Hoodoo You Want Read online

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Magic and Mayhem Universe

  Copyright © 2021 by Kathy Love

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  All rights reserved.

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  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.

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  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.

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  This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.

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  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.

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  Cover design by Evernight Designs

  Acknowledgments

  First, I would like to thank Robyn. I messaged her in the wee hours of the night to very randomly tell her that my neighbor regularly gets mistaken for her husband. Instead of thinking I was some nut, she invited me to join the Magic and Mayhem Universe. Now, I'm not sure who's nuttier, me or her. (Big grin) Thank you, Robyn! This has been so much fun!

  Of course, I must thank my awesome neighbor, Marty Hart. Thank you for looking like Robyn's hubby!

  Ah, Elle Rossi. Thank you for my wonderful cover art and all your help. You are the very best, my dear friend. I owe you so many drinks. So many.

  Thank you, Jessie at Howl at the Moon Editing. You are so patient, and your suggestions are spot on. I'm so glad I found you. You rock.

  And a huge, huge thank you to Andrea for introducing me to Robyn's fabulous books. Our marathon chats have helped to keep me sane—well, as sane as I get. You are my soul friend, forever.

  Foreword

  Blast Off with us into the Magic and Mayhem Universe!

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  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.

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  What is the Magic and Mayhem Universe, you may ask?

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  Well, let me explain…

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  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!

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  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!

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  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

  “What do you mean you aren’t going to the Samhain Ball?” My mother unceremoniously dropped a serving dish onto the middle of the long dinner table, then scowled at me. Even scowling she was stunningly lovely. Blonde, blue-eyed, didn’t look a day over thirty-five.

  I focused on her latest culinary concoction, which sort of looked like...gumbo? Maybe? My mother insisted on cooking, even though she was terrible at it. My siblings and I had all begged her dozens of times to just conjure our family dinners. Or at least pick up a phone and order takeout, but she considered herself the Martha Stewart of witches and insisted her cooking was great.

  It really wasn’t.

  “Why wouldn’t you want to go?” My stepdad, Jean-Rene said, as he sat down at the table. He avoided looking at Mom's latest cooking misadventure. “The ball is the perfect place to meet a nice warlock.”

  Jean-Rene and my mother married when I was five years old, so I considered him my dad. I had no idea who my real father was. My mom was a bit of a free-love, flower power, Green Witch before she met JR, as I and my sisters affectionately called him.

  I managed to not roll my eyes and shot my sisters a look for help.

  Violet, my oldest sister, gave me a pained frown back, while Iris still eyed my mother’s scary entree.

  “I’m not interested in meeting anyone,” I said, not for the first time.

  JR was on a campaign to see all his stepdaughters married and happily settled down. Thus far, all of us had been abysmal failures in that department. Violet was more focused on her career as a pediatric doctor than dating. She was a Healer Witch, so she was very good at her career. And Iris, well, she seemed to be following in my mother’s footsteps. She was a Green Witch, too. And she had many male friends but showed no signs of settling down. Basically, Iris was a wild child, and I applauded her for it. You’re only young once. Even if witches happened to be young for a long time.

  “Mally-Cat, marrying a warlock is exactly what you need,” JR said, which was actually his less than subtle way of saying, “You’re a really crappy witch and marrying a warlock is your best bet of being accepted as part of the witch community.”

  There was my shameful truth. I was a seriously lame witch. On a scale from 1 to 5 stars in the magic department, I was ¼ of a star—and that might have been generous.

  And yes, my stepdad called me Mally-Cat. My real name was Malachite. So, both names were equally unfortunate. My mother had named each of her daughters for the color of their eyes. Violet had purple eyes. Like genuinely purple eyes, which looked stunning with her bright auburn hair and pale skin. Iris had big, blue eyes and wavy blonde hair. She looked like an angel, despite her wild side.

  But aside from being tall and willowy, my sisters didn’t look anything like each other. I suspect they didn’t have the same dads. Like I said, Mom was all about the free love stuff. Green Witches also liked their weed. So, who knows, maybe one of my sisters was conceived at Woodstock, while Mom was one toke over the line.

  And then there was me. I definitely had a different dad from my sister. I was short and thin with pitch black hair that I kept in a short pixie cut and my eyes were a vivid green. Hence Malachite. Mom couldn’t have gone with something marginally normal like Jade or even Emerald. Em was a good nickname. Even Emmy. I could work with those.

  But I was Mally. Or Mally-Cat. So fun. Not.

