ISBN 978-1-60183-281-8
A Cursed Princes Romance

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Sleeping Beauty and the Demon


Dragomir Starkov poses as an illusionist, a showman performing tricks, his Romanian accent and dark good looks all just a part of the drama. That's how Rose Carlisle first sees him. She's a respectable girl--she wouldn't accept witchy birthday gifts from a demon. But the hustle and bustle of 1912 New York City offers plenty of ways to slip around the strict old rules of propriety. A good thing, too, because once Rose meets Drago, she no longer cares about being respectable.

But the only illusion in Drago's act is that his magic is smoke and mirrors. Every word of power he speaks is as real as Rose before him, in thrall to his lust and adoration. Drago knows about Rose's curse, that she will die on her next birthday. But the shadowy threat that stalks her hasn't won her yet. If she can trust him, perhaps he can save her too. . .


"An intriguing twist on a classic fairy tale."
- Jennifer Estep, NY Times Bestselling Author




“You're so good at what you do,” she protested. “No one seems to perform their tricks better. Perhaps you'll share one more secret.”

He stepped in again and lifted a hand to her cheek. It felt like silk against his palm. “Very well. I shall reveal one more. This one pertains to you, my dearest Rose. I wanted nothing more than to find my soul mate. And when you appeared to me in a dream, you stole my heart.”

She rasped a breath inward.

“Your astonishing beauty is unparalleled—as is the purity of your heart. You have no idea how long I've waited to meet someone like you.”

Dazed, she stared at him. Her eyes gleamed like the petals of an orchid. “I'm intrigued that you saw me in a dream, but that isn't the kind of secret I was talking about.'

“I know.”

She tilted her face to the side, as if to prepare for the kiss she knew would come. When her eyes fluttered shut, Drago seized his chance. His stare shifted from the perfection of her complexion to her raspberry lips. Running a finger along her delicate jaw line, he snaked his other hand around her tiny waist and gathered her close. With a quick intake of breath, his lips came crashing down over hers for a kiss that, oddly enough, wasn't a kiss of two strangers. Instead, it was so scorching, so intimate, and so connected, it felt as though they'd known each other forever.

Desiring to possess every inch of her, Drago used his tongue to invade her sweet mouth.

It twisted and turned with hers in hasty fervor—and he found that she tasted more delicious than he remembered melted caramel tasting…more savory than the finest cut of meat.

Driven by his pent-up lust, he gripped the exposed nape of her neck. And as he plundered her mouth, he felt grateful that Rose hadn't withdrawn from him. Their tongues tangled again—stoking the fire that'd ignited between them.

Rose moaned against Drago's mouth before she drew away, gasping for air. With cheeks flushed beneath the tendrils that had escaped her coif, she looked embarrassed. “I can't believe I allowed you to kiss me like that.”

“I hope it wasn't unpleasant.”

She put a gloved hand to her mouth.

“I, for one, will never regret kissing you, Rose. You're very special to me.” He took her hand away from her face and raised it to his lips. Kissing one finger and then another, he offered her a smile.

She didn't return it. “You scare me when you talk like that.”

Regardless of her mesmerized state, he thought, it's obvious she maintains a degree of self-will.


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