Karen Michelle Nutt

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A Twist of Fate

 
by
 
Karen Michelle Nutt
 
 
Federal copyright law prohibits this work from being copied, scanned, mechanically, or digitally produced for sale or for sharing except for brief passages to be used in reviews and related articles. For permissions or requests for other uses please contact the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
 
A Twist of Fate
 
Copyright © 2008 Karen Michelle Nutt
2
nd
Edition 2012
Cover Artist: Karen Michelle Nutt
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
 
Praises for A Twist of Fate
 
A Twist of Fate was a P.E.A.R.L Finalist for Best Time Travel 2008
 
“A Twist of Fate is a fascinating time travel. The romance between Keldon and Arianna is delightful. I love the setting of the southern plantation and genteel lifestyle. The storyline was exciting and entertaining. I particularly think it is a stroke of genius placing a Scottish pirate in the American south. Ms. Nutt has written a gem of a tale.”
Bonnie-Lass, Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance
 
“A Twist of Fate is a superbly written romantic love tale. I immensely enjoyed reading this book. Karen Michelle Nutt has vividly and emotionally wrote the plot and characters in a way that the reader will become enveloped, captivated and entranced in the story. I recommend this book to anyone who likes to read about paranormal, historical romance, time-travel genres.”
Amy J Ramsey "Trinagon”
Website:
www.trinagon.blogspot.com

 

“All I can say is WOW! This is my first reading of Karen Michelle Nutt's work, and I must say I am suitably impressed. The story flowed remarkably well and the characters were very lovable. I enjoyed the small history lessons throughout the story. The story was highly descriptive and made you feel as if you were there on the plantation with them. The storyline was developed and resolved at the end. This was my first story but it definitely won't be my last.”
Reviewed by Breia Brickey at PNR Paranormal Romance
 
“Ms. Nutt never ceases to amaze me with her talent as a writer. With each of her novels she brings back the edge of excitement and the thrill of romance. Oh, and don't let us forget about true love. She brings magic to the pages of her story, keeping your attention with spellbinding mystery. You can find everything in one of her stories, Romance, Action, and Adventure, etc… Way to go Karen Michelle Nutt, we can not wait until your next novel comes out.”
Reviewer: Tabitha
Ghost Writers Reviews

 

 
 

 

 
 
To Cathy and Briana because they enjoyed this adventure the most.
To my biggest fans: Kendra, Katrina and Vincent, and to my family.
 

The real journey is the souls.”
~W.B. Yeats~

CHAPTER ONE

 

The Present

Blue Run Plantation, South Carolina

 