  Just then my parents’ front door opened, and my stepbrothers, Ghede (pronounced gah-day like an Australian greeting) and Sam—short for Samedi strolled in. They were both Hoodoo Warlocks like their dad and their names were taken from the Voodoo Loa. So unusual but at least they sort of made sense. I was named after a freaking rock. Was it any wonder my magic was pathetic?

  “Oh thank Goddess,” Iris said as soon as she spotted the takeout bags in their hands.

  My mother eyed them irritated but leaned in to get a kiss on the cheek from both of them. My stepbrothers were gorgeous and charming. They were multiracial. Their mother was a Celtic Witch, and JR was a Hoodoo Warlock of Creole descent. All Hoodoo witches and warlocks were. My brothers were tall and muscular with beautiful golden skin. Think of the actor in that
crazy popular Bridgerton show. Yep. They were total heartthrobs.

  They still had a relationship with their mom, Oonagh, who happened to be certifiable. In fact, she was so nuts, she moved into the house directly across the street from my parents. She was now married to a unicorn Shifter, who wasn’t all there either.

  Despite everyone having moved on, living so close to each other still made for awkward moments. Like the time their mother was angry that her sons came here to celebrate Yule before going to see her, so she cast a spell on my parents’ house, making it look like a bordello. Men rang the doorbell all hours of the day and night for a month. Or the time her unicorn Shifter husband, Silver—he didn’t luck out in the name department either—made a drunken pass at Iris at a street block party. JR made his horn disappear, leaving him nothing more than a glorified horse. The spell eventually wore off, but the damage was done. Losing a horn was very damaging to a unicorn Shifter’s sense of masculinity. So, the back-and-forth spell casting still happened quite regularly. Consequently, our street felt a bit like the Hatfields and McCoys. But hey, there was never a dull moment.

  “We just brought some food, because you are always cooking for us, Mama Fre.” Ghede explained as he set his bag on the table. He and Sam referred to my mom as Mama Fre, short of her name, Freya.

  “It’s the least we can do,” Sam added with a crooked smile.

  My mother fell for their charm. Hook, line and sinker. She always did. I was just glad there was now something edible on the menu.

  They took their usual seats, and everyone began digging into the food. We were basically the modern-day Brady Bunch. With magic thrown in.

  I heaped my plate with the Chinese food my brothers brought. It happened to be from one of my favorite takeout places. And despite my small size, I could really eat. Witches were known for their high metabolisms, and at least I got that one witch trait. I did add a couple spoonfuls of my mother’s gumbo to be polite. Was it gumbo? I grimaced, trying to shake it off the serving spoon. I still wasn’t sure.

  “This...” JR said, poking at the unidentifiable mixture with his fork. He clearly didn’t know what it was supposed to be either. “This dish is really good, ma chere.”

  My mom smiled. My parents were a true love match. The fact that JR regularly ate my mom’s food proved that.

  We chatted, getting caught up on each other’s week. Sunday dinners were our family ritual.

  “So, Mally, why aren’t you going to the Samhain Ball?” Iris asked around a bite of moo shu pork.

  I shot her a dirty look. Really? Was she actually bringing this up again? I thought I might actually be off the hot seat. No such luck.

  “You’re not going?” Ghede said.

  “She is going,” my mom stated flatly.

  JR nodded. He gave up on the maybe-gumbo and bit into an egg roll instead.

  “I was thinking I might not go either,” Ghede said, almost as if he was trying the idea on for size.

  JR stopped chewing and frowned at his son.

  “What?” Mom exclaimed, her fork clattered on her plate as she dropped it to gape around the table at each of us. “The Samhain Ball is the biggest event of the witch season in New Orleans. This ball is where all witches go to see and be seen. Not to mention, Baba Yaga is attending this year. So, you are all going. Period.”

  Baba Yaga was the head of all witches. The Hoodoo witches also had a leader of sorts—Papa Shashun, but Baba Yaga was still considered the grand poobah of the witch world. And you did not blow off Baba Yaga.

  None of us were exactly children anymore. We were well into our forties, although we looked to be in our twenties. I was the youngest, and on a good day, I still got carded at bars and nightclubs. An irony since my day—or rather night—job was as a bartender. But even in our forties, we knew better than to argue with my mom. We were going. Debate over.

  Everyone ate in silence.

  “How are classes going, Ghede?” Iris asked suddenly. Wow, my middle sister was on a roll this evening. She was hitting on all the sensitive topics.

