The Curse Keepers: Ellie Lancaster

Book 1: The Curse Keepers

by D.G. Swank, Denise Grover Swank

Genres: Contemporary Fantasy; New Adult & College; Paranormal Romance

Synopsis

When the keepers meet for the first time, the gate will be opened.

Two little rules have kept me safe since my mother died protecting me: always trust your instincts and forget everything about the curse.

But when I accidentally activate an ancient catastrophe I’ve spent my life running from, breaking the seal on the gates of hell and ripping the lost colony of Roanoke back through time and getting the attention of a vengeful god in the process, rules go out the window.

I can barely keep myself alive, and now somehow, it’s my responsibility to save all of humanity?

We’re screwed.

My only hope is to learn everything I can—everything I should have already known—from my fellow Curse Keeper—Collin-effing-Daily. Collin can lay on the charm when he wants to, but he’s made it clear he’s not happy I’m a novice at all of this. Unfortunately, I feel a pull to him I can’t chalk up to supernatural powers. My instincts beg me not to trust Collin, but I’m out of other options.

We have seven days to save the world, and the clock starts now.

 

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Release date: October 10, 2023

Publisher: DGS

Print pages: 375

Sample

CHAPTER 1

The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew he was trouble.

He stood in the doorway of the New Moon restaurant, filling the space with his tall, muscular frame and sucking the air from the room. Literally. As I focused on inflating my chest with the limited air supply, I tried to ignore the warning bells ringing in my head.

Always listen to your instincts.

My instincts had been honed by years of working as a waitress in a tourist town. You learn a lot about people from working with the public.

From the end of May until the first of September every year, my hometown of Manteo on Roanoke Island, North Carolina, was overrun with tourists. They came to enjoy our quaint little town but mostly to see the alleged site of the first English colony to have settled in North America, the Lost Colony of Roanoke. Everyone had a theory about what had become of the colony that had settled on the Roanoke Island shores over four hundred years ago, from a massacre by neighboring Native American tribes to alien abduction. My family had their own take on what happened. A version my father used to push on me before I convinced myself it was just a myth—the kind of story that gets passed down from generation to generation, exaggerated each time. I’d forgotten most of it, except for the very basics, and I tried not to think about those when I could help it.

The late lunch crowd was clearing out, so it was that rare period in the summer when we got a breather before dinner. My co-worker Marlena seated the guy in her section, although I could tell she did so grudgingly. Old habits were hard to kick, and she’d always tried to fix me up with any man who walked in the door without a wedding ring.

I nearly groaned when I realized that I’d checked.

The no-air situation became worse. I hurried out the back door and leaned against the building, gulping deep breaths as the bricks pricked my arm. How can I be having an asthma attack? I don’t even have asthma. I’d never experienced anything like this before. No matter how much air I sucked into my lungs, I still felt short of breath.

After about five minutes, I got control of my panic and made myself go back inside.

Marlena had already taken the guy’s order, and he sat brooding over a beer, staring out the window at the tourist-filled street. I only had two tables left, and Marlena had rung both of them out while I was hiding out back. With nothing to do for the moment, I picked up a towel and wiped the bar counter in tiny, mindless circles. My chest felt tight, but my breathing was manageable. I must be coming down with a sudden summer cold. Finding a rational explanation helped settle my frayed nerves. Slightly.

“You rub that spot any more and you’re liable to wear a hole right through it.” Marlena winked. She seemed to be breathing without any problem whatsoever. “Someone got you shook up?”

I shot her a scowl, then looked around the small restaurant. No one else seemed to be having issues either. Except for the guy Marlena had seated. His chest rose and fell at a slow, even pace, as if he were concentrating on the movement.

A small part of the back of my brain screamed that it knew what was going on—that it wasn’t just weird but uncanny. My mind fluttered back to my father’s story about our family heritage—the curse—which he claimed went all the way back to our ancestor, a citizen of the Lost Colony.

I hushed it. Maybe I’d developed late-in-life allergies or a summer cold.