Songs from Aerosmith blared from the roller coaster ride drowning out the screams as the people in the cars sped around the track. The aroma of the sweet, sugary smell of cotton candy and buttered popcorn filled the night air. Paper wrappers, cups and cheap stuffed animals littered the fairgrounds. Families, couples—young and old laughed and joked as they tried their hands at the carnival games while stuffing their faces with hot dogs, hamburgers, or big turkey legs.
The muggy air promised rain later tonight, but no one seemed anxious to leave the festivities. Arianna plopped down on the bench and smiled. She had helped the historical society plan the event and all proceeds from the carnival’s productive night would go toward the restoration of Blue Run Plantation.
Her eyes wandered toward the mansion silhouetted against the darkening sky of blue, orange and gold. In the colonial era, the river served as a highway for the Low Country plantations and the families used the tides to travel. She could only imagine how majestic Blue Run would have stood facing the Ashley River.
“Arianna!”
She turned and waved as she caught sight of Megan hurrying toward her. Her long brown ponytail swung behind her with purpose, making Arianna suspicious. “What does the spitfire want me to do now?” she whispered under her breath.
Megan pulled Arianna to her feet. “Everyone’s been talking about Madam Carlotta.”
“Who?”
“The gypsy fortuneteller. People claim she has been freakishly accurate. We have to check this out.”
“And why would I care?” Arianna dragged her feet.
“We’re going to have our fortunes told. I want to know if Gregory plans on proposing to me on my birthday.”
Megan and Gregory had been a couple since their first year of college and the way he’s been scraping and saving, Arianna could give the prediction herself. Gregory would propose no doubt about it. “Megan, I don’t—”
“And you’re going to find out who your one and only is.”
Arianna drew in a frustrated sigh. “Not everyone is destined to find his or her soul mate.” At twenty-six, Arianna had become a successful music teacher at USC School of Music. With heavy schedules, concerts, and her time with the historical society, dating became a distant memory.
Megan stopped in her tracks and spun her around. “You don’t give a guy a chance. Look at you.” She swung her hand up from Arianna’s head to her toes. “Talented, tall, slender, blonde with cornflower blue eyes—men should be lining up to snatch you up, but you snub your nose.”
“Do not.” She lifted her chin.
Megan laughed. “Sure you don’t. You spend all your free time researching for the Historical Society and with the new items they uncovered you’ve been busier than ever. And I’ll have you know, I’ve seen you stare at the portrait.”
“What portrait?”
“Oh, don’t act all innocent. The portrait of the dark, handsome, brooding man related to the Buchanans of Blue Run. If you ask me, the family buried the portrait for a reason. He was probably an embarrassment to their refined upstanding position in society. I don’t need to do research. The man’s arrogant stance reeks of danger and my guess is he paid for it with his life.”
“It appears I’m not the only one obsessed with the portrait.”
“Only because I was curious as to why you’ve become a hermit. If you want someone dangerous, at least make sure he’s alive. Now stop stalling and let’s find out if Carlotta knows where your dark and dangerous guy is hiding.”
“Very funny.” Arianna shook her head. “Where are we going anyway?”
“To the mansion. Don’t you find it perfect?”
“No, I don’t find it perfect. The mansion isn’t safe for people to run in and out of; it’s still being restored. How did this gypsy woman obtain permission?”
“Oh lighten up, Arianna. Someone from the Historical Society must have given her the keys. Besides, she’s drawing in loads of money. Isn’t that the plan?”
“Sure, but—” Thunder rumbled cutting off Arianna’s words and she gave up arguing. “We’re in for a storm tonight.” Arianna looked up at the sky as a flash of light sizzled across the heavens.
“All the more reason to hurry. My hair will frizz worse than it has already.”
Torches lined the walk like breadcrumbs, leading them to their destination. Arianna stopped and placed her hands on her hips. She frowned at the big purple sign over the entrance of the mansion that spelled out FORTUNES, in bold black letters. “She’s defacing private property.”
Megan yanked her arm. “Sue her later, but first our fortunes.”
They stepped into the front foyer of darkness. A battery operated globe stood on the floor giving the illusion of the heavens opening up to them. A foldable card table stood in the center of the foyer with a large crystal ball on display. Inside the glass an eerie glowing mist swirled around in milky silence. The fortuneteller wore a colorful scarf like a headband to keep her dark curly hair away from her face. She adorned herself with gold jewelry, hoops in her ears, chains around her neck and bands around her wrists. The whole ensemble gave the appearance that she could be a descendant from gypsies.
Carlotta beckoned her forward, her bracelets tinkling like tiny bells. "One at a time, please.” Her voice was rich and flavored with a fake Romanian accent. "Let Carlotta tell you what you want to know.”
Megan gave Arianna a slight push. “I’ll wait outside.
Arianna rolled her eyes at her friend, but she approached the table and sat down.
"For the cost of my eyesight into the future, there is a small donation of twenty dollars.” She held out her hand and waited.
“Twenty …” she huffed. “Fine.” She reminded herself this was for a good cause. She pulled out a crisp bill from her purse and paid the hefty price.
Carlotta stuffed the money into a skull-adorned black box. "Now, we shall see what the cards hold for you. She shuffled the tarot cards before she turned them over revealing first the Death card, then the World card and then the Lovers card. “This cannot be right.”
“What?”
Carlotta chuckled nervously. “Sometimes the cards are not clear.” She scooped them up and put them back in a pile. “Let me see your palm.”
Arianna leaned forward and held out her hand.
The fortuneteller’s brows furrowed as she concentrated, a look of fear passing over her features before she concealed her anxiety.
A primitive warning sounded in Arianna’s mind. She suddenly didn’t want her fortune read. She tried to pull her hand away, but Carlotta wouldn’t release her.
"You have an interesting palm.” Carlotta pointed to the line that ran the course of her hand. "This is your life line. You will live a long life.”
“What’s the shorter one next to it mean?”
Carlotta didn’t answer. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her whole body jerked as if she was being controlled by another force. She flung to one side then the other before she sat up ramrod straight.
Blood slid through Arianna’s veins like cold needles and she tried to break free, but Carlotta’s grip was like a vice. As if this wasn’t freaky enough, the woman began to hum.
Arianna froze and her eyes widened in surprise as she recognized the melody. It was an old Scottish tune, she’d been haunted by as long as she could remember. The melody lingered in her subconscious surfacing at odd moments like an annoying tick. Her parents swore they never taught her the song and no one knew where she’d picked up the tune.
How did this fake fortuneteller know it? Arianna again yanked her arm and this time pulled free. She rubbed her bruised hand, staring at the woman with suspicion.
Carlotta blinked rapidly before she focused her gaze on Arianna. "I am sorry. Did I hurt you?"

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