Robot Check. Enter the characters you see below. Sorry, we just need to make sure you're not a robot. For best results, please make sure your browser is accepting cookies. Magic in the Wind (Drake Sisters Series #1) by Christine Feehan . Even the wind seems to whisper her name—a reverie so powerfully suggestive that it carries the curious Damon to Sarah’s clifftop home, and seeks to shelter him there. But Damon has not arrived alone. A killer has tracked him to Sea Haven, and into the shadows of Drake House. But Sarah has her own secrets, and danger—as well as a desire more urgent than either has ever known—is just a whisper away. ISBN: 0- 4. 25- 2. X Chapter One . Damon Wilder couldn't decide which. He'd been hearing the same small town gossip for several hours and it was always said in the same hushed tones. He hated to admit to curiosity and he wasn't about to stoop to asking, not after he had made such a point of insisting on absolute privacy since he arrived last month. He heard it as he lingered in the small bakery. The name shouldn't carry mystery, but it did. He knew from experience the people in the sleepy little coastal town were not easily impressed. No amount of money, fame, or title earned one deference. Everyone was treated the same from the poorest to the richest and there seemed to be no prejudice against religion or any other preferences. It was why he had chosen the town. A man could be anybody here and no one cared. He'd never once caught a glimpse of the mysterious Sarah. But he'd heard she once climbed the sheer cliffs above the sea to rescue a dog. Magic In The Wind Drake Sisters 1 Christine Feehan Magic In The Wind Drake Sisters 1 Christine. Christine Feehan is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Carpathian novels, the GhostWalker novels, the Leopard novels, the Sea Haven novels. Magic in the Wind Sea Haven: Drake Sisters Series Book 1. Reviews of the Magic in the Wind Until now regarding the publication we've Magic in the Wind opinions users haven't however quit their particular overview of the experience, or otherwise make out the print but. Buy Magic in the Wind (Drake Sisters, Book 1) on Amazon.com FREE SHIPPING on qualified orders Amazon Try Prime Books. This novella by Christine Feehan is another in a great line of extraordinary literary prowess. Serie Dark Saga/Il principe vampiro “Attrazione fatale” –. Excerpted from Magic In the Wind by Christine Feehan Copyright . Excerpted by permission. He'd seen those crumbling cliffs and no one could climb them. He found himself smiling at the idea of anyone attempting such an impossible feat and few things amused him or intrigued him. Damon decided he needed a few things before he went home. He hadn't been in the store for more than two minutes when he heard it again. It usually drove him crazy to have to wait, but this time he lingered by the bread rack in the hope of learning more of the mysterious Sarah who had finally returned. She came right into the store as real as you please and bought a ton of groceries. She was back at the cliff house she said. She didn't say anything about the others, but if one shows up the others aren't far behind. Everyone always annoyed the hell out of him. He thought moving to a small town would allow him to find a way to get along to some extent but people were just plain idiots. Of course Sarah was still Sarah. Who the hell else would she be? He let his breath out in a rush of impatience. Sarah was probably the only one with a brain within a fifty- mile radius so they thought she was different. You wouldn't want me to pry into Sarah's business, now would you dear. Inez made it her life's work to pry into everyone's business. Why should the absent Sarah be excluded? He's a dear, sweet man, but he sometimes makes things up. Damon waited for lightning to strike Inez for her blatant lie, but nothing happened. The worst of it was, Damon wanted to know what Old Mars had said about Sarah, even if it was a blatant lie. And that really irritated him. Damon sighed heavily, wanting to shake the woman. He was wedged in so tight and no one could get to him, he'd slipped down so far. The tide was coming in. Sarah wouldn't kill anything. If they weren't going to say anything worth hearing, he was going to get the hell out of there before Inez turned her spotlight on him. He plunked his groceries down on the counter and looked as bored as he could manage. Get Instant Access to free Read PDF Magic In The Wind Drake Sisters 1 Christine Feehan at Our Ebooks Unlimited Database 1/2 Magic In The Wind Drake Sisters 1 Christine Feehan Magic In The Wind Drake Sisters 1 Christine Feehan. Christine King in California). Dark Magic (July 2000). Magic in the Wind (July 2003). Have you met Trudy Garret? Trudy is a wonderful woman, a native of our town. She works over at the Salt Bar and Grill. Have you ever been there to eat yet? The salmon is very good. They'd all made up their minds about him, making up the history he refused to provide. He felt a little sorry for the returning Sarah. They were making up things about her as well. He never gave anyone an opening for conversation. He wanted to be left alone. Damn Sarah for being so mysterious. It's grown over quite wild around the house, but there's a path leading to the old lighthouse. I was walking up there and with all the wild growth, I expected the house to be in bad shape, dilapidated like most of the abandoned homes around here, but it was in beautiful condition. I'd like to know what preservatives were used. I don't know what they use in the paint, but it does weather well. No one lurks around that house. That house is in remarkable condition. In fact, it looks newly built. I'm curious as to what was used. I'd like to preserve