Page 1
Prologue
Love Cursed
Gabby
🎧 Prologue 1 Soundtrack
I was getting damned good at burying men.
That wasn't a skill a woman should have.
Cooking gumbo?
Sure.
Knowing when the roux had crossed the holy line between dark chocolate and burned-to-hell?
Absolutely.
Spotting a lying man before he got his drawers off?
That was practically a survival requirement in New Orleans.
But grave digging?
No.
Yet there I stood beneath a Louisiana moon with sweat sliding between my breasts, dirt beneath my fingernails, and the wooden handle of a shovel pressed against my palm.
Dead lover number seven. May you rest in peace, Andre.
The night smelled of wet earth, magnolia, and the muddy sweetness of the Mississippi River. Cicadas screamed from the trees. Mosquitoes considered my exposed arms an all-you-can-eat buffet. And past the iron gates, a trumpet’s lonely cry bled into the night.
New Orleans never understood the concept of silence.
Not even for the dead.
Especially not for the dead.
I pushed the shovel into another mound of dirt and let out a long breath. “I think I’m done now.”
Andre lay six feet beneath me, sealed inside a pine box and covered by enough dirt to hide what the curse had done to him. The grave was fresh. The earth had not settled, and the mound rose beneath my boots like the swollen belly of some great, sleeping beast.
Moist soil clung to my soles. Its rich, mineral scent filled my nose, but underneath it, decay lingered.
His whispers rose from his grave. “Gabby, what happened to me?”
I pursed my lips.
Andre had not been dead long enough to become bones. His blood had barely dried. He was a fresh corpse, and fresh corpses always had plenty to say.
He spoke again, “You warned me, but I thought I was special. Gabby, do you hear me? Can you bring me back?”
“I can’t, Andre. There are rules to bringing back the dead.” I stared down at the fresh grave. "I’m sorry. You deserved better."
Behind me, my Grand Aunt Delphine sucked her teeth.
I didn't turn around to ask what she was thinking. That sound said enough.
