Hoodoo you need, p.1
Hoodoo You Need, page 1
Hoodoo You Need
Hoodoo & Bayou Series
Kathy Love
Copyright © 2021 by Kathy Love
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.
This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.
The Author of this Book has been granted permission by Robyn Peterman to use the copyrighted characters and/or worlds created by Robyn Peterman in this book. All copyright protection to the original characters and/or worlds of the Magic and Mayhem series is retained by Robyn Peterman.
Cover design by Evernight Designs
Acknowledgments
I want to thank Robyn Peterman again for inviting me to this fantabulous universe. It’s so much fun and always wonderful to work with such a fun, funny, and creative soul.
Also, I want to thank Wanda Adams for all her hard work and creativity. She’s our promo creator extraordinaire. I’m in awe of your brilliance.
So, I was a complete space cadet--and frankly, a little overwhelmed--when I released my first book in the Magic & Mayhem Universe, and I very stupidly forgot to thank someone super important to me. She has been one of my critique partners for over twenty years. (Egads!) And she specifically helped me brainstorm that first book, Hoodoo You Want. Thank you, Christie Kelley. You talked me down, helped me sort out the plot, and I owe you mucho, mucho wine. Especially for my dumb oversight. Love you, my friend.
Thank you to Elle Rossi, my dear friend and cover artist. You rock!
Thank you Jessie, my editor and first reader.
And a special thanks to my favorite guy, Bill Johnson. Thank you for all your help, every day. For pet duty, cooking duty and cleaning duty. You keep me afloat. I love you.
Contents
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Foreword
Blast Off with us into the Magic and Mayhem Universe!
I’m Robyn Peterman, the creator of the Magic and Mayhem Series and I’d like to invite you to my Magic and Mayhem Universe.
What is the Magic and Mayhem Universe, you may ask?
Well, let me explain…
It’s basically authorized fan fiction written by some amazing authors that I stalked and blackmailed! KIDDING! I was lucky and blessed to have some brilliant authors say yes! They have written brand new stories using my world and some of my characters. And let me tell you…the results are hilarious!
So here it is! Blast off with us into the hilarious Magic and Mayhem Universe. Side splitting books by fantabulous authors! Check out each and every one. You will laugh your way to a magical HEA!
For all the stories, go to https://magicandmayhemuniverse.com/.
Grab your copy today!
And if you would like to read the book that started all the madness, Switching Hour is FREE!
https://robynpeterman.com/switching-hour/
Chapter One
"Really, you don't have to go to my parents’,” I said for at least the dozenth time
since we left my husband's estate on the St James Bayou. But given that we were only a few blocks away from my childhood home, my repeated insistence seemed pretty moot. And more than a little desperate.
Etienne glanced away from navigating his large SUV down the narrow street just long enough to shoot me a suspicious grin. "Mally, I’m starting to get the feeling that you're embarrassed to have me around your family?"
Was that what he thought? That I was embarrassed to show off my hunky prince of a husband, which, by the way, wasn’t even a metaphor. He was literally a prince.
I mean, I could see why he’d think that, and I was a little embarrassed, but it wasn't of him. As much as I loved my family, they were the cause of my hesitation. Etienne had met them at our wedding breakfast, but that was "the them" that had been on their best behavior. Sunday dinners were something totally different. And I had successfully deterred him from attending for nearly a month. Until today, when he’d insisted.
I had just wanted to spare him the grilling from my family about how our marriage was going. Which was going…fine.
Fine. Hardly a rave review, I know. But so far, my marriage was more like an amicable roommate situation rather than an actual husband and wife scenario. We slept in separate bedrooms. We’d only kissed once, and that was at our actual wedding. In fact, we hadn’t so much as held hands.
But that was not how my parents hoped our arranged marriage was progressing. Every Sunday since my pop-up wedding, my family had attempted to feel me out about my marital situation, dreamy hope written all over their faces. Thus far, I’d managed to deflect their questions with vague answers, because, well, they were my family, and I knew how to deal with their well-intended prying. I wasn’t sure Etienne could evade them so easily.
Plus, I didn’t want my husband to know how much my family wanted my marriage to be a true love match, which was bound to make him feel pressured. Now talk about embarrassing.
Add to all this that my mother was dying for grandwitches. Or grandwarlocks. Or even grandpups. I wasn’t sure what we might have, considering Etienne’s rougarou genes. Whatever the case, I doubted that she would be subtle about wanting to be a grandmother. My mother was never good at keeping her feelings to herself.
Ack, I couldn’t even think about babies. Especially with a man that I wasn’t even remotely romantic with. Although Etienne did take this marriage very seriously. Our marriage had created a truce between the rougarous and the witches after centuries of feuding. So, it was kind of a big deal. And a lot of pressure. And if my parents desperately wanted grandbabies...well, I wasn’t 100% sure that Etienne wouldn’t feel it was his duty to oblige.
