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Cursed AF
AITA for raising hell (literally), snatching a few souls, breaking some unspoken magical laws, oh and maybe pissing off every supernatural creature around because I now have seven days to kill whoever cursed me—or die trying?
Look, I (30ish, F, Total Kickass) and maybe Queen of bad decisions was retired, okay? Well, kinda retired. I mean, I was living the quiet life. No more late night exorcisms. No more magically resurrecting grandma because the family forgot where she hid the will. Just me enjoying some premium dwarven whiskey while teaching my apprentice new skills.
But no, I had to take one last job. It went haywire and surprise—someone cursed me. Real original.
Now, suddenly every fae, witch, shifter, and vampire I’ve ever pissed off (which, let’s be real, is most of them) is crawling outta the shadows to make my life worse. Next thing I know, I’ve got seven days and nights to track down the magical jackass responsible, reverse the curse, or go out in a blaze of undead glory. My magic’s sputtering, my enemies are circling, and I’m 97% sure one of the fae courts wants my skull as a paperweight (Probably the Court of Fire because you know… him.)
Apologies? Nope. Peace talks? Try again. I’m solving this the old-fashioned chaos, cursing (the verbal kind), and probably a high body count.
I’m just saying… never piss off a necro.
TL; Semi-retired necromancer. Fully cursed. Unhinged. Out of patience. Probably the asshole. Still not dying quietly.
Look, I (30ish, F, Total Kickass) and maybe Queen of bad decisions was retired, okay? Well, kinda retired. I mean, I was living the quiet life. No more late night exorcisms. No more magically resurrecting grandma because the family forgot where she hid the will. Just me enjoying some premium dwarven whiskey while teaching my apprentice new skills.
But no, I had to take one last job. It went haywire and surprise—someone cursed me. Real original.
Now, suddenly every fae, witch, shifter, and vampire I’ve ever pissed off (which, let’s be real, is most of them) is crawling outta the shadows to make my life worse. Next thing I know, I’ve got seven days and nights to track down the magical jackass responsible, reverse the curse, or go out in a blaze of undead glory. My magic’s sputtering, my enemies are circling, and I’m 97% sure one of the fae courts wants my skull as a paperweight (Probably the Court of Fire because you know… him.)
Apologies? Nope. Peace talks? Try again. I’m solving this the old-fashioned chaos, cursing (the verbal kind), and probably a high body count.
I’m just saying… never piss off a necro.
TL; Semi-retired necromancer. Fully cursed. Unhinged. Out of patience. Probably the asshole. Still not dying quietly.
323 pages, Kindle Edition
Published May 16, 2025
2 people want to read
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