Small Town Witch Book 2
A Scottish wizard, stripped naked and painted blue—a Voodoo priestess bent on immortality—a yacht-load of Caribbean pirates. What can possibly go wrong?
With her best friend held hostage in a haunted Scottish castle by the magical Logan clan, Zoraida needs help. She can’t trust beguiling but dangerous Shea Logan, and Al, her over-protective ex-boyfriend, doesn’t believe in magic.
Granny says only one creature strikes fear in the blackened hearts of the Logan witches. Trouble is Jock disappeared five centuries ago leaving a trail of destruction across the Gulf of Mexico. Now he’s stepped into a steaming pile of Voodoo.
Can Zoraida drag wayward Jock back to Scotland? And what’s she supposed to do with two men who promise completely different futures?
She’ll need all the magic she can muster to get out of this predicament with her skin-- and her heart-- intact.
Her dry, cool hand on my arm guides me through the store, steadies me when I trip on uneven boards, pulls me through the blue-curtained doorway. Red lips blow sparkling powder from long, elegant fingers. The particles hang in the air, spinning and swirling. I inhale instinctively.
My knees give way and down I sink. Down onto the red velvet chair. Past the weathered floorboards, down into the silt and mud of the Delta. Down to the center of the earth. Satin folds of mesmerizing ensorcellment coil around my shoulders, pulling me deeper still into the space between time. Reality wastes to silence.
“Don’ fight, my girl. You can’t do it. Let it take you,” she whispers. We face each other, sitting in matching red velvet chairs. Our knees touch. She holds my hands, massaging my palms with her broad thumbs.READ MORE
Fresh sweat pops out on my forehead. The powdered drug slows my heart, my breathing, my mind. Each second stretches into infinity. Colors spiral around a green face. My eyelids weigh fifty pounds each. I yield to the irresistible need to let them slam shut. Cigarette smoke on her breath. A cold hand on my forehead. I’m helpless, bound, and sedated.
This won’t do.
My toes dig deep into the rich Mississippi silt and curl around the bones of the earth. Ancient, patient life grounds me, reminds me who I am. A molecule at a time, I transmute the drug to saline, a trick I did not learn in high school chemistry. A trick I didn’t know I could do. The effort leaves me gasping but my mind is once again my own. I open my eyes.
“You got de juju in you, bébé.” Azili laughs, red lips wide, teeth white. Her coils tighten. “But I got de juju in me, too.”
This time, I can’t keep her out. Like rising floodwaters, she seeps into every corner. A scream gurgles in my throat and dies.COLLAPSE
on On My Kindle:
This trip is filled with danger, vampires, a voodoo queen and her minions. Saving Zhu is Zoraida’s whole purpose for this trip but she has to live through it first.
Secrets, surprises, betrayals, magic and so much more made this book amazing, and of course there is Zoraida who is always saying what comes into her head without thinking it through and is always making me laugh.
Zoraida's inner narrative is a dazzling combination of humorous self-deprecation, sarcasm, and wit. It's like Practical Magic, Charmed, and The Craft had a baby and named it "Zoraida Grey."