imPerfect Curse by Cn Rowan

imPerfect Curse by Cn Rowan

The problem with ancient promises? There’s always a price to pay.

I’m exhausted. Done in. In desperate need of a stiff drink and about a week’s sleep—but that’s not going to happen.

Because Franc is dying, struck by a curse placed on him by the Sistren Of Bordeaux, one of the most powerful groups of Talented in France. And because of our deal, it’s on me to find out what the hell is going on, and how Franc has offended the Sistren. Apart from by simply existing, of course.

What should’ve been a simple trip to Bordeaux turns into a living nightmare as the past shows up—not to haunt me, but to kick me square in the nuts. And now I’m being dragged into the one place no Talented ever wants to end up. A place where magic users either disappear... or come out as empty husks.

This time, it might not be the world at risk.

It might be my very soul.

imPerfect Curse is the second book in The imPerfect Cathar series, a darkly funny supernatural suspense following a trio of immortal heretics in the south-west of France. Contains strong language, dark humour, and a high probability of magical screw-ups.

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Praise for The imPerfect Cathar Series:

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ I cried, I laughed. I yearned for the characters.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Get ready for some gut punches.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Inventive, wild, dark and snarky. Brilliant!

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ The magic is powerful there. It's ancient.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Damn you, Chris!! Okay, I did NOT see that coming!

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Right now, I'm feeling a bit stabby.

C.N. Rowan (“Call me C.N., Mr. Rowan was my father”) is the Award-winning author of the imPerfect Cathar series. It’s been a strange, unbelievable journey to arrive at the point where these books are going to be released into the wild, like rare, near-extinct animals being returned to their natural habitat, already wondering where they’re going to nick cigarettes from on the plains of Africa, the way they used to from the zookeeper’s overalls. Rowan came originally from Leicester, England. Somehow escaping its terrible, terrible clutches (only joking, he’s a proud Midlander really), he has wound up living in the South-West of France for his sins. Only, not for his sins. Otherwise, he’d have ended up living somewhere really dreadful. Like Leicester. (Again – joking, he really does love Leicester. He knows Leicester can take a joke. Unlike some of those other cities. Looking at you, Slough.)

With multiple weird strings to his bow, all of which are made of tooth-floss and liable to snap if you tried to use them to do anything as adventurous as shooting an arrow, he’s done all sorts of odd things, from running a hiphop record label (including featuring himself as rapper) to hustling disability living aids on the mean streets of Syston. He’s particularly proud of the work he’s done managing and recording several French hiphop acts, and is currently awaiting confirmation of wild rumours he might get a Gold Disc for a song he recorded and mixed.