Breaking the Lovers Curse

By Morgan Moriarty

She has been cursed all her life...

Brandy, a beautiful woman from a seaside village, has wanted nothing more from life than to find her soul mate. But every potential suitor vanishes mysteriously after developing feelings for her.

But when she discovers that she is plagued by the Lovers Curse, doomed to lose every man who falls for her, she seeks out the only person who can break it: A handsome hermit warlock who goes by the name of Wexton. He sends her on a quest to gather potion ingredients to break the curse, but fights his feelings for her along the way.

Can Brandy and Wexton break the hold over her heart? Or will Wexton be doomed to disappear like all of her other past loves?

This novella is 25k+ words long and is an action-packed romance featuring lost loves, longing, steamy moments, and a woman who finally takes hold of her own destiny! This novella is a standalone story with a HEA and NO cliffhanger!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Guerilla Knuckles Publishing
• Release date: May 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201395643

Book preview

1

CURSED

Brandy, Granny Ivy called from the front room of their three-room cabin, You’ve had a letter. The little Gilbert boy from down the street just brought the post.

With a sigh, Brandy wiped the last of the dishes and put it away. Coming, Granny.

Brandy was tired. Her bones ached from work, making her feel much older than her 21 years. She smoothed down her old, brown work dress as she took off her washing apron and hung it on a nearby hook. For a moment, she wished that she had someone else to lean on when it came to helping keep her grandmother up, but that thought only made her more tired.

Elmer will help, she thought, thinking of the young man in the village that fancied her, He is strong and can lighten the load.

Elmer’s name made her sigh, but not with the dewy-eyed sigh that she wanted to give for him. He was the latest man to line up to court the most beautiful, eligible woman in the village, though there had been many before. Brandy’s fist beau, a sweet, freckle-faced boy named Freddie, had been lost during a hunt in the great woods. Her second suitor, an older man named Kree, was lost at sea during a storm. And then there was Juni, then Richard, then Bracken, and then Potts. All the lovely men who wanted her hand in marriage, and all of them vanishing just after asking for her betrothal. 

Maybe he will last, Brandy thought to herself, trying not to dwell on the proposal that he had offered her the week before. 

If Brandy was being honest with herself, she would have never said yes. Elmer wasn’t really her cup of tea, but he was a nice young man with a steady job at the lumber mill and a home of his own. He had even offered to take in Granny, which had made Brandy sigh with relief. It would have been hard for her to give up the only family she had ever known. 

Elmer was nice. Elmer was kind.

But Elmer didn’t make her heart flutter. He didn’t make her loins sing. 

But he was nice and kind and stable. 

Brandy walked into the front room and looked to her old, feeble grandmother. Granny Ivy laid on her straw-stuffed bed in the far corner of the room, looking as pale and as weak as ever. She was sitting up, propped up on a half dozen pillows that Brandy had made for her, and her eyes were on the open novel in her hand.

Where is the letter? Brandy asked, using her still-wet hands to smooth down her dark mahogany locks. 

Granny looked up and smiled when she saw her only living grandchild. The Gilbert boy left it on the table, she said with a pointed finger, I tipped him a copper.

Okay, Brandy said with a sigh. She pushed away thoughts of what food she could have bought with the copper and retrieved her letter. The envelope was old and weather-worn, and her name was written on the front in a handwriting that she could not recognize. Any idea who this is from?

The Gilbert boy didn’t say, Granny said. She turned her face toward her open book, but she was watching Brandy out of the corner of her eye.

With one swift move, Brandy opened the envelope and took out the tri-folded paper inside. 

To Brandy, the betrothed of Elmer,

I hope this letter finds you well. 

I regret to inform you that Elmer has been lost in the great woods after being sent to retrieve lumber from the neighboring village. His cart and horse arrived safely, but there was no trace of him. Search parties have come back empty handed.

Elmer was a fine young man who spoke well of you. 

We are very sorry for his loss.

Sincerely, 

Mr. John P. Roberts, owner of Lincoln Lumber

Brandy read the letter twice over before her hands began to crumple the paper into a ball. She felt nothing in her but anger at the disappearance of yet another suitor. When the first one had vanished, she mourned him for days, barely eating or leaving her bed. The second had brought confusion and self pity. And with each man who disappeared from her life without a trace, Brandy found herself growing more and more angry. 

Ugh! Brandy threw the paper across the room in a rage.

Granny Ivy looked up at her. What’s happened, my dear?

There was no point in keeping it from her. Elmer’s gone, Brandy said, her head dipping low, He vanished while on a work assignment.

At first, their little home was filled with silence. Granny closed her book and sighed softly, her head dipping. Brandy couldn’t look at her. She didn’t know whether she wanted to rage or cry from frustration. 

Why, Granny? The young woman’s voice came out soft and sad. Why do they all leave?

Brandy turned to stare out the window, and though her eyes looked out over her small, seaside village, she did not see what was in front of her. She was thinking about all the things that she had dreamed of as a child. Ever since she was young, Brandy had dreamed of being a bride, a wife to a good man, and a mother to many children. She wanted to keep house in a cottage in the glenn and spend her days caring for her family.

But those dreams always seemed to vanish from her every time a new lover went missing. And it was getting harder and harder to hold on to hope.

When Brandy turned back to her grandmother, she saw Granny Ivy’s face twisted up, and the old woman was bitting her lips. Brandy had meant the question to be rhetorical, but it seemed that her grandmother was desperately trying not to speak. 

Am I always going to be this unlucky in love? Brandy said, tears in her eyes.

And finally, Granny Ivy burst out with the secret that she had been hiding for all of Brandy’s life.

You’re cursed! She said.

Brandy rolled her eyes. It sure feels like I am cursed.

No, my dear, I am serious. Granny reached out and Brandy moved close enough to reach her. You were cursed as a babe.

What are you talking about? Brandy asked. She wanted to scoff at her grandmother, to chalk her words up to the ramblings of an old woman. There were no such things as curses.

I should have told you years ago, Granny Icy said, her face twisted with sadness, It happened when you were only two years old. It was a wicked neighbor of mine, and she cursed you for getting into her primroses. 

Granny...

I am serious, my darling girl. Ivy reached out and cupped Brandy’s hand. She cursed you because she loved those flowers, and she wanted every man that loved you to be taken just like her flowers were.

Brandy looked away, and she sat in quiet contemplation. The longer she thought, the more she wondered if it could really be true. Could she have been cursed? Or was Granny just telling another tall tale?

But... but...

I should have told you before, Granny Ivy said.

But, there are no such thing as curses, Brandy said, looking at her grandmother with bewilderment. 

If only that were true.

Brandy stood and began to walk around the room, pacing back and forth in the little distance that she had. Her hands wrung