The Heirloom’s Curse: Bloodlines Entwined, #1

By Vivienne Garrison

Unearth the shadows of the past in 'The Heirloom's Curse,' the first riveting installment of the 'Bloodlines Entwined' series. Join genealogist Sarah Montclair and detective Luke Garrison as they unravel a centuries-old family mystery rooted in the heart of Victorian New England. From the haunted halls of the Hawthorne estate to the depths of ancestral secrets, Sarah and Luke's journey is a testament to love, courage, and the enduring power of legacy. Amidst ancient curses and forbidden romance, will they break the chains of the past, or will history's dark truths consume them? Dive into a world where the line between the historical and the supernatural blurs, and discover the price of uncovering what's been buried for generations. 'The Heirloom's Curse' promises a tale of passion, mystery, and redemption. Perfect for fans of Gothic romance, detective thrillers, and genealogical mysteries.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cipher Crest Publishing
• Release date: Mar 23, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224504572

Book preview

The Heirloom’s Curse

Bloodlines Entwined Book One

Mystery Romance Books

Vivienne Garrison

Copyright © 2024 by Vivienne Garrison.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 1

Unsettling Invitation

T

he evening air in New England carried a chill that seeped through the cracks of the ancient Hawthorne estate, wrapping its cold fingers around the manor as if to unearth its secrets. Within the attic, under the dim glow of a single desk lamp, Sarah Montclair, a genealogist known for her ability to unravel the threads of the past, pored over centuries-old documents. Her green eyes, reflecting the lamp’s light, danced across pages filled with names and dates, tracing the lineage of the Hawthornes with a mixture of reverence and curiosity.

The Hawthorne estate, with its sprawling grounds and Gothic architecture, had stood as a silent witness to generations of triumphs and tragedies. Its walls, thick with the passage of time, harbored whispers of a cursed lineage—a mystery that had now fallen into Sarah’s capable hands. Engrossed in her research, she scarcely noticed the passage of time, the outside world fading to nothing more than the backdrop to the family’s storied history.

A sharp knock at the door shattered the silence, startling Sarah from her thoughts. The clock on the wall, its pendulum swinging with an almost accusatory precision, indicated it was well past midnight. With a mixture of confusion and caution, she made her way down the grand staircase, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the empty hallways.

The estate’s heavy front door swung open to reveal Detective Luke Garrison, his presence an anomaly against the backdrop of the quiet night. His sharp, steel-blue eyes scanned Sarah with an intensity that matched the seriousness of his tone.

Miss Montclair, I presume? Detective Garrison. My apologies for the late hour, but it seems our interests may align regarding the Hawthorne estate, he said, his voice carrying a weight that hinted at more than just a casual visit.

Sarah, taken aback by the unexpected visit, replied, Detective, at this hour? What could be so urgent?

I’ve come across something... peculiar in my investigations nearby. Artifacts and a letter were found on the estate’s grounds. They might interest you, Luke explained, producing a small, leather-bound notebook and a series of photographs from his coat pocket.

The photographs, illuminated by the soft light from the foyer, depicted objects that seemed out of place with the modern world—artifacts that whispered of the estate’s ancient past. Among them, a letter, its edges worn by time, bore the Hawthorne seal.

As Sarah and Luke retreated to the drawing room, laying the photographs out on the mahogany table, the storm outside seemed to gather strength, as if protesting the unearthing of the estate’s secrets. Lightning illuminated the room, casting long shadows that played across the walls, giving life to the Hawthorne ancestors whose portraits hung there.

We’re dealing with a mystery that goes beyond simple burglaries or coincidences. These items... they’re tied to the Hawthorne family’s history, even to the curse itself, Luke said, his gaze meeting Sarah’s.

Sarah, her curiosity piqued, leaned in closer, her mind racing to piece together the puzzle that was the Hawthorne legacy. This letter, speaks of a secret buried with the Hawthorne patriarch, a secret tied to the disappearance of an ancient family heirloom.

As the storm raged on, the unlikely duo found themselves delving deeper into the discussion, the artifacts and letters between them serving as a bridge between the living and the dead. The night, with all its shadows and whispers, seemed to listen in, eager for the secrets that were about to be unraveled.

The partnership between Sarah and Luke, one born out of necessity and fueled by mutual interest in the Hawthorne mystery, was solidified in the glow of the drawing room’s fireplace. Outside, the storm continued to howl, a tempestuous symphony that mirrored the turmoil that lay ahead. But within the walls of the Hawthorne estate, a resolve was formed—together, they would shed light on the darkness that had enshrouded the family for centuries.

