The Witch Of Stonecliff. Dawn Brown

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       Shadowy forces gather an unholy harvest

      Malicious whispers have long swirled around Stonecliff, Eleri James’s family estate—especially the eerie bog called The Devil’s Eye. But the bodies recently discovered on the property are no rumor. Twelve men pulled from the ooze, their throats slit, their flesh corrupted. Suspicion has perched on Eleri’s shoulder with the croak of a single syllable: witch. Now her only hope of evading prison is a man who could destroy her, body and soul.

      Kyle Peirs is a survivor. Two years ago, he awoke in the inky night on the shore of The Devil’s Eye, bleeding from his throat and barely alive. He’s returned to Stonecliff to learn the truth about his ordeal and lay his own demons to rest. He never expected to find an ally—and a lover—in the woman he branded a killer.

      Unless Kyle and Eleri can penetrate the evil surrounding The Devil’s Eye, they, too, will fall to the reaping….

      The Witch of Stonecliff

      Dawn Brown

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      Table of Contents

       I

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       II

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       III

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       IV

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Epilogue

      I

      Red agony burned across his throat—his first coherent thought as he emerged from unconsciousness.

      And someone was touching his hand.

      Fear spiked inside him. Memories, fuzzy and terrifying, played out behind his closed eyes.

       Fingers tangled in his hair.

       Blade pressed to his neck.

       Hot blood dribbling down his bare chest.

      They’d come for him, to finish what they’d started, and he was too weak to fight.

      He tried to shift back, to disentangle his fingers from the big hand holding on to him. The grip tightened. A groan crept up his torn throat, but no sound came and a fresh wave of heat burned across his neck.

      The hand grasping his fingers squeezed. “It’s alright, son. You’re safe.”

      His father’s rough voice penetrated the mind-numbing panic. He opened his eyes, meeting his father’s light blue gaze. Relief rolled over him and warm moisture sprang to his eyes.

      He never thought he’d see his father again.

      He blinked away the tears and shifted his gaze while he struggled for control. He was in a hospital room, the walls pale yellow, bits of furniture cheap and utilitarian. Through the window, the sky was dark. How much time had passed since he’d woken next to the СКАЧАТЬ