The Cursed Princess
by Alexa Michaels
Publication date: October 1st 2021
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy
A fresh and dark urban fantasy abounding with treacherous secrets, desperate fights, and an angsty romances that could ignite the pages.
I’m Kyra Baxter. Once, I was human—now, I learn it’s all a lie.
As the top student at my university and the best intern in Dallas, I thought my life was built in the clouds, and I was on top of the world.
But then…it all crashed hard.
A murdered friend.
A secret world.
A mysterious warrior.
It’s safe to say that the life I thought was solid will never rise from the rubble. It’s time to move on, and live the life I was always meant for–what I was born for. Except there are those who want to make sure that never happens. In fact, if I don’t move quickly, the enemy who I’d been hidden from is coming for blood.
The curse I bear has blocked my memories, so I’m left to blindly navigate this new world. And when a swarthy male saunters into my life, I’m forced to face a ghost from the past without knowing who he is and was, and what he wants.
He says he’s here to help.
He admits he’s keeping secrets.
As our attraction grows, all I know is that if I want to break this curse, I’m going to need his help. And unless I heed the warnings my late friend spent her dying moment’s telling me, everyone I know and love could end up butchered.
This curse could be the death of all those I hold dear.
If you like fierce heroines, powerful heroes, terrible secrets, and slow-burn romances, then read the urban fantasy The Cursed Princess, the first book in the Kyra Baxter Trilogy!
**This is the beginning of a trilogy and ends on a cliffhanger.
***Author’s note: this book is intended for a mature audience in terms of content, language, and passionate happily ever afters!
“You’d better let me go,” I threatened, raising my voice even louder. “My friends are waiting for me to pick them up downstairs. They’ll come looking.”
I clamped down on my shaking muscles and willed myself to stand firm. Snakes of fear slithered in my gut and I tried valiantly not to shake.
“No one is coming, Little Female,” one scoffed. There was a unanimous chuckle from the rest. I had a sinking feeling they knew I was bluffing.
The one who was holding my neck brushed a piece of hair aside and brought his nose down, inhaling right behind my ear. “Richer than the bouquets of the orient—human fear.”
Human. My mind fixated on the word and I tucked it away for later.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy you, Female.”
The hot air from his words sent chills through my body.
“Don’t scare her now,” said the one standing in front of me.
“We just want a little fun,” whined the one who held my arm from behind. “Her flesh will be decadent mixed with all that fear.”
These homeless men were clearly psychotic—they had to be on something. To resort to cannibalism attested to the state of their mental instability. I pushed through the disorientation of the situation and grasped for rational knowledge. “Let me go. Right now!” I demanded, praying that someone would hear me.
That filthy fingernail—for I refused to call it a claw—crawled across the side of my neck. There was a sting of pain as if I had been scratched by a cat. I knew the wound wasn’t deep. It was the infection from the filth that sent my gut churning and it was the last straw. I lifted my foot and slammed the stiletto spike of my high heel into what I hoped was his foot.
I had done it so carefully, making sure that none of them saw. Yet they had moved so fast that the spiked heal of the shoe bit into the concrete of the parking ramp. The contact reverberated through the joints of my ankle and knee. I hissed and tried to ignore the pain. They laughed at me.
“You’ll be sorry,” I promised.
We all knew it was a lie.
Licking his lips, the one in front of me leaned forward.
Fight! I wouldn’t go down without clawing and scratching. It wouldn’t be much, but it would be valiant. I braced for his impact, preparing to slam my head into his.
“Unhand her!” a masculine voice shouted from the ramp. I heard the pounding of shoes as another man sprinted toward us. The next moment, however, the monstrous men let go of me, shoving me backward.
I wobbled, unsteady on my feet, but before I could fall over, a firm hand reached out to steady me. Disoriented, I glanced down and saw the long, elegant fingers that had caught hold of me. They were clean with no claws, and their grip was strong—holding me up rather than entrapping me.
It took a moment for my balance to return. Only then did the stranger retract his hand, but I still felt his solid presence behind me. Perhaps I should have been more frightened at the arrival of another man. But instead, some kernel deep inside me stirred to life—a feeling I couldn’t place sang in my very bones, and I decided to trust my rescuer.
When Alexa isn’t writing, she can be found with a book in her lap and a mug of coffee or glass of red wine within reach. A native of the North Woods, Alexa is an avid lake-jumper, beach lounger, and sunshine lover.
Alexa is living a happily ever after with her own steamy hero. Together they have an English Springer fur-baby and would love a few more!
Alexa loves any type of love story. So you can find her writing both contemporary romance and fantasy novels. Instead of making a separate pen name, Alexa just adds her middle initial to her fantasy genre books!
Alexa H. Michaels ~ Author of Fantasy
Alexa Michaels ~ Author of Romance
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