A house with “personality”. One ridiculously tall leprechaun. Two nachtmares. And three geriatric defenders straight out of the retirement village.
These are my ducks, and they are not in a row.
It wasn’t until I lost everything—my home, my marriage, even my career—that I started to wonder if our “family curse” might be more than an unfortunate turn of phrase.
Now turning 45, the age at which every woman in my family dies, I need answers not only for myself, but for my two daughters. And I’ll see every specialist in the country if that’s what it takes.
But when a lifelong friend discovers a link between my strange family history and an abandoned estate, I can't pass up the opportunity to learn what happened before the death certificates started piling up.
What I find may mean it’s too late to change my fate, but that doesn’t mean I won’t die trying. If there’s a curse on our family, I’m coming for it with everything I’ve got.
Might as well make use of these raging hormones and decades of suppressed emotions while I still can....
The time for surviving is over. It’s time to start living.
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