“No,” I said to Marlena

“Then good. I’m due for a break and the only one left in my station is that one.” She shot a thumb in his direction. “You won’t mind finishing up Mr. Hottie for me.”

I knew I’d gotten off too easy with her putting him in her own section. Shaking my head, I turned my back to the dining room, just as I saw the man give me a quick glance. “Nope. No way. He just sat down, and he hasn’t even ordered his food yet. You take his order, then take your break.”

“He doesn’t want any food, just the beer.” Raising her eyebrows, she lowered her face to mine. “He’s a fine-lookin’ man close to your age, and he’s been eyeing you since he walked in the door.”

“That’s what worries me.” But truth be told, that wasn’t all that had me concerned. My difficulty breathing worried me. So did the creeping sensation that this guy had some significance to me other than being attractive. The sooner “Mr. Hottie” walked out the door, the better.

Marlena nudged me with her shoulder. “You should give him your number, Ellie.”

My mouth gaped, but I quickly shut it, glaring. “I’m not giving him my number! I don’t even know him. Besides, I’m dating Dwight. And tonight is date number five. It’s the night.” I really needed tonight to be the night.

“Dwight the insurance adjuster from Michigan? You’re still dating him?” Marlena crossed her arms over her ample breasts and shot me a stern look. Marlena was an intimidating woman, standing nearly six feet tall with the body of a small linebacker. When she put on that stern look, most people cowered in fear. Unfortunately for her, I’d learned she was mostly bark. But she still scared me a bit. I’d just tried not to let her know it.

I put a hand on my hip and tilted my head in defiance. “Of course I’m still dating him. Why wouldn’t I be?”

To my surprise, Marlena refrained from commenting on my tumultuous dating history, despite the fact that she’d been forced to endure four years of listening to me complain. Sometimes in excruciating detail. Releasing a sigh, she put her palm on the counter and leaned forward. “Look, sweetie…”

I groaned, rolling my eyes. Every time she uttered “Look, sweetie,” I knew a lecture was coming.

Her mouth puckered in disapproval as she pointed a finger in my face. “Don’t you be rolling your eyes at me, Miss Elinor Dare Lancaster. You respect

your elders.”

I’d heard that before too.

“I know good and well that Dwight’s here on a temporary assignment. Which means he’ll be leaving soon, and you’ll be all alone.”

“So?”

“So, give that warm-blooded American man over there a chance, Ellie.”

“Dwight’s American,” I said dryly. But I couldn’t stop myself from shooting a glance at the customer at table five. He took a sip of his beer and continued watching the crowd outside the window. His short-sleeved T-shirt showed off his muscular arms—not solid enough to make him look like a bodybuilder but plenty big enough to show that he was a man accustomed to working with his hands. Suddenly, my mind took a detour to forbidden territory, thinking about what he might do with those hands. I shook my head to snap out of my stupor. I hadn’t slept with Dwight yet, and it had been a long time since I’d slept with anyone. My defenses were weakening. I wasn’t entirely immune to an attractive guy.

Sighing, I shook my head. “For all you know, he’s a tourist, so what makes him any different than Dwight?”

Marlena grinned. “He’s ten times better looking, for starters.” She thrust his bill into my hands. “You’ll thank me for this later. Now, go.” Turning with a laugh, she walked out the back door, pausing only to call into the kitchen, “I’ll be back in fifteen, Fred.”

I studied the dining room after she left. People at the restaurant often lingered at their tables, seeking an air-conditioning refuge from the humid heat outside, but only two of the twenty tables were currently occupied—the table where the man I’d tried to avoid for the last fifteen minutes sat, and a table with an older couple in my section. The couple, obviously tourists based on the camera sitting on their table and their “Outer Banks” T-shirts, had already rung out with Marlena. They were studying pamphlets while discussing where to go next. Their glasses were still half full, but I grabbed a pitcher of sweet tea and Marlena’s bill folder for the hot guy and stopped at their table first. “Would you like a refill?”

