Cursed

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We’ve known each other for a long time, but it wasn’t until we sat down during Comic-Con and again during DragonCon a few years ago and started kicking around ideas that the notion of working together was conceived. One thing led to another and before we knew it, we had Emma and Zack, a plot, a backstory, and a book!! Jeanne’s agent, Scott Miller, liked it, sold it and the rest, as they say, is history.

To those of you out there giving Cursed a chance, we hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it.

—Samantha & Jeanne

You’ve seen one dark, rugged werewolf, you’ve seen them all.

That’s what I told myself the first time I laid eyes on Zack Armstrong. I was wrong. Dead wrong. And now that presumption has come back to bite me in the ass.

I interrupt my best friend, Liz, in the middle of—something. I realize I’d lost the thread of our phone conversation the minute I spied Zack weaving his way through the maze of indistinct gray cubicles that make up the bull pen of the San Diego FBI Field Office. Save the hair and nine a.m. four o’clock shadow, the man is all spit and polish. Tailored dark blue suit, starched white shirt, blue-and-gold silk tie, and gleaming black shoes. The hair gives him a distinct edge—dark brown, slightly longer than regulation, no part. It’s swept straight back, accentuating the lines of his square jaw.

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