Cursed Love: Cursed Love (Cursed, #1)

Cursed Love

The Cursed Series, #1

By t. h. snyder

© 2014 t. h. snyder (Tiffany Snyder)

Published by t. h. snyder

First published in 2014. All rights reserved. This book is copyright. Apart from the fair purpose of private study, research or review as permitted by the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced without written permission.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.  If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.  If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy.  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Images Copyright

Book Cover By Design: Kellie Dennis

Cover photo by Stacy Michael Photography

Acknowledgements

Cursed Love is the beginning to a series that I've had saved in the back of mind for the past few months. I’m excited to present it to you and can only hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I have loved writing it.

I couldn't have done this without the help and support of the following people…

My FAMILY! Roberta M Rizzotto (Mom), Angela Minnich, Jim Minnich (Dad), and Marilyn Minnich. You guys are my personal cheerleaders helping to push me every day. Your words of encouragement make the long days and hours of writing well worth it.

To my two wonderful KIDS, you are my world Raeghyn, and Mason. I love you both to infinity and beyond.

My BETA GIRLS! Barb Johnson, Margaret MC, Joanne Schwehm, Karrie Puskas, Jennifer Maikis, Yamara Martinez, Crystal Rearick, Jamie Bourgeois and Amy Concepcion. Without you I’d be a hot mess. You let me throw ideas out there and never fear the need to tell me your honest opinions. I love you for taking time out of your busy days to read my stories.

To the amazing BLOGS that support me and never flinch when I ask them to post my teasers and such. You’re all too good to be true.

The READERS, well hell I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. I adore the messages you send me and all of your kind words. Knowing that I’ve touched so many of you with my stories makes my heart happy.

My STREET TEAM, t. h. snyder & the pimpettes. You are a crazy cool bunch and I’m so grateful to each and every one of you.

A special shout out to a few AUTHORS that I know and love very much. Without your support and encouragement, I’d be lost. I love you Margaret MC, Joanne Schwehm, Julie Morgan, Skye Turner, LL Collins, JM Witt and AD Justice .

My long distance BFF…my rock and my go to girl. Christine Stanley you are my world. Without you my life would be boring and my four year old wouldn’t have anyone to Skype with at eleven o’clock every night. I love you and so glad we are a dynamic duo.

My PA TEAM, t. h. snyder’s angels. Shawna Ortega and Raquel Lozano, you two are awesomesauce! You both came into my life to help me organize and take control over my social media, but what I found was two amazing ladies that are now my forever friends. Love you girls!!!

Kellie Dennis, you are the most amazing COVER ARTIST a gal could ask for. No matter what I want or need you get the job done for me. I know this cover was one that you had way too much fun working with, but once again you created a masterpiece. I love you hard girl.

Tiffany Tillman, you are a fantastic EDITOR and I love you long time. No matter when I say I have a project you always find the time to spend on my stories. I love you girl!!!

Last but certainly not least, my COVER MODEL, Lance Jones. I can remember the first day I messaged you like it was yesterday. I was scared and nervous to approach a model, but you made building a relationship with you so easy. You may have a pretty face, but it’s your personality that drew me to you. You’ve helped me create a character that will stick with me forever. I couldn’t have chosen a better MUSE to envision as Linc in Cursed Love. You’re more than just a model to me, you’re a lifelong friend and I love you for putting your trust in me. We’re in this for the long haul….teamwork.

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
 

Prologue

Sitting Indian style on my twin-sized bed, I fight through the final battle as Zelda on my Nintendo.

I’ve been trying to beat this game for the past week and now I’m so close. I only have this one life left, I need to do this…I need to win.

With my sword drawn out, my tongue darts over to the side of my mouth and I can feel my heart beating faster through my chest. As my sweaty hands hold on tightly to the controller, my thumbs work their magic to defeat the unsightly creature on my TV screen.

One more spear to the torso should do the trick and I’ll be the Zelda legend. A smile forms across my face, and I know very well that I’m about to become ‘
The Champion
’.

My eyes are glued to the colors flying across the screen as I hear my bedroom door creak open.

For just a second, I turn my head to see my mom walking in with my tuxedo in her hands. I roll my eyes and quickly look back to the fight, but it’s a moment too late.

“Mom!” I scream.

I toss the controller toward the end of my bed and cross my arms over my chest.

“Lincoln, this is no time to throw a temper tantrum,” she says with a serious look on her face. “You’re nine years old and you’re expected to act like a mature young man.”

