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Published by Harper Collins

Read reviews and purchase The Sacred Well at:http://www.thesacredwell.com/Visit Antoinette’s web page at:http://www.antoinettemay.com/

The Sacred Well – A novel by Antoinette May

A young reporter in 1923, Alma Reed accompanies archaeologists to theruins of Chichen Itza, where a fortune in Mayan artifacts has been stolen from asacrificial well. It's believed a curse was unleashed by the theft—yet thecareer-making story it offers the ambitious journalist seems a godsend.It also leads her to a passionate love affair with revolutionary governor FelipeCarrillo Puerto. But when fate darkens their lives and damns them as doomedpolitical pawns, Alma can't help but wonder if the curse is not, in fact, veryreal.In another century, another writer is fascinated by Alma's tragic story.Drawn restlessly to Yucatán—and away from the stifling needs of her desperately ill partner—Sage Sanborn is tempted by her growing feelings for David, a scientist who encourages her to delve deeper into Alma's history. Andin this ancient place of mystery and spirits, Sage must make an impossibledecision that will forever change the course of her life.

SAGEYucatan, the present dayChapter One

A Storm Warning

Merida is an ancient city, sensual and sophisticated. I loved it on sight and dreamed of getting lost there, a fantasy that haunts me still.As special guests, our wooden chairs had been placed on a small dais in the center of tinySanta Lucia Square. Sitting in the front row, making notes, I watched couples dance on animprovised stage. Dark suited men darted like moths. Women in white whirled coquettishly;trays of champagne glasses delicately balanced on their heads.I knew about balancing acts, have gotten good at them.

Not now, not tonight,

I pleaded to —to whom? Ixchel; it was her territory.

I want to have fun tonight

, I told the Maya moongoddess. This is

time.Leaning back, I fluttered a sandalwood fan against the sultry night, savoring the quaintold park with its graceful archways and lush plantings. The

mariachi

band sounded great; horns,violins, lots of guitars. When lightening sliced the sky I sat up with a start. A low roar echoed inthe distance, barely discernable. Thunder crashed above me now. How quickly the weather changes in Yucatan. The first, fast drops of rain pelted my hair, splashed my face.Companions were already up and running. Behind us was a narrow street, beyond that our hotel.Two group members were halfway there, our leader shepherding the rest across deepeningrivulets of rainwater.