Suddenly, an image of some hideously awkward moment where Etienne showed up at my bedroom door in the wee hours of the night with the sole purpose of inseminating me played out in my mind. Like some archaic union between a king and a queen who barely knew each other but had to produce an heir.
I shuddered. Huge ick. In truth, though, our relationship wasn’t far off from that. Still, I drew the line at getting preggers for the cause.
“Are you okay?" Etienne asked, noticing my shiver.
“Yes,'' I said automatically, “Just a cold chill from the AC.”
He immediately dialed back that air. At least he was a thoughtful virtual stranger. The car instantly grew stuffy, and I regretted using that as my excuse.
A few moments later, he deftly maneuvered his large vehicle into a parking space a few houses down from my parents’ double-balconied Victorian in the center of New Orleans’ Garden District.
Gathering up my bag and a nice bottle of wine that Etienne had insisted on bringing as a gift for my parents, I took a deep breath and opened the car door. A gentle breeze rustled the large oaks that lined my parents’ street. The air was a little cooler now that it was November, which I was very grateful for, since I felt clammy from nerves, or more accurately, dread. But I managed to keep a calm face as I joined my tall, dark and handsome husband on the sidewalk.
Walking side-by-side with the usual polite amount of space between us, we headed toward the house. As we reached their front porch, a voice stopped us.
“Malachite! Malachite, is that your new husband?"
I momentarily closed my eyes and fought back a groan. There was only one possible thing that could be worse than sitting down to Sunday dinner with my family, and that would be getting caught on the way to Sunday dinner by Oonagh Licorne. My stepdad’s ex-wife.
Yes, my stepfather, who I had been my dad since I was five, actually lived directly across the street from his ex. Not by choice, of course. Oonagh had purchased her house as soon as it had gone on the market, knowing full well that my dad and mom lived a stone's throw from her—she had actually thrown stones to prove it. More indications that she was totally bananas.
I managed to force a smile and turned to look across the street to where the crazy woman leaned on the railing of her front porch. She waved merrily toward us, giving the appearance of nothing more than a friendly and sane neighbor.
Which was utterly untrue.
Today, she wore a white, gauzy gown and her dark hair was swept up into a messy knot of curls on the top of her head. She looked a bit like a Hollywood starlet, who should be lounging on a chaise, guzzling her fifth martini of the day.
I kept my smile plastered on my face and waved back, albeit with less enthusiasm.
“Hello Oonagh," I called, trying desperately to keep any uneasiness out of my voice. If she sensed any anxiety in my tone, she’d be like a shark catching the scent of blood, and she would dart in for the attack. "Yes, this is my husband, Etienne Dubois."
Etienne smiled easily and nodded. I hoped his dashing good looks would distract Oonagh long enough for us to make our escape.
For a moment, I thought it might actually work, she did look a little dazed by him. I used the distraction to start, again, for my parents’ por
“Married at the Samhain Ball,” she said, causing me to stop once more. This time when I faced her, the overly sweet smile was gone, replaced by a slight smirk. Uh-oh. “That must have been so romantic. Even if it was so sudden.”
There was no missing the sarcasm in the woman’s voice. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Etienne’s smile fade slightly.
“Unfortunately, my darling husband and I were not able to attend. We had a very unexpected incident occur with some broken pipes in our home.”
Her drawl hinted that she thought the plumbing problems didn’t have anything to do with these houses being old and in need of constant maintenance. I had no doubt that she thought my parents were somehow to blame. Of course, she tended to blame most things on my parents.
And to be fair, my parents might have cast a spell on her plumbing. They did have constant battles back and forth with Ononagh and her husband that rivaled the Hatfields and McCoys. Just with the use of magic spells rather than shotguns. Which was good, I guess. At least, there hadn’t been any permanent injuries. Yet.
The feud made no sense to me. Oonagh had remarried and appeared to be happy with her current husband, yet she still held a huge grudge toward my stepdad, and especially toward my mother. She acted as if my mother had somehow stolen JR away from her, when in fact, JR had divorced Oonagh four years before my parents even met. Of course, that fact probably didn’t matter much to Oonagh. She was determined to be the scorned woman. Add that to her cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs list.
“I’m sorry that you couldn’t make it,” Etienne said sincerely.
I nodded, still struggling to keep my smile locked in place.
“Me too. I heard it was the event of the year. And can you imagine, Freya Jordain’s sad, little witch of a daughter, the one who cannot even do a lick of magic, marrying a prince. Why, that is like something straight out of a fairytale.” The woman’s smile widened, turning outright vicious.
Beside me, I could sense Etienne’s stance stiffening, and his smile faded completely.
“It is wild, isn’t it?” I said with a laugh, determined to brush the insult off before Etienne could react further. He didn’t realize that was exactly what Oonagh wanted, and it would bother her far more not to get one. Plus, I could do magic—a bit. But I definitely was not telling her that. “Well, it was nice to see you.”
