Showing posts with label Mangus Blackwell series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mangus Blackwell series. Show all posts
Damned by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor
Series: A Mangus Blackwell Novel: Book 1
Author: Alexandrea Weis with Lucas Astor
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release: October 3, 2017
Over a hundred years after the death of Magnus Blackwell, Altmover Manor sits abandoned.
Lexie Arden and her fiancé, Will Bennet, are determined to rescue the neglected Mount Desert Island landmark. They want to make Altmover Manor their home. But Magnus has other plans.
A spirit bound to his former residence, Magnus finds himself inexplicably drawn to the young woman. She has a supernatural gift; a gift Magnus wants to exploit.
As Lexie and Will settle in, secrets from Magnus’s past begin to surface. Compelled to learn all she can about the former owner, Lexie becomes immersed in a world of voodoo, curses, and the whereabouts of a mysterious dragon cane.
Magnus’s crimes won’t be so easily forgotten, and what Lexie unearths is going to change the future … for everyone.
Bound to a spirit with a sinister history, a woman with a dark power will battle to rule the realm of the dead…
A thin layer of mist covered the foyer floor as the lotus sconces glowed with an eerie light. Lexie wore a formal white gown, woven with lace and gold ribbons. The dress harkened back to a long-ago era. She didn’t recall putting on the outfit or where she had gotten it.
She ran her hands ran over the smooth silk and played with the lace on her sleeves.
“This is weird.”
The grand chandelier came to life, filling the foyer with its bright light. Ethereal music wafted through the house. Lexie swore she recognized the piece—a waltz. The music got louder; embedded in the notes was the distant murmur of conversation and glasses tinkling.
Lexie moved toward the sounds, stopping along the way to admire the home. The dull and drab foyer, once ravaged by time, blossomed before her as if magically restored. The golden wallpaper glistened in the candlelight, and the tears in the material came together as the dusty hardwood floors took on a dazzling shine. The chandelier appeared new, its chain covered with red velvet rope.
She made her way to the staircase where the red dragon’s eyes at the base of the banister glowed. Her fingers caressed the colored glass, and she raised her head to the massive chandelier. The light fixture swayed.
Terrified, Lexie took off running down the hallway. Her flight halted as long, flowing, multi-colored gowns, intermingled with black tuxedos with long tails, sprung up around her. Couples caught up in the frenzy of the waltz kept time with the music, but these dancers had no hands and no heads. They were nothing more than costumes inhabited by ghosts.
“They’ve outdone themselves. Quite an event,” a haughty man’s voice came from the flurry of twirling clothes.
“Have you seen Katherine’s dress?” a woman twittered. “He imported it from Paris for their anniversary.”
Lexie carefully maneuvered through the swirling apparel, anxious not to disturb them.
“I never thought they’d last the year,” another man said. “They’re so ill-suited.”
“Well, I’ve discovered the most scandalous things about Magnus Blackwell and the lurid things he likes to do with women,” a woman remarked. “Do you think they’re true?”
Eager to get away from the creepy dancing garments, Lexie ducked into the closest room. She slid inside a set of shiny double oak doors and closed them behind her. Resting her pounding head against the wood, she relaxed.
“This is a bad dream. Nothing more.”
When she turned from the doors, Lexie had somehow arrived in the living room. But unlike before, the room had rich furniture, the polished paneling gleamed, and an oriental carpet with a green dragon graced the center of the parquet floor.
By the entrance, she toed the same spot where she’d found the deep gouge, but it wasn’t there.
The bloom of a roaring fire in the hearth commanded her attention, drawing her gaze to Magnus Blackwell’s portrait. Lexie stared at the painting. Something changed with the colors. They morphed and moved as if taking on a shape.
A voice emanated from inside the painting; a man’s voice.
“I’ve been waiting for you, dear girl.”
From New Orleans, Alexandrea Weis was raised in the motion picture industry and began writing stories at the age of eight. In college she studied nursing and went on to teach at a local university. After several years in the medical field, she decided to pick up the pen once again and began her first novel, To My Senses. Since that time she has published many novels. Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her award-winning books, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story memorable. Her work has been critically acclaimed and has been continually growing in popularity. 
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