The woman smiled,

pulling her reading glasses off her nose. “Oh, no, honey. We were about to leave.”

“Y’all are welcome to stay as long as you like,” I said, shifting my weight as I tried to calm my increasing anxiety. I was getting light-headed again, fighting the urge to gasp for air. The man and woman in front of me seemed perfectly fine.

Oh, God. What if the things my father had told me about the curse were true?

No. The curse was a fairy tale. Maybe I had pulmonary embolism. That was a better alternative to the curse being real.

“No need to hurry off.”

If they left, I’d be alone in the dining room with the stranger. Sure, Fred was in the back, but little good that would do me.

The older gentleman stood and grabbed his backpack. “Thanks for the beer recommendation earlier. That was the best draft ale I’ve had in a long time.”

“You’re welcome,” I forced out with a smile, my heart racing as they headed for the door. “Thanks for coming in. Have a great day.”

They waved as they walked out into the summer heat, and I turned to table five, trying to force air into my lungs. This is stupid. He’s just some guy. Give him his ticket, he’ll leave, and that will be that. This has nothing to do with him.

But I knew he was different. Deep down in the pit of my soul. One of the few things I remembered from Daddy’s story about the curse floated into memory, begging for attention. My shoe caught on the edge of a table foot, and I stumbled, sloshing tea over the side of the pitcher and onto a nearby table.

What in the hell was wrong with me?

The man turned his face to watch me. His dark eyes burned into mine. Marlena was right. Up close, I could see he was an extremely good-looking man. His dark hair was closely trimmed, and stubble covered his face, like he’d forgotten to shave for a few days. But the dark circles under his eyes gave him a weary look. He clutched his beer bottle, his knuckles white, as though he was more nervous than his expression suggested.

An alarm rang in my head, my instincts pinging every nerve along my spine. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I knew I needed him to leave. Now.

I set the pitcher on the sticky table and forced myself to take two steps toward him. The hair on my arms stood on end as though I’d become electrically charged.

What the hell?

The man’s eyes widened,

his lips parting slightly.

I thrust the bill folder toward him from several feet away and flopped it on the table with a dull thud. “You can pay whenever you’re ready,” I said in a rasp, the air sticking in my throat even more than before. My panic rose, but I stomped it down, frustrated that I was still paranoid about the curse after all of these years.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the barest hint of a smile, giving him a ruggedly handsome look. I was sure most women around the world would have swooned at the sight. I, on the other hand, was close to passing out from lack of oxygen.

His chest rose and fell in heavy gasps. He was having a hard time breathing as well. It should have made me feel better. Instead, it made my near-hysteria worse. Something was wrong—badly wrong. I wasn’t unappealing, but I knew our labored breathing extended from something other than attraction.

Don’t let him touch you.

I took two steps back and put a hand over my heart. Maybe we were suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning. Could you get that from air conditioning? There had to be some logical explanation for what was happening to me. Happening to us.

Something other than the warning my father had given me years ago.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and hastily removed some cash, tossing it onto the table. The hair on his arms stood on end.

My eyes widened in fear as he got to his feet. He took a step toward me and stopped as I backed into a different table, my body wedging between the chairs

His dark, almost black, eyes held my gaze. “I didn’t catch your name.” His breath escaped in short bursts.

Whatever was happening to me was also happening to him.

My face tingled from lack of oxygen, and I felt dangerously close to passing out. The closer he came toward me, the more difficult it was to breathe. I knew I should move away from him, but everything around me seemed to slow, and I couldn’t seem to get my muscles to work. Not to mention I was trapped by the table and two chairs on either side of me. The hair on my head felt electrified. “I didn’t give it.” My words came out slurred.

His face had paled, and his eyes moved to my name tag. He grinned, but it wasn’t friendly. “Thank you, Ellie.” My name sounded like the answer to a riddle on his lips. “Until next time.”

