Enchant the Dawn
Authors: Elaine Lowe
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Enchant the Dawn
ISBN 9781419915536
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Enchant the Dawn Copyright © 2008 Elaine Lowe
Edited by Helen Woodall.
Cover art by Philip Fuller.
Electronic book Publication April 2008
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/)
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Enchant the Dawn
Elaine Lowe
Dedication
For Shannon who was the inspiration behind such a fabulous setting. Write baby, write! For Lawrence, my own
ashavi
, you make me a better person, my love.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Automat: Automat Café Corporation
Cleveland Indians: Cleveland Indians Baseball Company
Cotton Club: The Cotton Club Corporation
Metropolitan Museum: Metropolitan Museum of Art, The
Packard: Packard Automobile Classics, Inc.
Red Sox: Boston Red Sox Baseball Club Limited Partnership New England Sports Ventures, LLC
Savoy: Los Angeles Entertainment, Inc.
Silver Ghost: Rolls-Royce Motors Limited Corporation
Studebaker: Studebaker Motor Company Inc.
Yankees: New York Yankees Partnership composed of George M. Steinbrenner III, a U.S. citizen, Martinique Holdings, Inc., a Florida corporation (general partner) and Marsh Harbor Holdings, Inc. a Florida corporation
Zane Grey: Zane Grey, Inc.
Glossary
Ashavi/Ashava
—companion, partner of life, soulmate.
Chovihan
i—witch.
Gadje
—a non-
Romani
person.
Gitano/Gitana
—Spanish
Romani
, they speak Calo, a Spanish with lots of words borrowed from
Romani
. Many people thrown out of conventional life by the Spanish Inquisition joined the
Romani
living in Spain to make up the
Gitano
people.
Magi
—a tribe of Iranian people highly respected as capable and wise leaders. They were followers of the Zoroastrian religion and so well known for their knowledge they gave rise to the word we use to apply to the supernatural talents, “magic”. They spread throughout the Middle East and India but no direct trace of their influence can be found after the tenth century AD when it is thought that religious wars within the Persian Empire brought about their disappearance. In fact, they still exist, hidden among many peoples of the world. Each son is handed the task of finding his lifemate or
ashavi
and releasing their combined powers.
Moco
—magic, power in Gullah/Geechee dialect.
Moll
—a gangster’s girlfriend.
Oshun
—a Yoruban goddess of love, intimacy, wealth and diplomacy. Her worship can also be found among the legends of the Gullah peoples of the Sea Islands of South Carolina.
Phuro
—a
Romani
male elder.
Romani
—Called Gypsy by most from the mistaken belief they came from Egypt, these dynamic people roam all over Europe and now the Americas. Originally from India, their
Romani
language is closely related to the languages of the Indian subcontinent. Most have converted to Christianity but the importance of Sainte Sara la Kali is a reminder that they once worshipped the mother goddess Durga and her incarnation as the avenging Kali.
Sinti
—a group of the
Romani
that live farther to the north and west.
From The Scrolls of Nergal, Rab Magi
It is thus manifest, Knowing was forever. Knowing is Endless Light.
Within Knowing, there was also Being. They were One and Alone.
Surrounded by Void. Finite and Infinite.
Alone in existence, Knowing wished Understanding.
Knowing became the Two. Male and Female.
Betwixt them was Void.
Searching. Being calling to Being.
When Two meet, Creation. The filling of Void.
Infinite and Finite.
Understanding.
Chapter One
New York, New York 1926
The brownstones lining West One Hundred Ninth were just beginning to turn from gray to brown as Sophia Hunter clomped down the street. It was goddamn freezing and her gams were killing her from the ridiculous shoes she’d worn. Her head was so fuzzy that she was sure as hell grateful she’d only had two glasses of the swill Burt and Margie had been pouring. It was nearly dawn and she’d finally headed out the door when the band was packing it in. She was tired and looking forward to catching a couple of hours sleep, only to have the annoying clod she’d come in with try to get her into the uncomfortable backseat of his ancient Silver Ghost. Or into his bed, “Whichever you prefer, babycakes”.
Well, she preferred neither. The gin on his breath smelled vile and she’d have been perfectly happy going through the pathetic remains of her life never being called “babycakes” again. So, now she was hoofing it home to her tiny apartment on East Eighty-Sixth in Yorkville. It was too nice an area and she paid through the nose for the privilege of living in some rich swell’s converted closet. But it was worth it not having quite so much of the pain to deal with. The only way she could troop into Harlem or Morningside or over to Brooklyn was with enough booze and jazz and energy to ignore the pounding of desperation and pain clawing at her mind.
Five o’clock in the morning however, was relatively quiet and peaceful, if damned cold for mid-March and Sophia clutched the slightly shabby rabbit fur coat around her just a little bit tighter. Again, she cursed herself for refusing the chinchilla that Marvin had tried to give her two years ago. Her independence didn’t help much to keep her warm when she had to walk halfway across Manhattan in the dead of winter. Well, maybe not the dead of winter… Grams would have corrected her automatically. Tomorrow—no, today. Today was March twenty-first, the first day of spring.
She may not have kept up with the seasons’ calendar like Grams did but at least she’d be greeting the sun this morning. A gap opened in the line of buildings as she walked and she came to the corner with Central Park West. Before her, spread out in its cold, sparse, neglected glory, was the gem of New York, Central Park. A smart girl would avoid it like the plague and walk up to West One Hundred Tenth, or just try to get cozy with a milkman and his horse and flirt their way over to the Eastside.
Maybe it was her independence, maybe it was her annoyance with men and conventional wisdom in general or maybe it was the call of this small bastion of nature, however neglected. But on that spring day, Sophia Hunter was going to brave the wilds of Central Park, come hell or high water.
* * * * *
The elm trees were bare of leaves but Spring was not far away at all…mere moments by the calendar of the sun. The stillness was so profound, she could feel the sap rising and it took an effort of will not to lean against one of the young trees and feel it deep in her own blood. It was tempting but she was not sure she was ready for the consequences.
She knew she was not alone in the vast park, not by a long shot. Besides the presence of dormant trees and the occasional noises from overwintering birds or industrious squirrels, Sophia could feel other humans. She could feel them as surely as she could feel herself breathe.
Normally, this would increase her watchfulness. She’d shut down her “sensitivity” as her mother called it, to such an extent that she felt only a dull buzz. Unless there was a particularly strong wave of—something—maybe life force or bloodlust or sheer primal emotion. Forming a fence between herself and the world was the only way to survive living in a city as vast as New York.
Perhaps it was just something calming about her solitary walk, or something inspiring about the elms. She knew that she was more open to her particular gift than she had been in a long, long time. She could tell that the people near by, whoever they were to be out so early, these folks were not the type to cause her fear. If anything she felt an odd pull to seek them out.