As the clock struck three, marking the arrival of a new day, Sarah and Luke found themselves at the beginning of a journey that would take them into the heart of the Hawthorne curse. The night, with its unsettling invitation, had set the stage for a tale of mystery, heritage, and possibly, redemption.

As the storm outside waned, giving way to a deceptive calm, Sarah and Luke remained ensconced in the drawing room, surrounded by the glow of the fireplace and the weight of history in their hands. The early hours of the morning lent an eerie stillness to the estate, a stark contrast to the tempest of revelations and theories that filled the room.

Sarah, with a researcher’s meticulousness, laid out the photographs and the aged letter on the table, her fingers tracing the seal of the Hawthorne family—a symbol of legacy and, perhaps, of a curse that had long shadowed their lineage.

This letter mentions a pact, Sarah started, her voice breaking the silence. Not just any agreement, but one steeped in shadows and secrecy. It speaks of a sacrifice for power, a trade that has bound the Hawthorne family across generations.

Luke, leaning forward, examined the letter’s contents, his detective instincts kicking in. Sacrifice? That’s a heavy word. Do you think this is what led to the series of tragedies in the family? An ancestral debt being paid?

Sarah nodded, her gaze fixed on the letter. Yes, and I believe this heirloom mentioned here, she pointed to a faded illustration in the letter, is key. It’s not a family treasure; it’s a totem of their pact, the source of the curse.

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the grandfather clock chiming, marking the passage of time in the stillness. Luke shuffled the photographs, aligning them with the notes they had made.

So, where does this leave us? he asked, his skepticism mingled with a growing curiosity. Do we go digging for this heirloom, or is there more to uncover first?

Sarah leaned back, considering. First, we need to understand the nature of this pact. Who were the Hawthornes dealing with? And what was the sacrifice? The answers lie in the estate’s history, in the very walls that surround us.

Luke rubbed his chin, deep in thought. If we’re dealing with something... supernatural, how do we even begin to tackle this? I’m a man of evidence and facts, Sarah. This, he gestured to the letter and photographs, is beyond my usual beat.

Sarah smiled slightly, her confidence unwavering. We use what we have—your investigative skills and my knowledge of genealogy. Together, we piece together the story, find the heirloom, and understand the pact. That’s our best shot.

Their plan of action decided, and they began to organize the documents, each piece a fragment of the larger mystery. As they worked, their conversation flowed more freely, bridging the gap between the detective’s world of tangible evidence and the genealogist’s realm of ancestral secrets.

Have you encountered anything like this in your line of work before? Luke inquired, genuinely interested in Sarah’s expertise.

Legends, yes. Curses, in a manner of speaking. Families often have dark secrets and tragedies that repeat across generations. But an actual pact with... whatever this is? It’s a first for me too, Sarah confessed, her intrigue matching Luke’s.

And you’re not scared? Luke asked, his gaze meeting hers.

Terrified, Sarah admitted with a half-smile. But more than that, I’m driven. We have a chance to right a centuries-old wrong, Luke. Fear won’t stop me from trying.

Luke nodded, impressed by her resolve. Then we’re in this together. Whatever it takes, we’ll uncover the truth behind the Hawthorne curse.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, casting a soft glow on their makeshift workstation, Sarah and Luke found themselves not just as partners in the investigation but as allies bound by a shared quest. The mystery of the Hawthorne pact, with its shadows and secrets, had brought them together, forging a bond that, like the legacy of the estate, would prove difficult to break.

As morning light pierced the shadows of the Hawthorne estate, Sarah and Luke, armed with their newfound resolve and the cryptic clues unearthed from the night’s revelations, set out toward the estate’s ancient crypt. The crypt, long whispered to be the heart of the Hawthorne curse, stood at the edge of the estate, its entrance cloaked in a thick mist that seemed to swallow the light around it.

Approaching the heavy iron doors, Luke’s hand hovered over the handle, hesitation briefly clouding his features. You sure about this? he asked, turning to Sarah. Whatever we find in there... it might change everything.

Sarah, her determination a stark contrast to the eerie quiet of the morning, nodded. It’s the only way forward. The answers we’re looking for are hidden in the past. This, she gestured to the crypt, is where it all begins.