I look up at her with a pout, “Yes, ma’am.”

She nods her head and smiles.

“That’s better. Now get yourself off of your bed and get dressed. I’ll be back in here in less than thirty minutes and I want you dressed and ready to meet our guests for dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I watch as she hangs my tuxedo on the back of my bedroom door and exits the room.

Tonight is one of the biggest nights for our family, not just for my dad. I know I need to act a certain way and be on my best behavior. It’s nights like this that I wish I was just a normal kid.

Ever since I can remember I’ve been told to act like a gentleman, use appropriate manners, not to slouch, and speak up only when spoken to. For a kid my age, it really kinda sucks.

I just wish I was more like my best friend Daulton. He’s the luckiest kid I know. His parents let him do whatever he wants, leave the house whenever he wants, and just be a kid.

Not me, I’m a Minzotto. I’ll have to do as Mom and Dad say and follow in the political footsteps of my parents. My older brother and sister are already talking about their future careers, but seriously, I’m only nine years old. How the heck am I supposed to know what I want to do when I grow up? As of right now, all I know is that I’d rather play Nintendo than celebrate Dad’s election night for another term as congressman of our stupid state.

I slump my shoulders and slide off of my bed. Walking toward my bedroom door, I take off my while polo and reach for the tuxedo shirt. Pulling it off the hanger, I make quick work of getting myself dressed before my mom comes back into my room.

As I’m tying my shoes, I see my bedroom door open out of the corner of my eyes. Mom doesn’t say a word while she looks in on me with my brother and sister standing on either side of her.

Mom stands tall next to my siblings and she looks very pretty in her long black dress. Her hair is pulled up off her shoulders and she’s wearing a fancy necklace that hangs down to the neckline of her dress.

Shelton, my older brother, is dressed in a similar tuxedo as mine and Mimi, my older sister, is wearing a long shimmery blue dress.

I look down at myself and hope that I appear to be as presentable as them. Standing from my bed, I walk toward my mom. Not a word is spoken nor a glance of my siblings in the wrong direction. I follow them as the four of us walk down the grand staircase leading into the foyer of our home. As I reach the last few steps, I see my dad walking toward us.

My eyes follow him as he leans forward to place a kiss on Mom’s cheek. A smile creeps across her face and his hand goes to the bottom of her back.

Our parents turn to face me, Shelton, and Mimi.

“The guests will be arriving momentarily and dinner will be served promptly at seven. I don’t think I need to remind the three of you that this is election night. It’s a night to celebrate and enjoy one another as a family; however, I still expect courtesy and manners amongst our guests.”

“Yes, sir,” Shelton replies.

I tilt my head to the floor and roll my eyes.
Suck up.
My sister nudges my side and I look up to see our father nodding his head as he leads us toward the formal living room.

For what feels like an eternity, I stand around and watch as my parents discuss the evening with guests as they start to arrive.

Collin, Dad’s campaign manager, calls for everyone to move to the dining room for dinner. I take my seat next to Mimi and enjoy the meal our chef has prepared for us.

I find myself gazing off into space, not that it’s unusual during these kinds of events. I don’t know why it’s so important for me to even be here. My parents haven’t looked at or spoken to me since I came down the stairs. To be honest, I don’t know that they’d even miss me if I slipped out of the room and upstairs to play Nintendo.

The idea of leaving piques my interest more and more as the conversations begin to turn toward the polls. I’m so bored I can’t help but yawn as I look around the table at all the men and women here to support the election tonight.

I plot my plan in my head for the next few minutes. Daulton only lives about two miles over the bridge. If I leave after dinner, I should be able to make it to his house in less than fifteen minutes.

My mind is made up—as soon as dinner is over, I’m ditching out of here.

I may only be a nine-year-old boy, but I sure as heck know that I’m not needed here tonight.

Once we’re excused from the table, I watch as everyone moves into the other rooms and I quickly make my escape through the open garage door.

I can feel the sweat trickle down my back the faster I pedal my bike. In a few minutes I should be at Daulton’s house; I just hope he’s home.

Rounding the last turn in his neighborhood, I see that the front porch light is on and the garage door is open with his mom’s car parked inside.

I hop off of my bike and lean it against the side of the house. As I march my way up onto the front porch, I take off my jacket and hang it across my arm. I reach for the doorbell and wait for someone to come and answer the door.

The front door swings open and Daulton stands in the doorway wearing a Skate or Die tee-shirt and black running pants.

A smile comes across his face as he pushes open the screen door.