin's mother, Mary Perkins, was a witch.

And she immediately sought revenge on her son's behalf with this curse: Any Corwin male who falls in love will be destined to lose his love and his fortune. No male Corwin since has walked away unscathed...

Chapter 1

Amber Rose wanted out of the con artist life. Counting cards in Vegas high stakes poker games was not the way she wanted to live—even if it did bring in money she desperately needed to keep her Alzheimer's stricken father in a top notch nursing home, and pay his medical bills. She'd saved enough now to find another way. She glanced around the crowded, smoke-filled casino, where she'd arranged to meet Marshall Banks, her soon to be ex-partner. The Bellagio was his favorite hotel on the strip and she hoped the atmosphere would put him in a good mood for when she delivered the news. Amber glanced at her watch. Though it felt like hours, only five minutes had passed since she'd arrived. Relax, she ordered herself, when she finally caught sight of Marshall across the room.

She couldn't help but notice many appreciative female eyes stared at him as he cut through the crowd. With his black slacks and colorful striped dress shirt, and dark slicked back hair, he epitomized Vegas glitz and studly Andy Garcia-like appeal. Women had always been drawn to Marshall. As a young, impressionable teenager, she'd been one of them. Amber had had a crush on her father's top protégé.

Sam Brenner had been a gambler extroaordinaire, a man Amber had been in awe of. He was everything Vegas, big and large, dynamic and exciting. He'd adored his daughter and he'd seen to it she had everything she needed growing up and she loved him too. Since he was often traveling the gambling circuit, leaving her with his parents, she'd transferred her awe of him to her home town—enjoying the glitz and glamour that emanated from it in waves.

The shine had long since come off Marshall though, and these days she saw Marshall for who he really was. A middle aged man who made his living by gambling and cheating purely for self interest. Amber's reasons for getting into the life had been less self-serving, yet she couldn't deny they shared a mutual investment in their partnership.

"Hey, beautiful." Marshall stepped up beside her and pressed a cool kiss to her cheek. "How are you this morning?" he asked, interrupting her introspection.

"I'm just fine." She pressed her hands together to keep from fidgeting or tipping her hand before she was ready.

"Can I get you a drink?" Marshall asked.

She frowned at his question. "Isn't Noon a little early for cocktails?"

"Come on, Babe, relax. It's Friday. The start of the weekend." He flagged down a waitress. "Johnny Walker Black for me. And a Chardonnay for the lady."

Chardonnay was Amber's drink of choice when she and Marshall were acting the part of gambler and his bimbo. Amber didn't want anything to do with the charade now.

She waved her hand in the air. "Nothing for me."

With a nod, the cocktail waitress turned and walked away.

Marshall immediately cocked his head to one side. "Something wrong?" he asked Amber.

She shook her head. "No, it's just that it's awfully early in the day." Even for a Friday.

He pinned her with his astute stare. "What's your problem? You usually don't give a damn what I drink or when as long as we have a gig planned that'll bring in money. And I already told you we're set for tomorrow night. Relax." He reached out a hand to smooth her long curls.