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A Warlock's Dance (The Cursed Princes #3)
Author: Marina Myles
Publisher: eKensington
Release Date: 1 May 2014
Encore, Please
Giselle Swenov is a radiant opera star whose beauty is second only to her voice. That is, until a jealous enchantress strips away her talent and looks, transforms her into a mute and haggard old woman, and forces her to leave the man of her dreams at the altar on their wedding day. Now there’s only one person able to reverse the spell: Giselle’s warlock ex-fiancé, Lucian Ivanu.
But three years have passed, and the ever-dashing Lucian seems to have moved on―he’s inherited a vast fortune, forsaken his scandalous powers, and is even set to marry again. Will he recognize his former flame when she shows up at his engagement party and begs for help? Can she recover the powerful magic ring needed to break the curse before it’s too late? Giselle’s plight has a darker twist as she discovers just how far the enchantress’s grasp reaches…
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Excerpt
PROLOGUE
Giselle Swenov adjusted her bridal
veil with a smile. At the thought of marrying the most wonderful man in the
world, her heart beat melodiously—and as Bucharest’s leading operatic protégé,
she nearly belted out a glass-shattering note, too.
Restraining herself, she cracked open
the dressing room door and stare into the chapel. She knew her family members
wouldn’t be in attendance, but she scoured the pews for them anyway. From day
one, her mother and father had disapproved of her groom. What was they’d said?
“Are you mad, Giselle? Lucian Ivanu is socially inferior—and his connection to
the Dark Arts means he isn’t right for you.”
Giselle’s pulse leapt as she glimpsed
Lucian at the altar. Ironically, he looked nothing like a warlock. With flowing
white-blond hair, gray eyes that reminded her of storm clouds over the Black
Sea, and a knee-buckling grin, he resembled a prince ready to sweep her off her
feet.
Although Giselle wanted to stare at
him all day, she shut the door before he saw her in her bridal gown. She
refused to let bad luck seep into their wedding ceremony.
“You look beautiful, my dear,” Ileana
Zǎpǎda, Bucharest National Opera’s premier patron, called out behind her.
“Thank you Doamna Zǎpǎda,” she replied anxiously. At least Ileana was here to
help, unlike her mother.
“Come,” the elegant woman urged.
“Take a final look at yourself as an unmarried woman.”
Giselle swiveled around to survey her
appearance in the mirror. Cascading golden-brown curls framed her carefully
made-up face and a sense of optimism lit her eyes. She had become the bride
she’d envisioned as a girl and she could hardly contain her excitement.
“You look a stunning.” Ileana Zǎpǎda
stepped in beside her and met her gaze in the mirror. “But
you are a little pale.”
“Nerves, I suppose.” Letting out a
self-conscious laugh, Giselle studied Doamna
Zǎpǎda. Her refinement spoke of the lofty social standing Giselle’s family
wished she would reach. She winced.
“Sit with me and have some tea,” the
socialite proposed. “Tea studied my nerves before I married my second husband.”
Giselle swept her train off the floor
and settled into a chair at a small table. While she laid her bridal bouquet in
her lap, Ileana poured two steaming cups.
“Why are you being so nice to me, Doamna Zǎpǎda?” Giselle asked as she
accepted the tea cup.
The woman sighed. “It broke my heart
to learn that your parents disowned you. Word spreads quickly through the opera
house—and because I’m a mother hen to all my celebrated singers, I knew you’d
need some moral support on your wedding day.”
“You must be a loving mother to your
own children,” Giselle said gently.
Ileana’s expression turned icy. “I
never had children of my own. I have a stepdaughter, but we aren’t particularly
close.”
“Well, I sincerely appreciate your
help.” Giselle smiled. “Clasping the
buttons on the back of my dress would have been impossible on my own.”
As she sipped her tea, her entire
body warmed instantly and she began to perspire. I must be more nervous than I thought…
Ileana went on. “I greatly admire
your vocal talent, Giselle. I also admire your extraordinary beauty.
Unfortunately, I’m about to sabotage both of those exceptional attributes.”
Alarm pierced through Giselle. She
tried to protest but before she could speak a word, her throat burned as if
she’d ingested hot coals. She clawed at it while Ileana studied her the way a
snake zeroes in on its prey. Giselle tried to extend her hand, but her limbs
prickled with pain. In an instant, her skin shriveled dramatically and her
knuckles became hideously gnarled.
“Poor, unknowing girl.” Ileana stood over her. “I’m an
enchantress of the Dark Arts and I slipped
an accursed potion into the tea pot when you weren’t
looking.”
Giselle opened her mouth to scream,
but no sound escaped her lips. With great effort, she crawled to the mirror
like an invalid and stared at her reflection. My God! I’m a mute, old woman!
Heart stuttering, she managed to pull
herself to her feet. She flung open the door and entered the chapel. All heads jerked
in her direction. When she locked eyes with Lucian, he stared at her in
astonishment yet without an ounce of recognition.
All hope evaporated from her body as
he thundered, “Is that woman wearing my bride’s dress? Somebody find Giselle!”
“The hag must be playing a cruel
joke!” a guest accused.
“Escort her outside,” Lucian roared
to an usher.
A burly man took Giselle by the arm
and dragged her out the front door. Once he disappeared back into the church,
another strong arm grabbed her unexpectedly and thrust her inside an awaiting
carriage.
Giselle quaked with terror as she
stared at the enormous man hovering over her.
“I work for Ileana.” He grunted. “She
commands that you become her servant woman—until she grows tired of you and
decides to turn you back into your normal self.”
Giselle made another futile attempt
to cry out.
The henchman crossed his arms and
shook his head. “You won’t be talking, singing, or screaming for a very long
time, Miss Swenov. That should make for a quiet ride to Dantel House.”
About the Author
Although Marina Myles lives under the sunny skies of Arizona, she would reside in a historic manor house in foggy England if she had her way. Her love of books began as soon as she read her first fairy tale, and grew by leaps and bounds when she discovered Nancy Drew/Agatha Christie mysteries and rich, historical romances.
Dreaming of becoming a published author, she wrote her first ‘gothic’ story at age eleven. She went on to study creative writing at Southern Methodist University— where she received degrees in Communications and English Literature. During her time in Dallas, she had the unique experience of being a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader.
Now with her loyal Maltese close by, she relishes the hours she gets to escape into worlds filled with tortured heroes, strong heroines, and their fiery—but not easily attained—love affairs. She’s busy being a wife (to her Italian-born husband) and a mother (to her two beautiful daughters), but she is never too busy to hear from her amazing readers.
Represented by Louise Fury of The Bent Agency
Author Links: Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
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