Cursed: An Urban Fantasy Novel by J.A. Cipriano
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
My name is Mac Brennan and that’s the only thing I can remember about myself. Not why I woke up in a dumpster. Not why my right arm is as black as pitch and covered in glowing red tattoos, and certainly not why a vicious death cult is after me.
Actually, that last part isn’t true. I know why the death cult is after me. It’s because I saved that damned girl from them. I didn’t know who she was at the time, but I’d have done it anyway. I just don’t like it when girls get beat up, call me old fashioned.
Still, I can tell she’s hiding something behind those devilish eyes, and if I want to find out what it is, I’ll have to help her.
My name is Mac Brennan. I have no memory, and I’m a werewolf-hunting, hellfire-flinging version of Faust himself.
This is a delightful new series by Cipriano. It is full of suspense, magic, witches, werewolves, vampires, and demons and the need to do whatever it takes to protect those you love, even if you don’t remember who they are, or even who you are for that matter.
In Mac Brennan’s search to find why he has this demon arm that has powers of its own sometimes and who he sold his soul to, who he is supposed to save, or what he is meant to do with these new powers. In the meantime, his humanity won’t allow him to leave a woman he finds being beaten by two huge men or her son to their dreadful fate.
I am so in love with this authors sense of humor! I spent more time grinning and laughing at the characters mannerisms and one-liners that I never got bored.
I’d managed to swim about five feet away before a shockwave sent me tumbling through the water, slamming my body along the cement bottom and shearing off skin from my face and hands. Breath burst from my lips in a stream of bubbles. My lungs threatened to burst as I struggled to get my legs underneath me and propel myself upward. Just as my vision was starting to go dim, my feet touched the stone bottom. I pushed off with everything I had, rocketing myself upward. Breaking the surface was like coming home, and I resolved never to go without air again.
“Every second I walked around like this increased the likelihood someone would call the police to report a guy splattered with blood was walking around in a trench coat. They’d probably shoot first, shoot second to make sure, and then ask questions third in that given scenario. I knew I would. Hell, I probably had.”
“My tattoos blazed to life like a neon sign outside a strip club.”
Thank you to the author and J&S, Author Services for the opportunity to read this delightful novel in return for an honest review! It was definitely my honor.
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