From the Back Cover
New York Times bestselling author Ronda Thomspon captivates readers in her darkly seductive Regency werewolf romance series, The Wild Wulfs of London…
THE CURSED ONE
Wed and widowed in one day, stunning socialite Amelia Sinclair's honeymoon is anything but typical. Then again, neither is Amelia--rebellious and impulsive, marrying Robert Collingsworth was the one sensible thing she ever did. Now he's dead and she must escape the vicious creatures stalking her--even if it means relying on a stranger. Well, maybe not a complete stranger. Amelia first glimpsed Gabriel Wulf years ago on the busy streets of London; since then he has haunted her dreams. But in the flesh, Gabriel is much more tantalizing than she ever dreamt, and much more complicated…
Gabriel Wulf, the strong one, the sensible one--the family, and the curse that plagues them, are his only priorities; there was little time for women and none for love. Now, he must protect an enticing beauty--and not just from the dangers that prowl the woods around them. Gabriel has secrets, dark ones he's sure Amelia must never know and could never understand. But she has already awakened his heart...and the beast within. Will Amelia be the key to his salvation, or the architect of her own demise?
"A deliciously dark world."--Romantic Times BOOKreviews on The Dark One
About the Author
People often ask RONDA THOMPSON what inspires her to write about werewolves. So far, the only answer she has come up with is that she loves dogs and she’s been known to howl at the moon. People also wonder how a former rodeo queen and graduate student from the school of hard knocks managed to end up becoming a bestselling romance author. Unlike her wild tequila nights spent in honkey-tonks across Texas, Ronda has wanted to be a writer from the time she could pick up a pencil and write her name.
A New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Ronda lives in the great state of Texas with her husband and two children, where the stars shine brightly down upon her country abode and she can howl at the moon without the neighbors calling the police. She is currently at work on her next novel.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Cursed One, The
CHAPTER ONECOLLINGSWORTH MANOR, ENGLAND, 1821Her husband was going to kill her. The thought struck Lady Amelia Sinclair Collingsworth about the time Lord Collingsworth's hands closed around her throat. But his usually soft hands did not feel like hands in the darkness. They felt like ... claws. It was her wedding night, and Amelia's shy husband was acting neither shy nor like the gentleman she had married early that morning in London. What had gotten into him?"Robert, you're hurting me!" she gasped, pinned beneath him on the marriage bed where she had planned to lose her innocence, not her life.Her bridegroom laughed. Not a normal-sounding one. His voice was deep and garbled, as if he had a throat full of rocks. The feel of his clawlike fingers moved down her neck, ripped the nightgown she wore open from neckline to waist. Amelia screamed, struggling beneath his weight, which was surprisingly heavy for a man her father had once referred to as "frail looking.""Robert, please!" she begged. "You are frightening me!"The laugh again. The one that rose hackles on the back of her neck. "Robert is not here," he rasped.What did he mean by that? Was Amelia having a nightmare? Maybe she would wake in a moment and find herself in her parents' home in London. Maybe she had not married that morning in front of a great number of London's upper crust. Maybe she had not journeyed to Robert's country estate with him for a short honeymoon before they were to travel abroad for an extended celebration of their nuptials."I'm dreaming," Amelia whispered, trying to reassure herself. "I will wake in a moment."Robert barked a short laugh and rolled off of her. Amelia could breathe again. There were sounds of ripping cloth and she thought Robert might now be tearing at his own nightshirt. Dream or not, the hammering of Amelia's heart inside of her chest, the sting of scratches upon her neck, felt real. Every instinct she possessed cried out for her to run ... while she still could.She rolled toward the edge of the bed, thinking to make her escape. Bony fingers yanked her back, then Robert was on top of her ... only he was naked ... and his skin did not feel like skin. It felt like fur.Amelia formed her nails into claws and raked his eyes. Robert howled like a wounded animal. She pushed with all her strength and scrambled from beneath him. Rolling, Amelia landed with a thud upon the floor. She quickly crawled away from the bed. For modesty's sake, which she didn't have much of, Robert had insisted the lamps remain unlit. The darkness was as heavy as a blanket. Where was the door?"Bitch!"The garbled hiss sent chills up Amelia's spine and froze her in her tracks. She was afraid to move. Afraidhe'd know her location. Groping around on the floor, her hand met with the leg of a piece of furniture. A secretary, she recalled, having only seen Robert's adjoining room earlier when she'd come upstairs for a short nap before dinner.Slowly Amelia rose to her knees. She searched the desktop until her fingers grasped something cold and thin. Before she had time to identify the object, she was jerked back and slammed against the hardwood floor."You are mine now."Although she couldn't see Robert in the darkness, Amelia felt him looming over her. His breath was fetid, like the breath of an animal that ate raw meat. Her head hurt where she had struck the floor. Her neck stung from the scratches. Robert shoved her gown up and forced her knees apart. The feel of his smooth, sharp claws against her thighs churned the bile in her stomach.Now this man, this thing, who couldn't be Robert, would defile her. Amelia's mother had told her that she must meekly submit to Robert on their wedding night. That she must do all