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That Voodoo You Do by Myla Jackson********
Voodoo on the Bayou
by Elle James (aka Myla Jackson)
Blurb
“By day a frog, by night a man, ‘til de next full moon...”
At first, lawyer and ladies’ man Craig Thibodeaux thought Madame LeBieu’s chant was a strange bayou joke. But the voodoo worked and Craig is spending his days as...well, a small green frog. Now he has only two weeks to find love, or his new froggy transformation becomes permanent.
When she receives the anonymous toxic water sample from Bayou Miste, research scientist Elaine Smith decides a trip to the bayou is the perfect excuse to escape the lab, and forget about her cheating ex-fiancé. Then she accidentally stumbles upon Craig’s oh-so-fine naked form, and her science-nerd brain is overrun with naughty thoughts about her new gorgeous night-time bayou guide.
But there’s more to Bayou Miste than voodoo curses and sexy late-night trysts. Dark secrets threaten the delicate ecosystem, and there are those who would do anything to keep those secrets hidden. Even murder...
Excerpt
Despite the weighty
warmth of the swamp, a chill crept down Craig’s spine. "Who’s the lady in
the muumuu?"
The silent wonder next
to him deigned to speak in a reverent whisper, "Madame LeBieu."
Craig frowned and
mentally scratched his head. Madame LeBieu...Madame LeBieu...oh, yes. The
infamous Bayou Miste Voodoo priestess, a notorious mishmash of Cajun-Caribbean
witchdoctor mumbo-jumbo and healer. No one really knew her background, but she
was both feared and revered in the community. He studied her with more interest
and a touch of unease. Was he to be a sacrifice in some wacky Voodoo ceremony?
"Are you in
charge of these two thugs?" Craig feigned a cockiness he didn’t feel.
"It be I who
called upon dem." She dipped her head in a regal nod.
"Then call them
off and untie me." Craig shot an angry look at the men on either side of
him. "You’ve obviously got the wrong guy."
"Were you not de
man what be goin’ out with de sweet Lisa LeBieu earlier dis very evening?"
"Yes," Craig
said, caution stretching his answer, as dread pooled in his stomach. He didn’t
go into the fact that Lisa wasn’t so sweet. "Why?"
"I be Madame LeBieu
and Lisa be my fille grande. She say
you dally with her heart and cast it aside." The woman’s rich, melodious
voice held a thread of steel.
Craig frowned in
confusion. "You mean this isn’t about the card game? This is about Lisa,
your granddaughter?"
"No, dis be ‘bout
you mistreatment of les femmes."
"I don’t get it.
I didn’t touch her. She came on to me, and I took her home."
"Abuse not always
takes de physical form. You shunned her love and damage her chakras. For dis,
you pay."
Craig cocked an eyebrow
in disbelief. "You mean I was conked on the head and dragged from my bed
all because I refused to sleep with your granddaughter?" He snorted. "This
is a new one on me."
"Craig
Thibodeaux, I know your kind." Madame LeBieu stuck a thick, brown finger
in his face. "You break hearts wherever you go, dating one woman after
another and no love to show for it. You’ve wielded your loveless way for de
last time." Madame LeBieu flicked her fingers, and the flames behind her
leaped higher. Then, reaching inside the voluminous sleeves of the caftan, she
whipped out an atomizer and sprayed a light floral scent all around him. The
aroma mixed and mingled with the dark musty smells of the swamp’s stagnant
pools and decaying leaves.
"So you’re going
to douse me in perfume to unman me?" Craig’s bark of laughter clashed with
the rising beat of the drums. The humor of the situation was short-lived when
the mosquitoes decided they liked him even more with the added scent. Craig
shook all over to discourage the beggars from landing.
"Ezili Freda
Daome, Goddess of love and all that is beautiful, listen to our prayers, accept
our offerings, and enter into our arms, legs, and hearts." Madame LeBieu’s
head dropped back, and she spread her arms wide. The drumbeat increased in
intensity, reverberating off the canopy of trees shrouded in low-hanging
Spanish moss.
