Feature + Excerpt: The Cursed Series - Vilma Iris | Lifestyle Blogger

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Feature + Excerpt: The Cursed Series
By Rebecca Donovan

Feature + Excerpt: The Cursed Series

Coming this week are the final two parts of The Cursed Series by Rebecca Donovan. The story is a thrilling and tangled mystery that questions the lengths some will go to protect the truth…or expose it. Who do you trust when everyone is lying?

Parts 1 & 2  are available now and with Parts 3 & 4 coming tomorrow, it’s the perfect time to dive in to the series. To celebrate the release of these latest installments, I asked Rebecca to share her inspiration for the series, plus, you can read an excerpt from Parts 1 & 2 to get you started!


  • From Rebecca Donovan

    I wanted to tell a story about a girl who didn’t believe… in love, in trust and sometimes, in people. Before she could find her way to a place where she could believe, I needed to explain what made this girl who she is – from where her cynicism, anger and defensiveness originated. Making this story much more complicated and involving many more characters. Inspired by fairytales, I created a twisted web of lies and secrets that begins long before the girl was born. Inspired by a personal event in my life, The Cursed Series is how I chose to share my story while honoring those who are unable to tell their own.

  • About The Cursed Series

    From the bestselling author of The Breathing Series comes a suspenseful and powerful story that will keep you guessing and leave you speechless – unveiling secrets that deserve to be heard.

    “Trust no oneEveryone lies. You can only save yourself.”

    The sole witness to a horrible crime, Lana’s forced to make an impossible choice to protect her friends at the risk of letting a monster walk free. The coverup gets her sent to a boarding school for delinquents, where everyone has something to hide. And one of them is determined to break her silence.

    Lana Peri doesn’t believe in love. Or happy endings. But she does believe everyone’s cursed: possessed with a virtue that will ultimately lead to their demise. Cursed with Honesty, Lana must decide if the truth will help save the girl lying in a coma or if it’s fated to destroy them all.

  • Read an Excerpt

    My mother isn’t inept, but she’s not responsible either. We looked out for each other. She calms me when I can’t see beyond my own rage, which is usually incited by someone who hurt her. And I do everything I can to keep her from being hurt.

    Now she’s hurting, and I’m stuck here, unable to help her. She can’t hear me telling her she’s so much better than half the people in her life. That they don’t deserve her kindness or forgiveness. That I wish she didn’t believe so easily. And she in return would say that she wishes I would trust more. That I should allow more people in so they can experience how caring and loving I truly am. I would then shrug off her words, allowing the anger to grow until it billows out and I end up in a fight with someone who says the wrong thing, or takes advantage of space that doesn’t belong to them, or touches a part of me no one has a right to touch.

    My mother would be waiting for me with an ice pack and a sorrowful expression. But never a lecture about how disappointed she is. She doesn’t need to. Her eyes tell me more than that. They tell me she blames herself for who I’ve become. It only makes me angrier. Because I’m not her fault.

    I wish I were home with her, because right now, I need her as much as she needs me.

    The heaviness of the storm swirling inside me turns volatile quickly. I let out a growling scream of frustration and tear the mountain of decorative pillows from the bed and fling them across the room.

    “I don’t belong here!”

    I collapse on the bed and scream into a pillow at the top of my lungs. I keep screaming until there isn’t any air left and the sound chokes out of me.

    A knock draws my attention. “Lana?” Ashton calls from the other side. “Can I come in?”

    I swipe the tears from my cheeks and let out a long breath to collect myself.

    There’s a woeful look on Ashton’s face when she enters, and before I know what’s happening, she’s bending over and wrapping her arms around me. She practically suffocates me within her fierce hug, my face pressed into the sharp angles of her shoulder. I’m too shocked to do anything but stand there with my arms dangling limply by my sides. When it’s obvious she doesn’t plan on letting go, I hug her back.

    “My heart needed that,” Ashton tells me with a warm smile when she eventually releases me. “Thank you.”

    How does a person respond to that? Then again, who says things like that?

    “Uh, sure. No problem.”

    “And if you ever need to scream again, and I mean really scream, I have the perfect place. So just let me know, okay?”

    I blink. “You have a screaming spot?”

    “Everyone should have a screaming spot.”

    I smile. “Thanks. I may need it … a lot.”

    “Then let’s go now.” Before I can react, she’s pulling me out the door and down the hall.

    Ashton doesn’t ask what’s wrong, or if I want to talk. I think she’s so used to hiding her truth from the world, that she feels she doesn’t have a right to ask another person theirs. And for someone who is so careful with the truth, it makes me sad for her, to be so lost in a contrived life. She’s learning, in her own quirky ways, to interact honestly. It explains her riddling comments and bouts of candor; she’s trying to let the world see her, underneath all of the glamour and beauty. And that’s when it occurs to me, her curse is Authenticity. And maybe that’s why I instantly felt connected with her, even if she is strange. We both seek the same thing, to be honest with who we are. I just hope I’m not forced to witness her destruction when her curse comes for her.

    When we reach the foyer, we go through the doors of the main entry—that I have yet to use. We descend the stone steps and cross the gravel drive that encircles the ring of buildings.

    A large field stretches out before us until it suddenly falls away. All I can see beyond that is water.

    “It’s Blackwood Lake. The same lake Lily’s and Stefan’s houses are on. Except they’re farther north,” she tells me. “In Kingston, everyone either lives on the lake side or the mountain side, with downtown in the middle. We are, obviously, on the lake side.”

    I carefully lower onto the slab, focused on my feet, fearing the slightest misstep will cause me to fall to my death. I glance up to find Ashton. There’s a slight breeze off the water, causing wisps of her hair to float around her head.

    “This is Screaming Point.”

    “That’s what it’s called?”

    “It is now. As of today. Because it’s what we need it to be.” She takes my hand. “Ready?”

    I look out at the dwindling light dancing on the dark surface like the lake is capturing every last bit of the sun before it disappears. I close my eyes and find that place inside that is always angry. That hates my curse. That needs Allie to live. And Vic to burn. That wants to hurt every man who has ever broken my mother’s heart. Or touched what wasn’t theirs. And every person who has ever lied when they claimed to love. I don’t have to search for long, because it’s always there, waiting to explode.

    I open my eyes to look into Ashton’s sapphire blue ones, and nod.

    We face the water and inhale deeply, giving our anger, frustration and sadness a breath of life before we unleash it onto the world in the most powerful scream that’s ever been launched from this cliff. And it’s freeing. More than I ever thought possible. I allow my heartache to take flight, releasing it into the setting sun to be dragged down beneath the horizon.

    And what’s left when there aren’t any more screams to give is a radiant smile. Ashton and I face each other, our hands still clasped, and we start laughing. It’s a true, bonding laughter because we just shared something sacred. If anyone were to witness it, they would think we’re insane. And maybe it’s that crazy within each of us that makes the laughter louder and deeper until I have to wipe away the tears creeping out the corners of my eyes.

    “Thank you, Ashton,” I tell her as we start back across the field. “My soul needed that.”




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This post contains affiliate links, meaning I’ll receive a small commission should you purchase using those links. All opinions expressed are my own. I receive no compensation for reviews.

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