The Artist's Inheritance

Chapter One

The balance between good and evil can be an art... or a curse.

Trevor and Caitlin were once happy newlyweds, profiting from Trevor's art. Until Trevor inherits his brother's house, and with it, his part of a family curse. Now, Caitlin will stop at nothing to save her beloved husband from insanity and suicide, even if it means she must embrace her destiny and become a witch.

Cover art by Patty G. Henderson, Boulevard Photografica

The Artist's inheritance, Copyright 2012 and beyond, Raven Queen Publications

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Praise for The Artist's Inheritance

"What if you were the only thing standing between your lover and utter destruction? With The Artist's Inheritance, debut author Juli D. Revezzo establishes herself as an exciting new voice in dark and creepy fantasy. Read this one with all of your lights on!" ~ Kathy Carmichael, bestselling author of Your Magic Touch

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                                                                                  Chapter One

"Look, I love you, Trevor," Caitlin said, "but why don't you put your art aside for a minute and help me move the rest of these boxes out of the living room?"

He didn't hear her, more intent on the chair. Beautifully carved of expensive oak, its curving armrests begged something to hold; its tall back reached toward the ceiling, though its peaked top fell far short of its goal.

He hadn't wanted to just fit precut plywood slats together. No. He'd gone out, bought blocks of wood, chiseled and sawed away at the blocks day after day. He'd worked on it since late February when he'd bought the house in Gulf Breeze, Florida, from his sister-in-law Amelia. Almost before he'd finished packing his tools, he'd pulled out his sketchbooks to jot down ideas.

If he'd only stop working long enough to help her straighten up the downstairs, she could love the piece even more.

He said nothing.

"Trevor? Boxes. Move. Help."

"Yeah, yeah. In a minute." He strolled to his worktable by the attic window. Pencils, saws, gouges and other woodworking tools filled its surface. Trevor selected another gouge and turned back to the chair.

Caitlin crossed her arms, finding herself thoroughly dismissed, and not liking it one bit. Oh, for Pete's sake! "Maybe you can use one of the empty boxes to move that thing out."

"What? Move what out?"

She waved a hand to the chair. "Your project to make you the new avant garde?" If he didn't get rid of it, she'd do it herself. She hated the thing. Her skin crawled whenever she looked at it, yet she couldn't say why. "When someone buys it, you can use one of the boxes to ship it to them."

A quirk creased his brow; the silent look proved he thought her crazy. "Sell it? Who'd want it?"

"Indeed." She pushed the festering argument down, watching him finger the chair with mixed reverence and longing. Though lovely, she wondered why he would simply carve a chair when they had this beautiful landscape, Santa Rosa Island, and its intriguing Civil War era fort, outside their window.