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1 " The bones said death was comin', and the bones never lied.Eva Savoie leaned back in the rocking chair and pushed it into motion on the uneven wide-plank floor of the one-room cabin. Her grand pere Julien had built the place more than a century ago, pulling heavy cypress logs from the bayou and sawing them, one by one, into the thick planks she still walked across ever day.She had never known Julien Savoie, but she knew of him. The curse that had stalked her family for three generations had started with her grandfather and what he'd done all those years ago.What he'd brought with him to Whiskey Bayou with blood on his hands.What had driven her daddy to shoot her mama, and then himself, before either turned forty-five.What had led Eva's brother, Antoine, to drown in the bayou only a half mile from this cabin, leaving a wife and infant son behind.What stalked Eva now. "
― Susannah Sandlin , Wild Man's Curse
2 " There was something about a guy in a uniform most women found irresistible. Ceelie and Sonia had pondered this peculiar phenomenon over late-night glasses of moscato back in Nashville. They'd decided it had to be the belt and all the equipment that dangled from it when the guys walked, which not only was phallic but probably released extra sex pheromones into the air and turned women into nectar-seeking honeybees. "
3 " What a voice. Deep, throaty, but not in a sexy way. In a haunted way. A voice full of heartbreak and ghosts.I won't go back, I won't go home,'Cause in this place, the dead still roam,'Cause this time, Whiskey Bayou won't let me go. "
4 " Morning, ma'am. I'm looking for Tommy Mason. Is he around?" Polite and professional, that was Senior Agent Broussard."Lord, what's that no-good sonofabitch done now? Wait, you ain't a cop; you're a game warden. "What'd he do, run over a fish? "
5 " She glanced up at him. "Why does it matter? Why do you care?"He'd been staring at her hands again, but jerked his gaze up to hers as if surprised by the question. He answered quickly, almost automatically. "I am a law enforcement officer. I found your aunt and saw what... that animal" -- he seemed to struggle with the words -- "I saw what he did. And we don't know why."Ceelie nodded. "So this is how you'd treat anyone whose case you got involved with?"...He leaned across the space that divided them, cupping his left hand around her jaw and pulling her toward him as if she were fragile, breakable. His kiss was soft, a pressure of lips, a slight parting, a promise of more. His stubble scratched her chin. "That's the real answer." His voice was so soft the air around him seemed to soak it up. "And don't ask me what it means because I'll be damned if I know. "
6 " The lieutenant paused at the low, rhythmic hum sounding from inside the cabin, obviously loud enough for him to hear. Jena moved farther from the door. "What the hell is that?" he asked.Jena lowered her voice. "It's Ceelie Savoie, chanting or singing or something." She paused, but couldn't resist adding, "She has some new chicken bones."There was a long pause."Chicken bones. Golsalmighty." Warren sighed. "
7 " We can do slow and sweet later. I want you fast and rough, and I've been begging for a while now." She hooked a leg around his, bringing their bodies together as close as possible. "If you missed the memo, buddy, I've been trying to get you inside me half the day."With a low groan, he picked her up and lowered her to the bed, his mouth and tongue setting up a rhythm to match the fingers he slid inside her. "Not that," she said. "You. Now.""Bossy Cajun woman." He gave her a tousle-haired, lopsided grin as he rolled into the cradle of her thighs, positioning himself at her 'entrance... "
8 " Ceelie preferred cats and small dogs, although they tended to be eaten by alligators around here, as she recalled. Munchability wasn't a desirable trait in a pet. "
9 " Bones gotta have a special place of respect," she'd told Ceelie more times than she could count. "You treat them right and they'll always speak true.""The bones never lie," Ceelie whispered, placing the last one - a tiny skull - into the box and closing the lid. "
10 " This time, Lang held the knife against her throat. “You do know the answers. I knew it. You’re just like your aunt, with your witchy ways and your chicken bones. I killed her and I can kill you too–unless you tell me what I want to know.” If Lang thought she was a voodoo queen or a witch, well, better for her. He hadn’t touched Tante Eva’s throwing table, after all. “I threw the bones yesterday mornin’.” She used her own version of Eva’s accent. “I knew you was comin’, and I knew you was determined to get me.” “Give me a break, little Celestine. Taking you was as easy as shooting that red-headed bodyguard of yours.” Not a bodyguard, but a friend who was probably dead. Ceelie spoke softly, keeping her voice low and musical. “Tu me ne connais pas.” You do not know me. “Je passe la malédiction de vous, Langston Broussard.” I pass the curse to you, Langston Broussard. “Tu me ne peur pas.” You do not scare me. For a fraction of a second, Ceelie saw a flash of doubt—maybe even fear—cross Lang’s face before it settled back into a sneer. She had rattled him with a few words pulled from long-ago memories. The momentum might have swung her way, at least for a moment. "