Witch Hunter
He trusts no one. She trusts himWhen a name appears on Dave Carter’s skin, he goes hunting. It’s his job to find and kill witches who transgress natural law. He can’t believe that sweet, naive empath Sully Timmerman is the murderer he’s seeking. Is she dangerous, in danger, or both? Dave wants to protect her, but he can’t protect his own heart. And he might not even want to…
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He trusts no one. She trusts him.
When a name appears on Dave Carterâs skin, he goes hunting. Itâs his job to find and kill witches who transgress natural law. He canât believe that sweet, naive empath Sully Timmerman is the murderer heâs seeking. Is she dangerous, in danger, or both? Dave wants to protect her, but he canât protect his own heart. And he might not even want toâ¦
SHANNON CURTIS grew up picnicking in graveyards (long story) and reading by torchlight, and has worked in various roles, such as office admin manager, logistics supervisor and betting agent, to mention a few. Her first loveâafter reading, and her husbandâis writing, and she writes romantic suspense, paranormal and contemporary romance. From faeries to cowboys, military men to business tycoons, she loves crafting stories of thrills, chills, kills and kisses. She divides her time between being an office administrator for the Romance Writers of Australia and creating spellbinding tales of mischief, mayhem and the occasional murder. She lives in Sydney, Australia, with her best-friend husband, three children, a woolly dog and a very disdainful cat. Shannon can be found lurking on Twitter, @2bshannoncurtis, and Facebook, or you can email her at [email protected]âshe loves hearing from readers. Likeâ¦LOVES it. Disturbingly so.
ISBN: 978-1-474-08217-4
WITCH HUNTER
© 2018 Shannon Curtis
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a âLicensed Deviceâ) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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This book is dedicated to all the readers who have
supported me by reading this series. You have no idea how meaningful and humbling your consideration and time have meant to me.
And thank you to Coleen, for the inspiration that has
become Dave Carter, tattoo artist and witch hunter.
Contents
âWhy do you have so many tattoos?â
Dave lifted the tip of his needle from his clientâs inner wrist and gently dabbed at the skin. The woman was looking up at the ceiling, and she was exhaling slowly through her lips, as though trying not to flinch. Scream. Pee. Puke. Whatever.
âIâm a tattoo artist. Perks of the job.â He eyed the intricate linework heâd inked onto her wrist. He just needed to close the top of the loop of one twist of the knot, and he was finished.
He dabbed at the skin again. He was only doing a simple line tattoo for this woman. It was her first tattoo, and she didnât think she could stand a lot of shading. He had to agree. The whole time sheâd breathed as though she was in a Lamaze class. He was surprised she hadnât hyperventilated.
âI canât quite make it out...?â Her tone was raised in query.
He leaned forward, gently pressing his foot on the pedal, and the woman snapped her gaze from the mark on his arm to the ceiling again. The skin on his left breast itched.
Damn.
âI can, and thatâs what matters,â he said, smiling at the woman as he carefully pressed the needle against her skin. He focused intently, despite the itch that was getting more annoyingâand bound to become more so.
