New Release! Voodoo Vows by Diana Marie Dubois
Check this
book out. I can’t wait to read it. I
love the cover!
Title: Voodoo Vows
Author:
Diana Marie DuBois
Series:
Voodoo Vows (Book 1)
Genre:
Paranormal
Publisher: Three Danes Publishing LLC
Release: Date: Oct. 31st 2014
Blurb/Synopsis:
Rosie
Delacroix returns to New Orleans after her mother’s disappearance, is pulled
into an unimagined world and gets more than she bargained for.
Ensconced in
the life of magic and voodoo, she’s surrounded by unlikely allies.
Julian Quibodeaux, an old flame, re-enters her
life and their love is once again reignited like dry tinder to a flame.
However, he’s been cursed and unaware he holds a terrible secret…One that could
destroy their relationship.
Book Links:
Author
Amazon Page: http://www.amazon.com/Diana-Marie-DuBois/e/B00O97TWUO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1414713257&sr=8-1
Goodreads:
Amazon:
Author Bio:
As a young
girl, Diana Marie Dubois was an avid reader and was often found in the local
public library. Now you find her working in her local library. Hailing from the
culture filled state of Louisiana, just outside of New Orleans; she lives with
her three Great Danes and four spunky mutts.
Her biggest inspiration has always been the infamous Anne Rice and her
tales of Vampires. It was those very stories that inspired Diana to take hold
of her dreams and begin writing. She is now working on her first series, Voodoo
Vows.
Author
Links:
YouTube
EXCERPT:
Even in the
daytime the cemetery had an eerie, spooky aura surrounding the place. The three
of us walked to the mausoleum believed to house Marie Laveau’s body. The dozens
of X’s placed all over made me wonder if the people actually had received the
gift or wish they so desperately wanted. Or was she angered by the graffiti
upon her resting place, and had exacted the appropriate revenge on those that
dared mark her tomb? I sighed at the assortment of candles and bones and other
things left behind for Marie.
Coldness
surrounded me, before I sat down on a bench that appeared out of nowhere.
Jahane stood behind me with her hand on my shoulder. The comfort that exuded
from that one touch almost brought tears, but, no, not today. The time to be
strong was now. I began to empty my purse when, out of my peripheral vision, I
saw a ghostly figure walk around the disheveled marble mausoleum. Immediate
fear and shock consumed me. She was dressed in a long flowing skirt that
billowed around her without the hint of a breeze; her sheer dark skin shimmered
in the sun. A beautiful shawl was draped over her shoulders, and the white
tignon was tied perfectly around her head. She continued towards us, her
fingertips trailing along the white marble of the giant tomb. I looked up at
her in awe as her body shimmered back and forth from grainy to solid…there, but
not quite there.
“Ah, mon
piti,” she spoke in a mixture of English, and the lilt of her accent
accentuated her creole French language. “I had hoped you would come at my invitation
and visit me, as your mér had.
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