With my father a ghost, my sister a psychic, my great-grandmother a vengeful Apache witch and my mother on death row, I'm no stranger to the supernatural--or the struggle between good and evil.
When I painted his image on canvas--this dark-winged warrior--I imagined an angel, but he's far more. Dark. Delicious. Sinfully sexy...and cursed. My painting released him from a spell, but the transformation was incomplete. Now he lingers in twilight, half man, half raven. If I don't find a certain talisman before the curse comes full circle, he'll suffer eternally. I cannot let that happen....