Better Haunts and Graveyards: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Haunted Properties, #2

By Angela Roquet

Bats in the belfry. Ghosts in the graveyard. Home sweet home.

Things have been less than ideal for Margo West since she tried to break the Hernández family curse via a naughty backyard ritual. She hasn't sold a house in seven months, and Mama Gretta's addictive cookie recipe is putting a serious cramp in her style. The trapped spirits of Dylan Hernández's bat Shifter papas seem to have moved on at least, but a surge of ghost sightings around town have everyone in Assjacket, WV, wondering if Margo's half-baked magic misfired and left them to pay the price. 

As if she didn't have enough in her cauldron, Glinda, Margo's wicked cousin, drops in for visit intent on stealing the legendary broom Margo inherited from Granny West.

Join Margo and Dylan once again for an adventure full of witches, and ghosts, and bat Shifters, oh my! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Violent Siren Press
• Release date: Jun 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393761037

Angela Roquet

USA Today bestselling author Angela Roquet is a great big weirdo. She lives in Missouri with her husband and son in a house stuffed with books, toys, skulls, owls, and glitter-speckled craft supplies. Angela is a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association, as well as the Four Horsemen of the Bookocalypse, her epic book critique group, where she's known as Death. When not swearing at the keyboard, she enjoys boating with her family at Lake of the Ozarks and reading books that raise eyebrows.  Find Angela online at www.angelaroquet.com

Book preview

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

Better Haunts and Graveyards

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Chapter 1

BRIGHT MORNING SUNSHINE filled the kitchen of the Hernández house. It glared through the bay window and reflected off the breakfast nook table where Zelda and I sat. Annoyance creased her brow as she squinted at me, but I could only deceive myself into blaming the sun for so long.

"You’re absolutely positive it was a ghost?" she asked—again—and then snagged the last cookie from the plate between us. There were at least three currently in my mouth. But it was either keep shoving in baked goods or gnaw my nails to the quick.

"Mmmhmm," I mumbled adamantly and fingered an inky curl behind my ear.

And you’re not just stalling Dylan’s return because you’re afraid of ruining your perfect memory of him? Zelda waved her cookie in the air. "I mean, who could blame you, Margo? How are you supposed to top ritual sex and breaking a hundred-year-old curse? How do you go from that to finding him dropping a deuce in the front yard in critter form? Or worse, in his human skin?"

I involuntarily pictured Dylan in his fruit bat Shifter state, dripping guano all over the gutters and front porch like the colony of microbats in the belfry often did. Only Dylan was quite a bit larger...and likely had a proportionate amount of guano to show for it.

I swallowed hard, forcing the mouthful of mashed cookie down before my gag reflex could kick in. You sound like Roger now, trying to dig around in my head and find issues that aren’t there.

"I’m beginning to wonder if anything is in there. Zelda drummed her nails on the table and gave me another skeptical frown. I’ve been here every morning for the past two weeks, and the only thing I have to show for it is an extra pants size—which, let me just say, I am not thrilled about. What the hell are you putting in these things anyway? Crack?" She took an angry bite of her cookie and glared at me as she chewed.

They’re pawpaw-doodles. I cocked my head at the bay window that overlooked the backyard and a small orchard of fruit-bearing trees. Mama Ellie worked her magic on the garden, too. The pawpaws produce all damn year. I can hardly keep up. My freezer is crammed full of cookies. Help yourself to a bag or three if you want.

Really? Zelda’s eyes widened with glee, but then her scowl returned. You wicked witch. You’re after my designer duds, aren’t you? Fabio told me you had good taste.

"I am not fattening you up to steal your wardrobe, I said, hoping to stave off a glitter-infused hex over the imagined slight. I am telling you, I saw a ghost. Right out there." I hooked a thumb at the window, pointing toward the dilapidated gazebo beside the orchard.

But it wasn’t Papa Diego? Zelda asked. No more streaking through the living room, right?

Right, but—

And Papa Mateo no longer takes his morning constitutional in the upstairs loo?

Or maybe he’s gotten lazy and has stopped flushing his ghostly turds? I shrugged. How can we know for certain?

Zelda rolled her eyes. You’re just being ridiculous now. If it’s not a Hernández ghost, then you have no proof that the ritual nookie didn’t take. Unless you faked an orgasm? She raised an accusing eyebrow.

Nope, I answered, then shivered as I recalled all the wonderful things Dylan had done to my body in the backyard under the stars. If the spell had failed, it was due to my lack of magic—not a lack of chemistry.

Look, Zelda said, then paused to lick the sugar from her fingers. Either you broke the curse or you didn’t. His birthday is in a month. If he only has that long left to live, shouldn’t you be making the most of it?

A lump nagged its way up to the back of my throat, and my stomach grumbled in protest as I considered eating my feelings with another round of cookies. If Dylan only had a month to live, how was I supposed to ask him to spend it with me? A magical runt who had most likely botched the spell meant to save his life.

No. I couldn’t ask him to do that. He should be living it up in the Bahamas. Eating and drinking and dancing like there’s no tomorrow. Because pretty soon, there might not be.

The thought of telling Dylan to his face that there was a chance the ritual hadn’t worked, that maybe I was as worthless a witch as my family thought, was just too much to bear. That was why I’d asked Zelda to call his and tell him to wait a bit longer. Make that four months longer and counting. The spell had only demanded