my house in the same way. There's no sign of damage from the sea, from age or even insects. She rang up his groceries in remarkable time without saying another word. Leaning heavily on his cane he turned to Trudy. Inez made some kind of noise he couldn't identify. Disgusted, Damon turned on his heel and stalked out. Ever since the first whisper of Sarah's name he had been unsettled. There was something unfamiliar growing inside of him. He muttered a curse under his breath at the absent Sarah. He had no interest in the woman the townspeople gossiped about. Sarah might not walk on water but her house was a mystery. He saw no reason why he shouldn't pay her a neighborly visit and ask what preservatives were used in the wood to achieve the nearly impossible results. Moving to the tiny town on the coast was his last effort to hang onto life. He had no idea how he was going to do it, or why he had chosen this particular town with all its resident eccentrics, but he had been drawn here. Nothing else would do. He had stepped on the rich soil and knew either this place would be home or he had none. It was hell trying to fit in, but the sea soothed him and the long walks over million year old rocks and cliffs occupied his mind. The knowledge that this town, this place, was his last stand had been so strong he had actually purchased a house. His home was one of the few things that gave him pleasure. He loved the working on it. He could lose himself in the artistry of reshaping a room to suit his exact needs. For hours the work occupied him so nothing else could invade his brain and he was at peace for a time. The one that had an unobstructed view of the house on the cliff. Damon had spent more hours than he cared to think about staring up at the dark silent windows and the balconies and battlements. It was a unique house from another century, another time and place. There were lights on for the first time. The windows shone a bright welcome. He needed to sit and rest, not go traipsing around the countryside. Damon stared at the house, drawn to the warmth of it. It seemed almost alive, begging him to come closer. He went outside onto his deck, intending to sit in the chair and enjoy his view of the sea. Instead he found himself limping his way steadily up the path toward the cliffs. It was nearly a compulsion. The path was narrow and steep and rocky in places, almost no more than a deer trail and overgrown at that. His cane slipped on the pebbles and twice he nearly fell. He was swearing by the time he made it to the edge of the private property. Damon had been there not two days before, walking around the house and the grounds. It had been wildly overgrown, the bushes high and weeds everywhere. The shrubbery and trees had drooped with winter darkness on the leaves. A noticeable absence of sound had given the place an eerie, creepy feeling. Now there were flowers as if everything had burst into blossom overnight. A riot of color met his eyes, a carpet of grass was beneath his feet. The gate was open as if in welcome. He could hear the insects buzzing, the sound of frogs calling merrily back and forth as if spring had come instantly. Everything seemed to be welcoming him. A sense of peace began to steal into his heart. A part of him wanted to sit on one of the inviting benches and soak in the atmosphere. He'd never seen such towering plants. Damon started up the pathway, noting every single weed was gone. Stepping stones led the way to the house. Each round of stone held a meticulously carved symbol. Great care had been taken to etch the symbol deep into the stone. Damon leaned down to feel the highly polished work. He admired the craftsmanship and detail. The artisans in the small town all had that trait, one he greatly respected. It was then he heard the birds and looked around him. They were everywhere, all kinds of birds, flitting from tree to tree, a flutter of wings overhead. Squirrels chattered as they rushed from branch to branch. The sun was sinking over the ocean, turning the skyline into bright colors of pink and orange and red. The fog was on the far horizon, meeting the sea to give the impression of an island in the clouds. Damon had never seen anything so beautiful. He simply stood there, leaning on his cane and staring in wonder at the transformation around him. One was soft and melodious. He couldn't catch the words but the tone worked its way through his skin into his very bones. Into his vital organs. He moved closer, drawn by the sound and immediately saw two dogs on the front porch. Both were watching him alertly, heads down, hair up, neither making a sound. He could hear the heartbreaking sound. The melodious voice soothed. Damon shifted his weight and took a two- handed grip on his cane. If he had to use it as a weapon, he'd have more leverage. Concerned as he was with the dogs, he was more centered on the voice. He strained to listen. Please say you'll help me. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt someone's pain. He couldn't remember how to feel anything but bored or frustrated. The dogs both sniffed the air, and as if recognizing him, wagged their tails in greeting and sat down, hair settling to make them appear much more friendly. Keeping one eye on the dogs, he strained to catch the words spoken in that soft lilting tone. What do the doctors say? It shook him, hurt him, tore up his insides so that his gut churned and a terrible weight pressed on his chest. Damon forgot all about the dogs and pressed his hand over his heart. He recognized the voice, knew from Inez at the grocery store that her fifteen- year- old son, Drew was terminally ill. They said to take him home and make him comfortable.
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