Here is a blurb from my February 2008 release: CURSES AND KISSES:
I rolled my eyes. "I don't want to." And I didn't have to. As I was turning away I was halted by Madame Xavier's short stubby fingers digging into my wrist. Damn the woman needed a manicure. Her nails were a thick yellow, peeling nightmare. My gaze traveled up her gnarly, age spotted hand, past the tattered sleeve of her gray silken robe to her shoulder. She had no neck to speak of and her round face perched on the collar of her lime green blouse. Her down turned mouth was covered in a flurry of crimson lipstick that collected in the vertical lines that surrounded her lips. The mole probably should have its own area code and her nose hooked at the end. The most disturbing feature on the woman were her eyes. Small, black and close together. I wondered if she had borrowed them from a raccoon or squirrel or some other beady eyed little creature.
"I sensed you had arrived," Madame Xavier said. I expected a gypsy sounding voice but instead all I got was your run of the mill Southern twang with a rasp from too many cigarettes. Yep, she'd look right at home in a doublewide with dark panels and avocado kitchen appliances.
I didn't know what to say. I stood there, staring that that mole and wondering if she thought it made her look like Miss Kitty. It didn't.
"I dreamt about you my dear. Come in the tent and I'll tell you about it."
I shook my head and tried to break free but her hand was strong for such an old broad. "Let go," I said and looked to Trudy. There'd be no help from her. Her face turned an ashy white and her eyes widened like saucers. "I don't want to," I said again.
"Valentine's Day," she muttered.
I stopped struggling and glared at her. "Yeah, today's Valentine's Day. So what?"
"Your Valentine's Days will be ruined for years to come."
"Cut it out," I shouted and the kids around me stopped their talking and stared. Some snickered, the cheerleaders folded their arms over their breasts and snarled and others pretended not to listen while they obviously listened.
"It's true. Until you meet your true love, your Valentine's Days are cursed.
"Bullshit," I muttered and freed myself of the wacky bitch. I turned to Trudy. "Did you pay her to say that? Because you know what? Tonight was supposed to be a special night for me and Harry. You think this nut job is going to ruin it for me, you're wrong."
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