In the dust bowl days, several farmers offend a traveling gypsy and she casts a "pall" over the county.
The Gypsy Pall
Amos Hay, a farmer, visits the camp of the wandering gypsies. He and other local men offend the lovely Apolena. She lays a spell over the county and strange things begin to happen. Amos returns home to find his wife has become insatiable. Emory Jewel is horrified to discover his body is changing. And an abomination is born to a cow on the Ferguson farm. Amos and Emory are forced to ask the frightening Widow Teague for help. This book has explicit scenes and is for adults only.
“What you want, peasant?” she addresses him, her sultry voice filled with an odd combination of scorn and invitation.
His throat goes dry and he fumbles his cap from his head and worries it in his rough hands.
“You,” he whispers hoarsely. “How much?”
She laughs softly. Her voice is like bells or zephyrs or the clear rushing waters of an enchanted stream.
“What a crude man you are,” she says, looking intently at him. “Why you think you can buy my love?”
He stammers his reply, which makes no sense even to his ears. He has heard rumors, he tells her. He thought, he assumed, he guessed.
“Well, you guess wrong, peasant,” she replies. “I should curse you for this insult. But, Apolena feels pity for you. You have woman?”
“Yes. My wife, Martha,” he tells her, his face flushed and perspiring.
“Why you not make love with your wife, Martha?” she demands.
“She’s a good woman, my wife,” he says. “She works hard, she’s decent. She’s not the type to, well, appreciate the animal side of things. She’s upstanding.”
“Ah, I see now,” Apolena says knowingly. “You would do these things to me that you would not do to your virtuous wife.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“I know what you mean, peasant,” she snaps. She closes her eyes for a moment and touches her chin with the tip of her slender finger. Amos eyes the many rings on her hand, the dark red nails, her slender bangled wrist, and is seized by a feeling of irresistible lust tinged with fear. He knows he has offended her but can’t seem to disguise his longing. He thinks it must be oozing from his pores, filling the very air with its urgency.
“Come back tomorrow night,” she decrees. “Bring fifty dollars and something that belongs to your wife.”
“Fifty dollars?” he says in shock. She dismisses him with a wave of her hand.
“Fifty dollars, peasant,” she says as she rises. He stumbles to the doorway and carries his hunger with him out into the night.