Katja's Curse

By Tonya Kerrigan

What happens when when a witch doesn't heed the Witch's Creed to harm none and invokes the Rule of Three? Includes a sample of Blood Promise by Tonya Kerrigan.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nyx House Press
• Release date: Oct 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781386916345

Tonya Kerrigan

Tonya Kerrigan lives wherever her heart takes her, which is currently in the mountains of Mexico. Her family has grown to include her four grown children, a son-in-law, and three grandchildren. When she's not writing, you can find her spending time with her kids, friends and family, curling up with a good book and a glass of wine, or sitting under a moonlit sky. Follow Tonya on her LinkTree for exlusive information and new release news at: https://linktr.ee/tonyakerrigan  

Book preview

THE WITCH’S CREED

Young or old, it matters not.

The witch’s creed must still be taught.

Harm none, the saying goes,

"For Karma will give you nothing but woe,

And you too shall suffer the same fate times three."

Keep your heart pure, your mind alert,

For darkness, it seems, beckons from its perch.

"Come to me, let me in.

Allow me to slither along your skin.

I’ll give you what you so desire.

In return I ask for a favor that’s minimal to you,

You won’t even feel a pinch.

I’ll invade your mind and your very soul,

And give you what you desire most.

This arrangement is lasting,

As I decree,

That only death will free you from me."

The Rule of Three must still be heeded.

The Curse of Justice

Katja stared up at the full moon, watching as it eclipsed into earth’s shadow in the night sky with a spring chill in the air. Angrily, she wiped a tear away. Her hand shaking, she placed the tip of her athame blade against her wrist, blew out a breath and tried to calm down. Taking a few deep breaths, she pressed the tip of the blade into her skin, making a small cut.

She watched as the blood swelled onto her skin, dribbled down her wrist, and then plopped onto the parchment below with the name of her intended written in her own blood. She counted thirteen drops before she stopped the bleeding. Thirteen...normally a lucky number, but not tonight. Tonight, she would curse her husband for the thirteen years she’d put up with his lying—and what she’d recently learned, cheating—behavior. She’d thought about cursing the women he’d cheated on her with, but more than likely he’d lied to them about her as well. While the lying and cheating were bad enough, he’d mortified her in front of her coven only hours earlier; he’d informed her he’d put up with her support group long enough and he was leaving her!

Katja could feel her anger and hatred—yes, hatred—for him. It started as a pressure in the center of her chest that bloomed out into her limbs, making her body vibrate with rage and her breathing labored.

Her hands shaking, she gently placed her athame back down on her altar. Breathing deep, she placed her hands, palms down, on the altar and looked up at the moon, letting it fill her with strength. 

Get yourself together, Katja, she thought. You don’t want to screw things up and curse yourself instead.  Try as she might though, all she could see was his condescending smirk as he’d berated her in front of her coven sisters. He’d told them she wasn’t truly a high priestess but a hack, a fraud, and undeserving of their following. Basically, she was nothing.

You’re not a high priestess, Katja, not even a witch. You’re simply a wannabe, he’d taunted.

She placed the white candle in front of her, representing East; the red candle to the left of her, representing South; the blue candle furthest from her, representing West, and the green candle to the right of her, representing North. In the middle, representing Spirit, she placed a black candle. Picking up Michael’s hairbrush, she carefully pulled out a few strands of his long, blond hair and laid them in the center of the parchment.

She lit the white candle and held it up high over her head. Spirits of the East, I call the power of Air to preside over this ceremony. Blow this curse of justice to whom it’s intended; you know I’ve been hurt. I ask for your blessings as I right this wrong, and for protection from any Karmic debt that could possibly come to me from the power of this curse.

After setting down the white candle, she lit the red one and held it up. "Spirits of the South, I call the power of Fire to preside over this ceremony. Send heat and flame to whom this curse is intended; make his soul burn. I ask for your blessings as I right this wrong, and to burn any Karmic debt that could