Prologue
A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. These are the stories of some of those encounters with objects found at
Amorous Goods
.
***
It was early September as Eddie hurried into his house, unhappily soaked from the rainstorm outside. His clothes clung to his dripping body as he slammed the door behind him, the bags in his hands rustling with the effort of the motion.
A pair of beautiful green eyes looked over the glow of a cellphone, lit up with amusement, as she sat up from her seat on the couch. "Daddy! You're soaked! What happened?!" She gasped in faux shock.
"Smartass." Eddie grumbled, doing his best not to give his daughter, Grace, the satisfaction of finding her taunt amusing as he dropped his bags. With a groan he added, "...the rain..."
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Grace perked up, making a show of cupping her hand over her ear to hear him better.
"I got caught in the rain, okay!" He begrudgingly shot back.
"But you couldn't have." She shook her head. "I distinctly remember you saying it wasn't going to rain today. Even when I tried to tell you to pack an umbrella, you insisted it wasn't necessary. You must have gotten wet some other way. You're just saying it rained to entertain my foolish girly ignorance for ever questioning you."
Eddie let out a loud sigh. "You keep this up and I'm going to take this back." He motioned to one of the bags on the floor.
This caught Grace's attention enough for her to put down her phone. "Oh?"
"I passed this weird antique shop on the way back from my conference today. I know you're into weird antiques so I gave it a look and bought you something but if you're going to be a brat-"
"Daaaaaddy!" Grace bat her eyelashes and used her cute voice that always wrapped her father around her finger. "I'm so,
sooooo
sorry I was so foolishly worried about your wellbeing enough to not want you caught in the rain. So sorry for being a braaaaat." She then immediately dropped all pretenses and used her regular voice, "What'd you get me? What'd you get me?"
"You know what? Now you have to wait until I get out of these clothes and take a shower!" Eddie snarled.
Despite the aggression, Grace paid it no mind. Instead she glanced from her father down to the bag, a curious excitement in her eyes. She
loved
surprises. But she had an issue with being patient enough for them...
"Hey, Brat!" Eddie yelled to get her attention.
Grace bit back a giggle at the nickname that she in no way took as an insult. She was a brat and proud. It was his fault for spoiling her. She playfully hid behind the long locks of her honey-colored hair to make herself seem more innocent, despite her clear motives as soon as her father left the room.
"No peeking!" He threatened.
"No peeking." Grace repeated with a sharp nod. She even turned back to her phone. But her curious glances back at the bag were anything but subtle. Her face did turn serious again as she looked upon her father's state once more. "You really do need to get out of those clothes before you get sick, though. I'll mop the floor."
"I'll mop the floor." Eddie sighed, taking off his shoes and socks, which he'd been able to mostly salvage in his run from the driveway to the door.
Grace gave her father a pitiful look as he squelched past her, but he wasn't even out of sight yet before her eyes were once again on the bag...
Eddie knew she was probably already sneaking her way silently to do the thing he specifically told her not to do. That was the problem with having a smart, young woman living with him. She may be his flesh and blood. She may respect him as a father. But she knew him
too
well. Enough to know what she could get away with by just batting those pretty green eyes at him.
He sighed again. Her mother, Angela was the same way. She'd just used her power for evil. At worst, Grace was merely mischievous. The last time he'd seen Angela's just as vibrant green eyes manipulating him, it was when Grace was dropped off. He never would have had an issue with taking care of her, of course but Angela had just... what was the word Grace used recently?
Yeet
-ed? Yeeted
out
? Does yeet include the word 'out' in its initial meaning? He'd have ask her later.
All he was worried about now was the feeling of the shower water as it warmed him. Everything else was just details. Details he could worry about later.
A few minutes later, a robed Eddie made his way back into the living room with the mop to find the unsurprising visual of Grace fiddling with the intricately detailed metal box he'd bought for her. He was told that it was some kind of puzzle box and Grace loved puzzles, so it seemed perfect for her. It already appeared significantly less boxlike as Grace scrutinizingly twisted bits of it, looked closely and then typed things into her phone. "How old is this?" She asked in awe, looking back and forth between the box and her phone. "I don't even know what language this is..."
"Lift your feet." Eddie ordered sternly as he mopped the trail of water he'd left. Grace swiftly curled her long legs under herself on the couch in response.
Eddie's eyes narrowed as he took in another detail of his daughter now that he was really looking. "Is that my shirt?"
Grace paused her intense studying to flash her father a grin, without an iota of guilt shown. "Your shirts are really comfy."
Eddie sighed again. "Grace. We've been over this. I respect your room. And you respect mine."
"And as
I've
said, if you want to wear any of my clothes, you're more than welcome."
Eddie glared even more. "I have half a mind to do that. Stretch out
all
your shirts."
Grace rolled her eyes. "Oh no! I'll have to shop for new clothes! The horror, Daddy! The horror!"