Название: Up in Flames
Автор: Rita Herron
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Ужасы и Мистика
Серия: Mills & Boon Intrigue
isbn: 9781408962633
isbn:
Up in Flames
Rita Herron
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
For all the fans who have kept my
NIGHTHAWK ISLAND series alive—
hope you like the firestarter twist!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Prologue
Four-year-old Rosanna Redhill gripped the charm around her neck as she huddled in the corner of her kitchen. Granny Redhill said the gris-gris would protect her.
She should have given her puppy, Little Doodlebug, one, too.
Her daddy was on a tear tonight. He’d been drinking that brown, smelly stuff. Cussing and pacing. Throwing things. He’d already broken an ashtray and a lamp.
And he’d kicked Little Doodlebug so hard that he wasn’t moving.
She blotted at the tears on her face, and wished her mama was still here. But her mama had run away and hadn’t come back.
Her daddy stumbled to the wooden table, grabbed his cigarettes and lit one. The smell made her stomach hurt.
“Rosanna! Come out, come out wherever you are.”
She gulped and held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t find her. But he knelt down and stabbed her with his beady eyes. Eyes that looked yellow and evil.
“Why are you hiding from Daddy?” he sneered.
She willed Doodlebug to get up and help her, but he didn’t make a sound. Had her daddy killed him?
He reached for her, and she scrambled away and ran into the den. Wind rattled the windowpanes. The fire in the fireplace crackled and popped. Orange and red flames shot sparks into the dark room.
The big deer head on the wall glared down at her as if it was her fault he’d been shot. But her daddy had killed it, too.
She darted behind the big chair to hide. His feet pounded on the wood floor.
She closed her eyes, and in her mind saw Granny bent over her cauldron pot, the water boiling. Granny sprinkling in weird things like toad’s feet, snakeskin and lizard’s eyes. She could still smell the roots simmering. Hear Granny’s soothing voice telling her stories about witches and voodoo. Rosanna wished she had a magic spell right now to save her from her daddy.
Something wet plopped on her head. She opened her eyes and looked up. The deer head was crying.
And her daddy was looming over her, his cheeks bulging red. He was mad as a hornet. And when daddy got mad…
She clenched her hands together. Prayed he’d go away. But his fingers clamped around her wrist. There was no place to hide.
Then she saw the firepoker leaning against the hearth. If she had it, she could swing it at him. She reached out her hand. Clawed for it.
But she was too far away.
A chant her granny used to say echoed in her head. She whispered it into the darkness.
Suddenly the poker flew off the hearth and slammed into her father’s head. He bellowed and fell to his knees, blood dripping down his forehead.
“You’re a devil just like your granny,” he said. “I told your mama that. That’s why she run off. She was scared of you.” He staggered toward her. “Now, you’re gonna be sorry.”
He dug his fingernails into her skin, but a loud roar split the air. Then the deer head dropped from the wall and slammed against his skull.
A loud cracking, like the sound of thunder, followed, and she saw the bookcase falling. She screamed and jerked free just as it crashed down on top of her daddy’s legs. He bellowed like a wild animal. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.
She gulped back tears, saw the firepoker with blood on it and knew that she had caused it to move. Shaking all over, she laid her hand on the deer head. It was staring back at her, but it wasn’t crying anymore.
It was smiling.
Chapter One
Twenty-four years later, July 4—Savannah, Georgia
Detective Bradford Walsh was starving. Starved for food.
Starved for a woman.
Starved for a reprieve from the sweltering heat in Savannah, and a break from the recent СКАЧАТЬ