The pounding
emphasized the throbbing ache in the back of Craig’s head from where Madame
LeBieu’s henchmen had beaned him in his room at the bait shop prior to dragging
him here. The combined smells of perfume and swamp, along with the jungle beat
and chanting nut case made his stomach churn. The darkness of the night
surrounded him, pushing fear into his soul.
Craig had a sudden
premonition that whatever was about to happen, had the potential to change his
life entirely. Half of him wished they would just get on with it, whatever it
was. The other half quaked in apprehension.
The Voodoo priestess’s
arms and head dropped, the drums crashing to a halt. Silence descended. Not a single
cricket, frog, or bird interrupted the eerie stillness.
Craig broke the
trance, fighting his growing fear with false bravado. "And I’m supposed to
believe all this mumbo jumbo?" He snorted. "Give me a break. Next
thing, you’ll be waving a fairy wand and saying bibbity-bobbity-boo."
Madame LeBieu leveled
a cold, hard stare at him.
Another shiver snaked
down his spine. With the sweat dripping off his brow and chills racing down his
back, he thought he might be ill. Maybe even hallucinating.
A small girl appeared
at Madame LeBieu’s side, handing her an ornate cup. She waited silently for the
woman to drink. Craig noticed that his two former friends bowed their heads as
the Voodoo lady sipped from the cup then handed it back to the girl. Clutching
the cup as if it were her dearest possession, the child bowed at the waist,
backing into the shadows.
With a flourishing
sweep of her wrist, Madame LeBieu pulled a pastel pink, blue, and white scarf
from the sleeve of her caftan, and waved it in Craig’s face.
"Mistress of Love, hear my plea.
Help dis shameless man to see."
"You know I have
family in high places, don’t you?" Craig said. Not that they were there to
help him now.
Madame LeBieu
continued as though he hadn’t spoken.
"Though he be strong, his actions bold,
his heart be loveless, empty, cold.
By day a frog, by night a man,
‘til de next full moon, dis cunja will span."
Craig stopped shaking
his head, mosquitoes be damned. What was the old lady saying? "Hey, what’s
this about frogs?"
"A woman will answer Ezili’s call,
one who’ll love him, warts and all."
"Who, the frog or
me?" He chuckled nervously at the woman’s fanatical words, downplaying his
rising uneasiness. His next sarcastic statement was cut off when Mo’s heavily
muscled forearm crashed into his stomach. "Oomph!"
"Silence!"
Mo’s command warned of further retribution should Craig dare to interrupt
again.
Which worked out
great, since he was too busy sucking wind to restore air to his lungs. All he
could do was glare at his former friend. If only looks could kill, he’d have Mo
six feet under in a New Orleans minute.
Madame LeBieu went on,
"He’ll watch by day and woo by night,
to gain her love, he mus fight,
to break de cunja, be whole again,
transformed into a caring man."
"You didn’t have
to knock the wind out of my sails." Craig wheezed, and jerked his head in
Madame LeBieu’s direction. "She’s the one making all the noise, talking
nonsense about frogs and warts."
Mo’s face could have
been etched in stone.
The old witch held her
finger in Craig’s face, forcing him to look at it. Then she drew the finger to
her nose and his gaze followed until he noticed her eyes. A strange glow,
having nothing to do with fire, burned in their brown-black centers. Madame
LeBieu’s voice dropped to a low, threatening rumble.
"Should he deny dis gift from you,
a frog he’ll remain in de blackest bayou."
With a flourishing
spray of perfume and one last wave of the frothy scarf, Madame LeBieu backed
away from Craig, disappearing into the darkness from whence she’d come.
Craig’s stomach
churned and a tingling sensation spread throughout his body. He attributed his
discomfort to the nauseating smells and the ropes cutting off his circulation. "Hey,
you’re not going to leave me here trussed up like a pig on a spit, are you?"
Craig called out to the departing priestess.
A faint response
carried to him from deep in the shadows. "Dôn tempt me, boy."
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Myla Jackson
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