Meg Hennessy has woven together a tapestry of dynamic emotion and tension as our Hero and Heroine pin wit against wit as they discover that there is more to this story then what can be seen floating on the surface of the murky bayous. Hennessy does an amazing job of creating dialogue where there is none; creating tension without a word, and slowly divulging our plot organically, while keeping us hungry for the reveal. Hennessy touched on the social disparity of the times between the Creole woman, and the white landowner with a soft hand, leaving us with the knowledge of the times and an understanding of the emotion it brings, without it overtaking the story of their relationship or the overall plot of the story. I looked forward to find out what mysteries and dangers will await Jordan Kincaid's sister, Colette, in the story to come.
Jan 13, 2015 Rjstyles rated it 5 stars

"This story has a passionate romance, dark secrets and a mystery that needs to be solved…setting was perfect as was the paranormal element. I could picture the swirling mists and the magic that surrounded Aurelie. I wanted the lovers to find their happiness. Meg Hennessy had me caught in her spell."
Sep 04, 2014 Rosemary K rated it 4 stars

"…I was immediately drawn in and captivated by Ms. Hennessy's characters and fully imagined backdrop and setting where their romance unfolds. I am eager to read more and look forward to the next installment of the trilogy.
Aug 22, 2014 Betsy Norman rated it 5 stars

"A Southern Gothic guaranteed to please." - CAYOCOSTA72 Goodreads 5 Stars

"You are very smart, Aurèlie."
 
His expression forced her to smile. He seemed genuinely impressed, if not slightly puzzled.
 
"Merci."

"I’ve never matched wits with a woman before, especially a Creole woman, but I am impressed. This demure thing of yours, an act?" He started to circle around the marble table in the center of her bedroom.

Aurèlie circled the opposite direction. "Non, Monsieur, you told me to protect myself."

"Not from me! I will not harm you, but you are inquisitive. I knew you intended to use your new key to sneak about. Too dangerous, I needed you safely in your room. So, my Creole beauty, how did you know there was something in the drink?"

"I suspected."

He shook his head as he turned and circled back in her direction. Aurèlie turned and went the opposite of her husband. The marble tea table still in between them. "You knew."

She didn’t respond, noticing the moonlight that slipped through her window played off the soft color of his light hair. Though he wanted to sound angry, his face betrayed him, a handsome face with character and depth. "How did you know?"
 
"You smuggler?" she persisted. "Ah...Une question contre une question, d'accord?"

"No." He answered quickly, the man who didn't speak French. He turned to circle back around the table.
Aurèlie again out-maneuvered him, keeping her distance but not enough for him to lose interest.

Knowing he felt thwarted by her, she also felt his heated perusal of her body with every glance.
The light shadowed his eyes. Yes, they hungered for her, for something yet untouched. A hint of anticipation swirled without mercy through her heart until the heat sank lower into her own self-defying need as the hunted. She wanted her predator to reach across the room and simply capture her. Now was the time. Half drugged, he’d give in.

"I am far from a smuggler." His sudden answer surprised her, though she doubted his truth. "I’ve heard of your powers, Madame, what are these powers?"

"I have no powers." Except that of a woman. She slipped off her red mantel and allowed it to drag behind her, slowly walking across the room. Draping it over the side chair, she faced him. He was breathing hard and she knew he fought to resist her. "But accustomed to you, I am."

An invitation.

He took a bold, unabashed perusal of her body with interest.

She pushed off one cap sleeve of her negligee to fall down her arm. He drew a sharp breath. She pushed off the other sleeve until only her hand held the entire gown over her breasts.
 
He leaned against the fireplace, watching her with an alluring, if not inviting smile. "I call your bluff. Let it go. Let it fall."

She smiled and gave her hair a light toss with the shake of her head. "I choose not to. As you so well made point of, I am not your slave, as you are not my master."

"The point of a fool, as it seems."