The Fated #2
by Brenda Drake
Entangled Teen Crave Publication November 21, 2016
There’s something strange about the Layne sisters, and Wade Diaz wants nothing to do with them. Especially the one who ripped his heart out and set it on fire before tossing it in the garbage several months ago. Iris. He can’t even think her name without unconsciously rubbing the spot in his chest where she left a gaping hole. But now her sisters are claiming some evil spirit is after his soul, and Iris is the only one who can save him. Well, at least his heart would stop hurting, right? Didn’t sound so bad. Iris Layne has always been the sweet sister. She’s kind to everyone, including her best friend Wade… Until she makes a horrible mistake and breaks his heart. All she wants is to go back to before ‘the dumping’. Of course, Wade would rather see her in hell first. But then Iris touches her sister’s tarot cards and unleashes an evil curse intent on playing a deadly game where no one Iris loves is safe, especially Wade. How do you convince someone they need your help when you’re the one who hurt them most?
Excerpt from CURSING FATE
Dena and Wade went about tying the boat to the dock. Wade snuck glimpses of Iris as she took off her life jacket. You’re only torturing yourself, Diaz. He shook his head and finished off the knot he was tying. A rope hit him in the face. “Pay attention,” Dena said, towing the rope back to her. “I was,” Wade said, grabbing the other end. Dena shot him a knowing smile. “Not the kind of attention I meant.” When the boat was secured, Dena urged everyone into the cabin, where she opened a bottle of champagne and poured it into five clear plastic cups. The last time Dena and he had champagne, they were celebrating her coming out. Dena’s parents weren’t too pleased with her admission about her preference for girls. Her mother cried and her dad gave her the silent treatment. It wasn’t until Dena’s heart condition knocked her on her ass that they came around. After her surgery to fix a faulty valve, Dena’s parents told her they only wished her happiness. “To Wade,” Dena said, holding up her cup, “congratulations on finishing this boat.” “Congratulations,” Violet and Carys said in unison. Iris rose her cup. “It looks amazing. Cheers.” “That sail is beautiful,” Carys said and slipped into the booth. “It’s from the painting Iris gave you, right? At a birthday or something?” Violet and Dena scooted in next to Carys. “Yeah, she gave it to me on my thirteenth birthday.” Wade leaned against the counter and took a sip of the cheap champagne. Iris leaned close enough to Wade that he could smell her floral shampoo. “You are so talented,” she whispered, her breath tickling his ear and sending a spark through his body. He wished they were alone. He had an intense urge to kiss her. He swallowed a big swig of bubbly. “Look who’s talking. You have mad painting skills.” “So when are you taking your dad out?” she asked. “Halloween morning. He’ll be back this week sometime.” “Oh,” she said. “What about the haunted house? We were going to set up that day.” “Don’t worry.” He brushed her hair away from her cheek and quickly brought his hand back. She leaned away from him, a startled look on her face. Why did I do that? It was as if he were on autopilot. There was no thought behind it. “We’re going early in the morning,” he said, looking down at his cup. Bubbles popped in the golden liquid. “I’ll be over in plenty of time to help out.” “Wade,” she said so quietly the others couldn’t hear her over their own conversation. He looked at her. She touched his arm. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m still Iris. I just made a mistake. I won’t hurt you again.” And then she mouthed, I’m sorry. He wished he could forget, but he hadn’t thought she would hurt him the first time. It was that fact that kept him from giving them another chance.
Brenda Drake grew up the youngest of three children, an Air Force brat, and the continual new kid at school. Her fondest memories growing up are of her eccentric, Irish grandmother’s animated tales, which gave her a strong love for storytelling. So it was only fitting that she would choose to write stories with a bend toward the fantastical. When she’s not writing or hanging out with her family, she haunts libraries, bookstores, and coffee shops, or reads someplace quiet and not at all exotic (much to her disappointment).