He started to walk away, then stopped, spinning around and grabbing my right hand with his, as though he meant to shake my hand. An electrical shock ran from my palm into my chest.

For one brief moment, the entire world seemed magnified and microscopic all at once. The space around me faded, and I was no longer me. I was the waves in the sound off the pier and the clouds in the sky. I was an ant outside on the parking lot. I was part of every tree on the street.

Before I could marvel at the vast connectedness of the universe, I felt a tear in the veil separating the earthly world from the spiritual, and the screams of hundreds of beings—ugly and foul—filled my head.

The man’s mouth opened, and he dropped his hold with a start. Stumbling backward, he hurried out the door, not even casting a backward glance.

My lungs expanded, as though some invisible band around my chest had burst loose. I sank into a nearby chair and sucked in gasps of air. My head spun as I grappled to make sense of what had just happened. Maybe I’d been poisoned. Or drugged. People didn’t sense bugs or plants. People didn’t feel like they were one with the water a hundred feet away. Then again, my memories of the curse were splotchy at best. Maybe that was part of it, and I’d forgotten, just like I’d forgotten almost everything else. My therapist from years back blamed my memory loss on childhood trauma. And why when my father had tried to reteach me his stories, they’d slipped through my head like water through sand.

The door creaked, and I jumped out of the seat, worried that he’d returned. Instead, a young family entered the restaurant. The mother pulled off her sunglasses and squinted at my startled reaction. I forced a smile and snatched up the pitcher off the nearby table. “Welcome to the New Moon. You all can take a seat wherever you’d like. I’ll be right with you.”

I hurried to the back and washed the now dried, sticky tea from my hand, trying to calm down. Never in my twenty-three years had I experienced anything like that. Yet part of the story Daddy had recited since before I could talk echoed in my head.

My palm tingled and I glanced down at my hand, gasping at the faint pink mark I saw there—but that wasn’t all. The outline of a square surrounding a circle, their lines intersecting, covered my palm.

Suddenly a vivid memory burst into my head, my father’s solemn words

when he’d told me years ago, “When the two Keepers meet for the first time, the seam separating the spirit world and our world will be ripped apart and the gate will be opened. Your chest will tighten, and you’ll have a hard time catching your breath. It will be as though the very air you breathe is sucked out of you. It is. The Keepers watch over the seam dividing the worlds. They alone will feel the tear. That is when the curse will be broken. Then God help us all.” He’d taken my hand in his and held my gaze. “Ellie, once the mark of the Keeper appears, you have until the beginning of the seventh day to make things right.”

Oh shit.

I had to talk to Daddy.

 

CHAPTER 2

 

Within minutes of the man running out the door, another rush hit the restaurant—as though he’d been keeping everyone away.

I had to keep working, and the longer I did, the more I was able to convince myself it was a freak coincidence that my father’s warning about the curse matched up with what had just happened. I’d had some kind of breathing episode exacerbated by my overactive imagination.

The curse was make-believe and nonsense.

Still, the incident had stirred something deep inside of me, setting me on edge and making me clumsy the rest of the afternoon. What the hell had I experienced when he touched my hand? And how did I explain the scorch mark on my palm and the thing that looked like a tattoo? I’d tried scrubbing it off, and nothing had worked.

“What’s gotten into you and, more importantly, why are you still here?” Marlena asked, while I was washing my hands in the prep sink for what had to be the twentieth time. “You tryin’ to get out of your date with Dweeb tonight?”

Her question shook me out of my funk. I’d forgotten all about my date. I forced a scowl. “Dwight.” I rolled my eyes. “And no, I’m not. If anything, I’m late for my shift at the inn. But I can’t leave because I’m covering for Lila. She had to run up to Norfolk.”

Marlena tsked. “That’s twice in two weeks that girl’s sloughed off her shift.” She snagged my shirt and pulled me backward, untying my apron. “Barb’s here. We can handle things until Lila gets in. You have to get ready to see Dagwood.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. Still, I felt morally beholden to correct her. “Dwight…and I thought you didn’t like him.”