I waved again, then caught Etienne’s hand, tugging him toward the steps.
“Of course, you are the prince of the rougarous,” Oonagh called, and Etienne stopped again.
This time, I did groan.
Etienne turned back to her. “I am.”
Oonagh studied him, looking oddly impressed. “Well, that was good luck for you, wasn’t it, Malachite? I’ve always heard that rougarous are nothing more than unkempt, smelly brutes.”
This time, I didn’t manage to maintain my friendly look. Seriously. This witch was awful.
To my surprise, Etienne actually laughed at the rude comment. “Well, I’m glad to have been a pleasant surprise then.” He bowed slightly, which made me laugh, too.
“And I can attest to the fact that that belief is definitely an old wives’ tale,” I added, grinning. “All the rougarous I’ve met are very attractive.” Which was true—they were all quite beautiful in human form. But they did smell pretty awful in rougarou form. But Oonagh didn't need to know that. I hugged Etienne’s arm affectionately. “But not as handsome as my prince.”
Etienne accepted my sudden and unusual gesture of affection as if it was perfectly natural for us. He even one-upped me and kissed the top of my head.
Wow, maybe we should consider taking up acting. I could see Academy Awards in our future.
Oonagh couldn’t disguise her disgust and frustration at not getting a rise from either of us. Her eyes narrowed and her wicked grin curved downward into an irritated scowl.
That’s right, Evil Oonagh. A Jourdain was blissfully married to a smoking hot rougarou prince. Suck that.
Well, blissfully was a bit of an exaggeration, but I was glad she bought our ruse.
“It was lovely to see you. As always.” I said, keeping my tone breezy. I waved one last time, then keeping one arm looped through Etienne’s, we turned to walk up onto the porch.
Behind us, we heard Oonagh’s front door slam, and I had to giggle.
“Who was that?" Etienne asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning himself.
“You just had the delight of meeting my stepdad's ex-wife."
Etienne's eyes widened. “Your father's ex-wife lives across the street?”
I laughed at his puzzled expression. “Oh yeah, which you might have guessed is not a good thing. It can get a little crazy around here. Which is why I have avoided inviting you to Sunday dinner. But now, you’ve been warned.”
I reached for the doorknob, but it turned in my hand before I could twist it. The door whipped open, and both my parents stood on the other side. They grinned like Cheshire Cats in anticipation of our arrival. Both their gazes dropped to mine and Etienne’s arms still linked together. If possible, their smiles widened even more.
Here we go, I thought. At least now, I could add a second kiss, on the head, and handholding to the affectionate moments in our marriage--never mind that they’d only been for the benefit of our nasty neighbor.
“You’re here,” my mother exclaimed, stepping forward to hug me and then Etienne. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“I’m happy to be here, too,” Etienne said, returning her exuberant embrace. My willowy mother looked tiny beside him. “I’ve been quite busy, otherwise I wouldn’t have missed the last few dinners.”
I looked at him askance. He could’ve easily revealed that I had been the one making excuses for why he shouldn’t attend. But instead, he was gracious as always. I had to admit, he was genuinely a bit of a Prince Charming.
“No worries," my mother said, then stepped back to usher us into the house. “I can only imagine how busy a prince’s life must be."
I tried not to roll my eyes. My mother was absolutely giddy that I had married royalty. I don’t think either of my parents had ever had much hope for me in the marriage department. This was a major score.
I handed Mom the bottle of wine. She gushed to Etienne as if the gift was a royal family heirloom.
Okay, just breathe. I can do this.
“Come into the dining room," JR said, taking the lead. “The rest of your siblings are already here."
“Sorry we’re late," I said as I stepped away from Etienne, putting the usual polite distance back between us. Etienne glanced at me, seeming to take note of the movement, but I couldn’t read what he was thinking. Probably wondering why I hadn’t moved away sooner. I looked away from him, feeling awkward. “We got caught on the way in by Oonagh."
Mom paused at the dining room door, a worried frown marring her lovely face. “Oh, dear Goddess, what did that insane woman do now?"
JR looked equally as concerned.
“Nothing more than her usual cattiness," I assured them.
My mother smiled smugly. “I’m sure she’s beside herself at the wonderful new addition to our family."
No doubt about that. Jealousy was the primary motivator for all of Oonagh’s reactions. I’m sure even if I had married a mere mortal with a hefty car loan, a one-bedroom apartment and tons of school loan debt—you know, just an average person—she still would’ve been beside herself with envy.
And truthfully, her jealousy did make any sense. Her own son with JR, Sam, was engaged to a Hoodoo Priestess, who was a direct descendent of Marie Laveau, the famous Voodoo queen. In New Orleans, that was far more prestigious than the fact I’d married the crowned prince of the rougarous. In fact, I had no doubt many of the witches around here didn’t approve of my marriage. I knew, for sure, that many of the rougarous weren’t that keen on a witch as their princess.
