In the high desert pueblo, the old beliefs have never died. And when witchcraft can be the only explanation for murder, Luke, Tom and Rico, former renegades, must step up to save their people and the women they love.
Part 1: Luke
In the first novella of the series, Luke Cordova is devastated when the man who saved him from life as an outcast is murdered. He’s determined to find out who killed his uncle Joe Cordova. At first he will accept no help from Ashley Donaldson, a woman who was born on the pueblo and came back to find her roots. But she’s just as strong willed as Luke and just as beholding to Joe, and when the two of them unite to track a killer with magic powers, the heat that’s been smoldering between ignites into flames.
Renegade Magic: Luke…Tom…Rico…each of these compelling stories ends with an HEA for the hero and heroine. But only the full set will finally get to the bottom of the murder mystery. Be sure to read them all!
In the darkness, the witch stood outside Joe Cordova’s isolated desert house, looking through the lighted windows, watching the artist’s shuffling gait as he walked from his studio to the bedroom.
“You’ve made a mistake, old man. You should have left well enough alone. And don’t count on Ashley Donaldson or your nephew, Luke, to save you.”
As though he heard the words, the artist went stock-still and stared into the darkness beyond the house. A flash of fear contorted his face. Then he firmed his features and went back to what he had been doing—getting ready for an important art show in Santa Fe.
But he was never going to arrive. He was going to die. By his own hand, if possible. So that the only evidence would be of his own demented state.
In a low voice the witch began to chant—ancient words that had served him well over the years.
Lightning crackled across the velvet sky and wind stirred the piñons. In the desert, a coyote howled.
“Help me, brother. Lend me your cunning,” the witch whispered, moving past a tall cactus toward the house.
Inside, the artist stopped again. This time when he raised his head, he couldn’t wipe away the fear.
“Go away,” he called into the darkness. “Leave me alone.”
The witch answered with a burst of mental energy—of defiance. Of anger. Of power.
And the man staggered back, throwing his hands in front of his face. As though flesh and blood could protect him.
The witch spewed forth another burst of anger and the traitor screamed in pain and terror.