With a collective breath, they pushed the doors open, the creak of aged iron breaking the silence. The interior of the crypt was shrouded in darkness, save for the faint light from their flashlights cutting through the gloom. Dust motes danced in the beams, and the air was thick with the scent of earth and decay.

I’ve been in my fair share of unpleasant places, Luke muttered, scanning the chamber with his light, but this... this is something else.

The beams of their flashlights settled on an elaborate sarcophagus at the center of the crypt, its surface carved with the Hawthorne crest. Next to it, on a pedestal, lay a collection of ancient manuscripts and a map of the estate as it was centuries ago.

Sarah, drawn to the manuscripts, carefully opened one, her fingers tracing the aged parchment. These are journals, she exclaimed, her voice echoing slightly in the confined space. They belong to the earliest Hawthornes. Look, this entry dates back to the 17th century.

Luke leaned in, his interest piqued despite his initial reluctance. Can you make anything out? Anything about the pact or the heirloom?

As Sarah flipped through the pages, a particular entry caught her eye. Here, she said, pointing. It mentions the heirloom. ‘The heart of our pact with the shadows, sealed by blood and bound to our line. Its guardianship falls to each generation, a burden of power and peril.’

The heart of our pact... Luke repeated, mulling over the words. So, the heirloom isn’t just an object; it’s a symbol of their agreement with... whatever they made this pact with. And it’s bound to the family, generation after generation.

Yes, and there’s more, Sarah continued, her excitement growing as pieces of the puzzle began to fit together. This map shows a part of the estate that’s no longer there, a garden with a structure in the center. It could be where the heirloom was kept, or maybe where the pact was made.

Luke studied the map, his analytical mind piecing together the layout. We need to find this place. If it still exists, it could be the key to understanding how to break the curse.

Their exploration of the crypt revealed more than just the physical remnants of the Hawthorne legacy; it uncovered the depth of the family’s entanglement with the shadows, a binding pact that had dictated their fate for centuries.

As they prepared to leave, a sense of unease settled over Sarah. We’re missing something, she said, her gaze lingering on the sarcophagus. The pact was sealed by blood, according to the journal. There has to be a record of the original ceremony, something that might give us a clue on how to reverse it.

Luke, his hand on the door, paused. Then we keep looking. We’ve come too far to turn back now. Whatever it takes, Sarah, we’re going to uncover the truth.

Stepping out of the crypt, they were met with the light of day, though the shadows of the Hawthorne estate seemed to stretch longer and darker than before. The crypt, with its silent guardians and whispered secrets, had opened the door to a path fraught with danger and discovery.

As they made their way back to the manor, the weight of their task loomed large. The pact with the shadows, the heirloom’s curse, and the lineage bound to it were threads in a complex tapestry they were only beginning to unravel. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, Sarah and Luke moved forward, united by a shared determination to bring light to the Hawthorne darkness, whatever the cost.

Back at the manor, with the crypt’s revelations fresh in their minds, Sarah and Luke spread out the ancient manuscripts and the estate map across the library’s large oak table. The morning light streaming through the windows did little to dispel the chill that had settled in the room, a tangible reminder of the crypt’s lingering presence.

Look at this, Sarah said, pointing to a passage in one of the journals. It describes the ceremony in detail. ‘Under the cloak of night, we bind our fates to the shadows, a pact sealed with the heart’s blood. The heirloom, our family’s guardian and curse.’

Luke, leaning over to read the passage, frowned. Blood? That sounds more like a ritual than a simple agreement. And this heirloom... Do you think it’s still around? Could it be the key to breaking the pact?

It has to be, Sarah replied, her voice laced with conviction. This journal, it’s not just recounting history. It’s a manual, a guide. If we can find the heirloom and understand the original ceremony, we might be able to reverse it.

But reversing something like this... Are we prepared for what that entails? Luke asked, the weight of their discovery evident in his tone. We’re dealing with forces we don’t understand.

Sarah met his gaze, her determination unwavering. We have to try. Think about the generations of Hawthornes affected by this curse. If there’s a chance we can end it, don’t we owe it to them to take it?

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. I suppose you’re right. But where do we even start looking for this heirloom? This estate is massive, and if the garden mentioned in the map no longer exists...

That’s just it, Sarah interjected, tapping the map excitedly. The garden might be gone, but its location isn’t. We find where it used to be, and we’re one step closer to the heirloom.

And you think the heirloom is just lying around waiting for us? Luke asked skeptically.

No, but there must be clues, signs we can follow. This, she gestured to the journal and map, is our starting point.

Luke nodded, the