Marlena shrugged with a grin that told me she was up to no good. “You said this was date five. Your men don’t make it much longer than that. The sooner Dwayne is gone, the sooner you’ll be free to hook up with someone like Mr. Hottie.”

With a sigh, I stripped my apron off over my head and tossed it into a hamper. “His name is Dwight, and things are different with him. He’s got a job with State Farm. He’s stable.” I grabbed my purse out of a drawer in the back room and stared at her, raising my eyebrows and daring her to contradict me.

Marlena placed her hand on the doorjamb to the back door, barring my exit. “Oh, he’s stable all right. He’s so full of stability that he’ll suck the life out of ya.”

My heart thudded against my chest. Going out with Dwight was nothing like having the life sucked out of me. I’d had the life sucked out of me on two prior occasions. The first was figurative and had happened when my mother was killed. I didn’t care to dwell on that memory. The second had happened this afternoon and was quite literal.

I’ll take stability, thank you very much.

I stood in front of Marlena’s beefy arms and waited for her to move, giving her a look of impatience.

She lowered her voice. “I care about you, Ellie. You’re a sweet girl. You deserve better than the boring guys you date. You’re young. You need some excitement. Live a little.”

“I live plenty, and I happen to like dependable guys.” At least for about five dates until I broke up with them.

“If you like them so much, than how come you go through them like Kleenex?” She dropped her arm and brushed past me before I could respond.

Scowling, I pushed

the back door open and stormed out into the humid North Carolina afternoon summer heat. I was late for my second job, helping my stepmother Myra at the bed and breakfast she and my father owned. I usually showed up around 3:30, but it was well past four. I considered stopping by my apartment and changing first but realized I didn’t have time if I wanted to finish at the Dare Inn and get home in time to shower before my date. Dwight was supposed to pick me up just before seven.

The great thing about living in downtown Manteo was that everything was within walking distance. My parents’ B&B was only four blocks from the restaurant where I worked, and my apartment was in the alley behind the restaurant. If a grocery store opened up downtown, I’d hardly have to drive at all, especially since I rarely left Roanoke Island. Good thing too since I drove a rust-bucket piece of crap.

Although it was a short walk to the inn, it gave me plenty of time to work myself up into a nervous ball of anxiety. My encounter with the guy at the New Moon had shaken me, no way around it. I wanted to chalk it up to my overactive imagination—to anything but the curse. I was halfway to believing it was all in my head—except for the tiny little fact that he’d had a hard time breathing too. And then there was the undeniable scorch mark on my palm. I stared down at the shapes on my hand. Had they gotten darker?

I must have set my hand on wet paper or a soggy cardboard box. The ink bled onto my palm, that’s all. And the hallucination I’d had could be marked off as stress.

Even so, I would have felt better if Marlena or the older couple had also struggled to breathe…

But I wasn’t ready to believe it was something paranormal. My hope was that my dad was having a lucid day and/or my stepmother Myra could help me find a reasonable explanation for it all.

I’d worked up a sweat by the time I walked in the back door of the inn. Myra was on the phone in the small office, but she gave me a soft smile. My job in the late afternoon was fairly simple: I set out snacks for the guests and hung around to answer questions and play concierge. That, and I folded towels. I was late enough that Myra had already set out the fruit, cheese and crackers, and a bottle of wine.

An older couple sat on a leather sofa in the living area, huddled over an open map.

“Hi.” I walked into the common room, suddenly worried I might have some telltale

stains from the restaurant on my clothes or face. Too late to worry about that now. “Need any help with directions?”

They looked up, and I recognized them from earlier that afternoon. They were the couple in the restaurant who’d left me alone with the guy. My stomach flipped with nerves.

The man smiled and patted his knee. “Weren’t you our waitress this afternoon?”

I leaned my hip into the chair across from them, forcing a smile of my own. “Sure enough. My parents own Dare Inn, so I help in the mornings and afternoons.”

“I love your little town. ...