that he asked of her. Like hell she would. Clutching the thin, cold object in her hand, she brought it up and struck out.There was a sound, a sound that reminded her of Cook stabbing a knife into raw mutton. Robert suddenly howled again, then toppled backward off of her. Heart still hammering, Amelia flipped onto her belly and crawled away. She expected the clawlike hands to grab her foot at any moment, expected Robert would kill her in his wounded rage. Instead, the door to her adjoining suite suddenly crashed open.Amelia had left a candle burning in her room. The soft glow outlined the silhouette of a man--a man nearly as tall as a tree and built like one. Candlelight danced within the strands of his golden hair. Now Amelia knew she must be dreaming. She'd dreamed of this man often."What the bloody hell is going on?" he demanded.Odd. He had never spoken in her dreams before. If he had, she would have conjured just the voice he spoke with now. Deep, low, disturbingly sensual. Only Lord Gabriel Wulf would have a voice like that. Only he would come crashing through her nightmares to save her. But of course he couldn't really be here. This couldn't really be happening. She giggled at her own imagination, but she couldn't ignore the hysterical edge it held."Who's there?" he asked.Would he converse with her if she answered? Her dream had grown more absurd by the moment. "Lady Amelia," she answered. "Collingsworth," she added, then stifled another giggle. "Or I was. I've just killed my husband."An awkward pause followed her statement. The silhouette stepped farther into the room. Amelia noticed the dark shape of a pistol clutched in his hand. Oh, good grief. Would he shoot her now? Would the nightmare turn from Robert trying to kill her to Gabriel Wulf becoming the murderer?"Where is Lord Collingsworth?"Amelia supposed even in a dream she should answer a man carrying a weapon. "There, on the floor beside the bed." If she was dreaming, and she must be, thenightmare was much too vivid. She swore she felt blood trickling down her neck. "Robert ... he tried to hurt me. He is ... not himself."Why she bothered to explain anything when nothing about her dream made one whit of sense Amelia did not know. But perhaps on a deeper level she did understand why she would dream that her husband of one day had become a monster and why Lord Gabriel Wulf had appeared to save her. Society was the true monster.Doing what had been expected of her came with a punishment. Gabriel Wulf represented the rebellious side of her nature. He represented freedom."Robert is not here."That he would repeat the very words Robert had rasped raised the hair on her arms. More than a reminder of earlier events unnerved her. If Robert was not there, where was he?A dark shape suddenly loomed up behind Amelia's blond angel. A flash of silver shone in the darkness. The object moved downward in a stabbing motion, straight into Gabriel Wulf's shoulder. There were sounds of a scuffle. A pistol fired. Amelia screamed and closed her eyes, covering her ears with her hands. She screamed again when someone touched her."Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."How could a man possess a voice that was darkly sensual and yet soothing at the same time? One couldn't. Not unless he was a figment of her imagination. Amelia grasped that tiny shred of sanity and held it to her. She should wake now. Wake before she threw herself into his arms. Before comfort became something else. But she did not wake, nor did she throw herselfat Lord Gabriel Wulf. The door to Robert's room suddenly creaked open. A tiny flame flickered there."My lady?" a female voice called. "I heard a shot. What is happening?"Eyes round with fright, a slim figure hovered in the doorway. Amelia couldn't recall the young servant's name. She had been the only one to greet Amelia and Robert when they'd arrived at Collingsworth Manor. The girl, willow thin and around Amelia's height, wore a worn dress, an apron, and a cap upon her head, covering the entirety of her hair. Amelia had judged her to be around fifteen and certainly too young to take on the responsibilities she had at Collingsworth Manor.Robert had been more than a little distressed to learn all of his servants but this girl were gone. Only one man had been tending the stable. Her husband had told Amelia to go upstairs and rest while he got to the heart of the matter. But later, when the girl had come to fetch Amelia for supper, Robert had acted differently. He hadn't wanted to discuss what he had learned."My lady?" the girl called again."Bring the light over here, girl!" Gabriel Wulf ordered. "Quickly!"As if from a long distance, Amelia saw the flicking flame of the candle move closer. The girl bent beside her, the candle casting an eerie glow around the dark room. Amelia's gaze sought out Gabriel Wulf. She'd once seen him riding down the streets of London with his older brother, Lord Armond Wulf. At the time she had thought Gabriel Wulf was the most handsome man she had ever seen ... and he still was.It was him all right. She might be gawking like a milkmaid, but he was busy studying her form, probably looking for signs of injury, possibly looking at her breasts, which had no doubt spilled from the front of her torn nightgown. He gently touched her neck, and Amelia winced. His gaze lifted and met hers. In the dim candlelight, his eyes widened a fraction."You," he said softly, although she had no idea what that meant.Amelia's head began to spin. Her vision blurred. Darkness closed in on her, and Gabriel Wulf's face became farther and farther away. She had never fainted in her life, but she realized that was exactly what she was getting ready to do.
Lord Gabriel Wulf gathered the unconscious woman in his arms and rose. If he didn't have adrenaline racing through his blood like wildfire at the moment, he might have been more conscious of the stab wound to his shoulder and the even more ser...
