Spicy Little Curses

by J.T. Geissinger

Oh, except for the fun fact that any woman who fell in love with a Rousseau man was doomed to a tragic death. So that was perfect. Nothing says “great idea” like falling for a man who might be my own personal grim reaper.

Had I been here in a past life? Had I walked these steps, touched these walls, smelled that strange, otherworldly incense? Had I once . . . loved him? Or maybe I had indigestion, which would make much more sense. “Careful!” he hissed again. “Slow down! And stay close!” Definitely indigestion.