The Hexed (Krewe of Hunters)

She suspected that her great-aunt would probably be busy sighing at the door of her own room—where Adam Harrison would be sleeping.

 

Devin lay next to Rocky, just glad to be with him—and so thankful that they’d survived dangers from both the past and the present. She threaded a strand of his hair through her fingers and asked him, “When you shot Gayle...don’t you usually shoot to kill when someone is shooting at you?”

 

“Yes,” he admitted, then was silent for a long moment. “But what I said—I meant. She wanted hell so badly, but I truly think that for someone like her, there’s no hell like the hell you can find on earth.” He pulled her into his arms. “And,” he added, “there’s nothing even close to the heaven you can find on earth, either.”

 

Devin smiled and touched her lips gently to his. “Mmm,” she said softly.

 

“Mmm what?” he whispered against her lips.

 

“I’m tasting heaven,” she told him.

 

Their kiss deepened.

 

Heaven.

 

They hadn’t exactly settled their future tonight.

 

But wherever it led, they would head there together.

 

*

 

Keep reading for an excerpt from THE CURSED by Heather Graham.

 

 

 

 

 

“Graham deftly weaves elements of mystery, the paranormal and romance into a tight plot that will keep the reader guessing at the true nature of the killer’s evil.”

 

—Publishers Weekly on The Unseen

 

If you loved The Hexed, be sure to also catch all the titles in the popular and dark Krewe of Hunters series by New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham. Available now wherever ebooks are sold!

 

The Cursed

 

The Night Is Forever

 

The Night Is Alive

 

The Night Is Watching

 

The Uninvited

 

The Unspoken

 

The Unholy

 

The Unseen

 

The Evil Inside

 

Sacred Evil

 

Heart of Evil

 

Phantom Evil Looking for more Heather Graham? Then don’t miss Waking the Dead and all the titles in the Cafferty & Quinn series.

 

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1

 

Hannah O’Brien walked into the large kitchen, ready to throw something. The past hour had been pure bedlam—guests hysterical and screaming, she herself completely baffled.

 

Of course she had offered to refund everyone’s money and suggest a beautiful chain hotel for them to check into.

 

She opened her mouth, not to scream, but to call out for immediate attention. Because she couldn’t think of anything else that might have happened except that one of her permanent residents had played a not-very-funny trick on her unsuspecting guests.

 

Melody Chandler was already there, leaning against the refrigerator in her beautiful Victorian glory, staring at her.

 

“What the hell was that?” Hannah demanded. “Did you bring a friend in? A dying man with his throat slit, carrying a knife and trying to kill my guests?”

 

“No!” Melody protested.

 

“That was unbelievable. I’ve never had guests up and leave at 4:00 a.m. before. Never. And I’ve never had to refund anyone’s money before, either.” Angrily, Hannah crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the ghost with whom she had shared this house for as long as she could remember. The original owner had been Hannah’s great-great-great grandfather on her father’s side, but she had actually inherited the house, already a B and B at that point, from her uncle. She had been his favorite niece, and she had loved him and the house. Sadly, he had died in his late forties from a sudden heart attack, and she had inherited the Siren all too soon. He had known how much she loved the place. She’d spent much of her time there with him, since her parents—who had lived a few blocks away on Simonton Street—had both worked.

 

She knew the house backward and forward—along with its ghosts.

 

She fought to control her temper. “Melody, a little spooking the guests is fun, but this time you and Hagen went too far. I’m fighting to keep this place, but I can’t do that if I don’t make a profit. You two just scared all our weekend guests away. And Shelly, the poor girl who saw you, was beyond terrified. And from what she described, I don’t blame her.”

 

“You did not listen to me, Hannah,” Melody protested, staring at her with wide eyes, pleading to be believed. “We did not do it. Hagen would never do anything like that. You know how squeamish he can be. And look at me. Do I look like a bleeding man with a knife? And who do I know? The same spirits you do! I do not know of a single spirit walking around Key West with a bleeding neck and a knife in his hand.”

 

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