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In the Fox's Den of Iniquity
In the Fox's Den of Iniquity
In the Fox's Den of Iniquity
Ebook67 pages54 minutes

In the Fox's Den of Iniquity

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England 1853 – Cyprian Fox, Marquis of Foxglove, has inherited the family curse passed down through generations. His ancestor was cursed by a witch and now his male descendants live as fox in daylight and as man at nightfall. When he meets the captivating Harper Greer Avery, the witch’s descendant, he hopes that she possesses a reversal to the curse before it is too late. But can he trust her?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 26, 2013
ISBN9781301301256
In the Fox's Den of Iniquity
Author

Patricia Catacalos

I hold a BA in Theatre from Seton Hill University and a MA in Theatre from the University of Denver. Years ago, when still single, I acted in and directed plays in the Philadelphia area but suffered the fate of many artists, struggling financially. So I entered a career in sales. But, my creative spirit needed to express itself and several years, ago, I started writing historical romances. I discovered that writing historical romances is my passion. I love weaving historical personalities into my plot, interacting with my fictional characters. Recently, I began writing historical mysteries/intrigue and again, love the aspect of interspersing historical fact and personalities into my story line.I am married to a loving and supportive man with a Greek heritage (which influenced a couple of my novels) and we live in southern New Jersey.

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    In the Fox's Den of Iniquity - Patricia Catacalos

    In the Fox’s Den of Iniquity

    Patricia Catacalos

    Copyright © 2013 by Patricia Catacalos

    Smashwords edition

    License notice: All rights reserved.

    Copyright © 2013 by Patricia Catacalos

    All characters in this book, except historical personalities, have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention.

    Chapter One

    England 1853

    He awoke on the floor, naked, as he always did just as the final rays of the setting sun were cloaking him in iridescent light. He blinked his eyes open, instantly recognizing his opulent surroundings and the elderly man looming over him. He lay on his left side in a fetal position, feeling every aching bone and every sore muscle in his nude body.

    The elderly servant handed the naked man a satin robe which he readily accepted and donned as he slowly and achingly rose to his bare feet, nodding a silent thank you to the man stooped with age.

    Quickly, he loped the belt into a knot as he crossed to the table positioned beneath a stained-glass window depicting a flower commonly known as the foxglove. He grabbed the bread from its plate and began to stuff the sustenance into his mouth as if he were a starving man. He grasped the glass of water and gulped it down between bites of food.

    Ye still do not partake of the rodents aplenty in the woodlands, do ye, m’ Lord?

    "I may be cursed to roam the fields and woodlands as a carnivorous animal in the daylight, but I have enough presence of mind not to act the part of carnivore by consuming filthy rodents carrying diseases," the lord sneered before biting a large chuck of cheese and chewing it, ravenously.

    Yes, m’ lord, I do agree it is best to avoid eating while in your other form. It just saddens me to see ye so famished once the transformation has taken place and ye have returned to your humanness.

    The lord plopped onto the nearest chair as he devoured the last of the bread. Forgive me, Manfred, I did not mean to snap. My voracious hunger has caused my irritability.

    Yes, m’ Lord, I quite understand. I shall order your bath prepared.

    Yes, please do so, Manfred. I want and need a hot bath to wash off the animal scent I can still detect on my person.

    The loyal servant turned toward the bedchamber door, intending to exit but paused, momentarily, before querying, Did the hounds pick up on your scent, m’ Lord, and pursue ye?

    The lord sighed, forlornly. Luckily, they did not. But the season of fox hunting is long and for me, perilous.

    Manfred nodded his agreement before slipping out of the room.

    The lord looked up at the ancestral portrait hanging to the left of his chair and his green eyes narrowed into slits. Were you alive today and not already cursed, I would curse you myself for passing the witch’s spell onto your descendants…onto me. He then lifted his wineglass filled with merlot as if to toast the image of his ancestor but growled instead, May you burn in Perdition!

    The day was glorious, and she could not help but marvel at nature’s beauty surrounding her. She was embraced by verdant woodlands alive with chirping birds, singing songs from branches laden with multi-colored leaves, and the late afternoon sun, shining through the trees, kissed the ground with dappled patterns. It was her favorite time of year when all was resplendent in autumn colors.

    She sighed, audibly, as she wished she was partaking of a favorite pastime, hiking or sitting with her back against a tree trunk, reading a book beneath a canopy of golden and crimson leaves. She would prefer almost any other activity rather than doing that which pleased her grandfather but so displeased her.

    She turned her head in the direction of the barking hounds no doubt responding to the scent of their prey. Oh, how she detested the persistent baying of the fox hounds in pursuit of the tiny creature most likely running in terror from its pursuers. But her grandfather had insisted that she follow the huntsmen and since she was his guest for the week, she could not politely refuse without offending him. And since she was an expert horsewoman, she

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