Gypsy Rising

I'm not all that special, really. I'm sure there are a lot of girls with old gypsy blood who see the dead, have killer cults hunting their family, and turn into something that gets scary when they panic. Yep. I'm just an ordinary girl. I wish people would believe that. I've been labeled as one thing or another for most of my life: Death Girl. Crazy Gypsy Girl. Gothic Chick. Monster. It took my mother's death for me to finally start getting answers about what's really been going on. Unfortunately, most of the answers come from men...who aren't just men.

All I wanted was to go to a good college and finally get my life started. Maybe meet someone, get my degree, and do something I'm passionate about. I just wish someone had told me that my physics professor could feed on my emotions and desires, the guy who sits next to me in astrology club would be hiding his fangs, and my first friend would have a secret of his own. An incubus and a vampire should have been manageable—up until their bloodlines were mixed with an unpredictable race of Zodiac Shifters.

I'm not so different from most people. Like everyone else, I have life goals. Goal #1: Become a real girl instead of this invisible ghost thing I currently am. Goal #2: Convince the four men I've been haunting for the past five years to pick me to be their new toy after goal one is complete. Goal #3: Figure out who/what I am and why I can't remember anything past the five years I've been haunting this quad. Goal #4: Eat popcorn. See? Perfectly normal. Sort of. Gotta start small, after all. It's not like anyone else is perfect either.  

Waking up on my twenty-sixth birthday, I had hoped to be left alone for one day, just one. What I didn’t expect was to receive a life-changing gift from a stranger. Or for my body to be offered up as a rite of passage for my husband’s initiation into a sick and twisted cult. When powers I never knew existed burst from within me, my husband’s study is left in ruin, with one man dead at my feet, and me passed out tied to a desk. After the chaos, I’m whisked away to my new home.

Ten years ago, The Harlequin Boys broke my heart. I thought my life was complete with them at my side, the five of us against the world, having each other’s backs no matter what the cost. I’d fight for them until my dying breath. It’s just a shame they didn’t feel the same. Once upon a time, my imperfect world shone bright with the light of four boys I would have killed for. This is the story of how they destroyed me.