Curse of Brandon Lupinus

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An Excerpt From: CURSE OF BRANDON LUPINUS

Copyright ? SHELLEY MUNRO, 2006.

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.

Brandon drifted up the stairs, excitement building
inside him. Curiosity. Another owner for his country estate. Mostly, he
didn?t care. He?d lost count of the owners over the years, but he?d never
felt this burgeoning anticipation before. At the top of the stairs he
turned left toward the main chambers. The doors stood open and the stench
of paint offended his nose. The woman was changing the interior. Again. Not
that it made much difference with the hodgepodge of styles inflicted by
previous owners, including his father. She would leave and another would
come. He eased through the walls of each chamber without impediment, taking
in her progress before returning to the passageway.

The woman?s presence filled the air with energy. It
sizzled through his body, drawing him in. Heady. Intoxicating. Unheard of
and unnerving. Brandon paused outside the stout oak door leading to the
master bedroom. His heart thumped. He swallowed and felt the muscles in his
throat contract. He?felt. After hundreds of years walking alone, cursed by
the old witch, he felt something other than cold, other than ice. Strange.
Perhaps it was an age thing and he was gaining power. Or not. The words of
the curse echoed through his mind. Walk the ghostly world. Howl at the
moon. Alone Brandon Lupinus until need forces you to act as a decent man
should.

He had puzzled over the meaning, walking the ghostly
void alone ever since the words had past the witch?s lips. Neither wolf nor
ghost but a mixture, forced to live in solitary while his father passed
through the heavenly gates to live in peaceful paradise.

A small cry jerked him from memories. Brandon burst
through the wooden door, curiosity and a trace of fear for the woman
lending him speed. One look told him it was naught but a dream causing her
to cry out. He drifted up to the four-poster bed and gazed down at her
sleep-flushed face. Her dark brown hair was cut short like a lad?s. Her
face was browned from the sun yet it, along with the tiny sun-kissed spots
on her face, gave her a pixyish charm. A man would want to touch each of
the speckles with his mouth. Explore. Brandon reached out to brush ghostly
fingers across her cheekbone, wishing more than anything to feel the silky
skin of a woman again. Just once. His chest lifted and fell in a ghostly
sigh. Impossible since ghosts didn?t feel anything but cold. He lowered his
fingers anyway, delicately brushing a tiny freckle. A flare of warmth burst
up his arm without warning. Instead of the expected chill, he savored the
heat from her skin. She made a soft mewing sound and flung up her arm,
hitting his shoulder before it passed through him.

By God?s teeth! He?d felt that too. Astonished, he
stared at the woman. She?d dislodged the covers
and he could see her tanned throat and chest. The scanty covering she wore
hid nothing of her upper body, clinging in a way that made him sigh again.
Elsa? Brandon cursed under his breath. Aye, stupidity that had been and now
he paid the price.