That Hound Don't Hunt: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Maidens of Mayhem, #1

By Julia Mills

Take…

Seventeen screaming Shifters without a smidgen of sense…

Five feathered femme fatales led by the most fantastic fuchsia Flamingo…

One broken-down, bramble-covered, behemoth of a building called Bailmore Hall…  

Add in a hot-as-homemade-sin hunk of a Hound Dog with hazel eyes who makes me huff and honk and think of humping…

Throw them all together in the backass Swamp on the wrong side of Tallullu Parish, Louisiana, sprinkle with a dash of murder, a pinch of mystery, and a helluva lotta mayhem and you've got my life.

My name's Maxine Monroe. We are the Maidens of Mayhem. Bodies buried with twenty-four-hour notice and a picture ID. Alibis provided upon request.

For our 'extended stay' clients ~ padded rooms on the third floor and straight-jackets kept in the closet on the right.

We're open 24/7/365. Call 1-888-MAIDENS for your free consultation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Julia Mills
• Release date: Jun 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393434412

Book preview

That Hound Don’t Hunt

Maidens of Mayhem ~ Book 1

by

Julia Mills

Bodies buried with twenty-four-hour notice and a picture ID.

Alibis provided upon request.

Copyright © 2019 by Julia Mills

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.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Cover by Isabel Michaels

Edited and Proofread by Tammy Payne with Book Nook Nuts

Formatted by Charlene Bauer with Wickedly Bold Creations

To Robyn Peterman – THANK YOU SO MUCH for letting me into your world!

I just ADORE you!

YOU ROCK, LADY! Never stop being you! XOXO

To All My Readers – YOU MAKE MY DAY EVERY SINGLE DAY!

THANK YOU from the bottom of my big old southern heart!

I simply could NOT do it without YOU!

DEDICATION

Dare to Dream! Find the Strength to Act! Never Look Back!

Thank you, God.

To my girls, Liz and Em, I Love You. Every day, every way, always.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Also by Julia

About Julia

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!

Chapter One

N ooooooooooo!

Yes!

"No! Nonononononononononono ~ Noooooooooooooo!’

Yes, dammit! Yes! Yes! Yes!

As you can see, I totally had the situation under control. Sure, to the outside observer ~ the untrained eye ~ it might’ve looked like I was chasing a four-foot-eleven-inch wailing woman with flaming red feathers covering her head and chest, bright blue and brilliant yellow plumage adorning her back, and an extremely long, straight-as-an-arrow, felt-like-a-dagger-when-slicing-at-your-shins tail of the same brilliant color scheme, but I assure you, it was the treatment I’d prescribed for the patient.

Everyone knows Parrots need an incredible amount of exercise. They need to spread their wings, feel the wind in their feathers, get the blood pumping. It was all part of the regim...oh, fuck it! Who the hell am I kidding? I was outta my depth, in over my head, and sinking faster than the Titanic.

In the last ten days, I’d lost my father, inherited a rundown, full-to-capacity-and-then-some Home for the Shifterly Insane, and for some strange, unexplainable reason been embarrassingly unable to control the appearance of my alter-ego ~ affectionately known as the Pink Princess. To say my life had gone to the birds was...well...ummm...the no-shit statement of the decade.

Sure, I was a trained psychologist with PhD’s in Behavioral Psychology and Neurolinguistics. I had an impressive (Not boasting, just stating the facts.) ratio of patients I’d been able to help. And awards decorated an entire wall of my huge corner office atop the largest medical building in Manhattan.

But... And it’s a big but. Think three plumbers all bent over and stuffed under the same kitchen sink big. To date, I had only treated humans. Yeah, okay, some could say I’d taken the easy way out. It was even suggested over the years, mostly by dear old dad, that I’d turned my back on my own kind.

But that was unequivocally not true. I, Maxine Monroe, Pink Flamingo Shifter, and daughter of Horace T. Monroe ~renowned Healer of Shifters, chose to use the extra-special abilities given to me by the Universe to help humans. Sue me! I thought I was being altruistic! Thought I was spreading the love and doing something good for the world.

Never in a million, trillion, zillion, bajillion years could I have ever imagined that my dad would get eaten by one of his patients. I mean, come on. Eaten by a prepubescent Pterodactyl being treated for Anorexia. Who the hell could've seen that coming? I actually laughed out loud when I got the call. It went something like...

Dr. Monroe?

Yes?

Dr. Maxine Monroe?

The one and only.

Dr. Maxine Monroe of 969 Park Ave, New York, NY?

Unless there’s another, I sighed, annoyed even though the voice on the other end of the receiver had a smooth Cajun drawl that made my tail feathers shake. Who is this? And what’s with the twenty questions?

Name’s J.B. St. Sabin. Det ...

Little Jean Baptiste? The boy with a face full of freckles, coke-bottle glasses, and jeans four sizes too big who pulled my braids every damn day of second grade?

The words were outta my mouth before my brain had even had a chance to engage. Through all my stammering and stuttering and silly-as-shit apologies, tension shot through the phone like a bullet from a gun. Clearing his throat with an air of truly earned authority, he growled, "That's Detective St. Sabin, Miss Monroe." Low and rumbly, what I was sure was meant to be a pointed rebuke, his snarl sent shivers up and down my spine in a way that had my harlot of an alter-ego begging to be spanked.

Ahem, yes, Sir. Sorry for the inappropriate trip down memory lane, Jean...I mean, Det. St. Sabin. Shocked at my unusual demure, not to mention respectful, response, I shook my head while