  Ghede had decided that he wasn’t interested in attending the Hoodoo Conjure Academy, much to JR’s dismay. Since Ghede was the oldest son of a powerful Hoodoo warlock, it was just assumed he would follow in his father’s footsteps and become a Hoodoo Priest, which was the highest rank of the Hoodoo warlocks. But Ghede wanted to be a psychiatrist. And yes, I did say that in my head like the elf from Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. “He wants to be a den-tist.” Or in this case psy-chi-atrist. Not that I didn’t approve of Ghede’s decision. He’d be a great psychiatrist. But that elf was pretty amusing, I had to admit.

  JR and Mom both bore into him with disapproving looks. Ghede finished swallowing his mouthful of food, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It’s going well.”

  The table fell silent again. Awkward. And time for me to bounce.

  I wiped my mouth, too, and then placed the napkin on my plate, strategically placing it over my untouched maybe-gumbo. “I hate to head out so early, but my shift at the bar starts soon. So, I better run.”

  I didn’t have to be at work for another hour, but I could only take so much family fun time. I adored them all, but small doses were good. Especially tonight.

  Mom sighed, but then smiled. “I’m just glad you made it. Your dad and I love time with our children.”

  JR nodded, but I suspect they hadn’t enjoyed much of this evening either.

  I gave my family members each a hug and a kiss, gathered up my crossbody bag, and then made my escape.

  Once outside, I took a huge breath. The air was still warm, but much of the oppressive humidity had dissipated. Flowers bloomed on the porches and balconies of the gorgeous old houses of the Garden District. Many already had pumpkins and other Halloween decorations up. If it weren’t for the stupid Samhain Ball, autumn would be my favorite time of the year.

  I heard a door open and close behind me, and Violet appeared on Mom and Dad’s front porch. Her sundress and hair seemed to float with each step as she came down to the sidewalk where I still stood.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Sure.”

  She studied me with those too perceptive violet eyes of hers. “Why don’t you want to go to the ball?”

  I usually preferred not to talk about my terrible witchcraft abilities, but Violet would just keep asking.

  “I hate doing witchy crap.” I sighed. “I feel like everyone looks at me and thinks, ‘Poor Mally, the worst witch in the land.’ Or worse, ‘Freya is such a powerful witch. How did she produce such a defective kid?’”

  Violet gave me a sympathetic smile, which just made me feel like more of a loser. “They don’t think either of those things.”

  “I appreciate that. But they do.”

  My sister pursed her lips. “Some witches just get their powers later than others.”

  “Great, but I’m well past the late bloomer stage. Walking into that ball is like going to the prom still wearing a training bra stuffed with tissues. I stand there with my lopsided, fake boobs, while everyone else is wearing plunging necklines with all their cleavage out in full glory.”

  She laughed. “Interesting analogy, but honestly, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  I managed a forced smile and hugged my gorgeous sister. I did appreciate her support. But she couldn’t understand. She was a practicing, powerful Healer Witch. And a doctor to boot. Success dripped from her like glittery, magical, pixie dust.

  I was a bartender, whose magic only sparked and fizzled like a dud firework. The most I’d ever been able to do with my magic was produce enough energy to light up the dark so I could see to unlock the front door of my apartment. So, I was basically the witch equivalent of a glow stick. Yippee. Truthfully, it was easier to just use the light feature on my cell phone.

  Across the street, a curtain moved. My stepbrothers' mother was watching. Now it was really time to head out.

  “Thanks for the pep talk.”
I said. My big sister had always looked out for me, but this wasn’t something she could fix. No one could. “But we’re being spied on by the wicked witch, and I do have to get to work.”

  She cast a nervous look at Oonagh’s house, and she nodded. “Let’s meet for coffee and beignets on Wednesday. Three? That place on Royal Street? And maybe we can look for dresses for the ball. One that really shows off your cleavage.”

  I glanced down wryly at my small chest, then nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Violet gave me one last hug, and I hurried down the sidewalk to the streetcar stop and waited. I heard the clack and clatter of it heading my way. Soon, I was settled on one of the wooden bench seats and on my way down St. Charles Street toward the French Quarter.

  On the other side of the aisle and a few seats ahead of me, a couple canoodled. Kissing and giggling. I looked away from them and stared out the window.

  Despite what I told my parents, I did occasionally long for a relationship. Iris was always with a new guy. Sam was engaged to a Hoodoo Witch, who happened to be the great, great granddaughter of the powerful Voodoo Priestess, Marie Laveau. My parents were thrilled. That was practically marrying into royalty. Violet had been dating a warlock she met at last year’s Samhain Ball. Their relationship was pretty casual, and I suspected Violet only dated him to keep my parents’ matchmaking at bay. Only Ghede and I were perpetually single.

  Okay, I needed to get out of this blah headspace. It wasn’t doing me any good.