Voodoo In HaitiChapter 4
The warm, triumphant tropical sun rose brightly on the following day and found Alice Carlton still dawdling in the bed, a thin sheet covering her luscious, sweat-soaked body. She had slept brokenly that night, and when brief sleep came, awful dreams of perverted sexuality ran rampant. And each dream featured handsome, suave Roger Antrim. She turned around in the bed, her hand searching for Richard's familiar presence. But Richard was not there. She looked at the alarm clock on the night...