That Mule's Got A Kick: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Maidens of Mayhem, #3

By Julia Mills

Take…

One mysterious package covered in bright blue cartoon wrapping paper delivered by an Armadillo on a twenty-speed Schwinn racing by at a high rate of speed.

Add...

Forty-eight hours to save my friends, my momma, and Gram-Gram from a revenant relative returned from the grave.

A seventeen-hour road trip to get help from the Almighty Shifter Wanker with my Queen-in-her-own-mind Eagle critiquing my choice in music and my inability to carry a tune in a bucket with a lid.

One essential, crucial, and had-to-happen trip to Buck's Stop-N-Go for cheesy puffs, black licorice, and a forty-four-ounce soda.

A super sexy Mule who comes to the rescue, saves my bootay from inevitable demise, and steals my heart.

And…

You've got the life of Edna Easterwing, aka me. All I wanted was a quiet day with my coffee, paperwork, and the Sanity-Challenged Shifters of Bailmore Hall – Instead…

I'm Feathered, Cursed, and Mated to an Ass...Midnight Margaritas, anyone?

All I can say is buckle up, Buttercup, it's time to get FLOCKED 'cause that's how we roll in Tallulu Parish!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Julia Mills
• Release date: Jun 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393048527

Book preview

Chapter One

Bing-bingbingbing

Damn you, Edna. Pick up the phone. Max.

Exactly, on the nose, fifteen seconds later.

Bing-bingbingbing

Come on, Eds. We love you. Answer, call, or text us back. We just need to know that you’re okay. XOXO Livvie.

Hitting the button on the steering wheel that raised the volume of the radio to earsplitting levels, I drowned out the sound of my cellphone text alerts as I sang along with Katrina and the Waves. I’m walkin’ on sunshine, woooow. I’m walking on sunshine, woooow. I’m walkin’ on…

My last fuckin’ nerve, my snarky alter-ego snapped inside my head. Girl, you couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket that had a lid. Stop that racket and get thee to a bar. Drown your sorrows in copious amounts of alcohol before I drown you in the nearest lake.

Shut up, Abigail, I growled, singing even louder. I used to think maybe you loved me but now I’m…

Gonna die a slow and painful death by my very long, very sharp talons. Don’t make me do it, Edna. You know I will. You know I’m not above…

Bing- bingbingbing

And answer that ass-twitchin’, fucked up piece of machinery. If it makes that boda-bing-boda-boom sound one more time, I will not be responsible for my actions.

Are you ever?

Hey, now, Abigail gasped. That’s just wrong. You know I never hide from reality. I am always responsible for my…

"Says the six-foot Eagle Shifter with the mouth of a sailor, an undeniable flair for the dramatic, and the ability to drink more whiskey than Johnny Walker and Jack Daniels combined. Yep! That’s her folks. The chick who just happens to hide inside my soul every hour of every damned day and wants you to believe that she’s a responsible adult."

Ignoring me and continuing to speak without missing a beat, Abigail spouted "… not politically correct – because, let’s face it, that’s a load of horse shit. Most definitely not polite – because, well, my family are Kings and Queens and we don’t do polite. We try. It just never happens. And, obviously always with style and flair, because, my dear, above all else you must always make everything you do memorable. Taking all that into consideration, you must admit that I take complete responsibility for everything I do and say."

Inhaling so deeply, I thought she might swallow my brain and half my skull in the process, the reigning Queen of the Eagles - at least in her own mind - went on with a renewed spirit of glee and so much excitement that she actually chirped. (Don’t tell her that I said she chirped. It’s a pet peeve of our dear Abigail’s. Oh, hell! Tell her. What do I care? I’m gonna be dead soon anyway.) Holy shit! Are we going through Tennessee on the way to Bite My Ass, West Virginia?

It’s Assjacket, you, Asshat, I growled for the umpteenth time. I knew she was doing on it on purpose. It was just what Abigail did. She loved to piss me off. It was her favorite pass time, and usually, I played along. Hell, we were stuck together for all eternity, might as well make a game out of it. But, on this occasion, the phrase ‘not so much’ had never been more on the nose.

You see, I was on my way to meet the one and only Zelda. The Witch who was next in line to become the Baba Yaga, and more importantly, at least to me, the Almighty Shifter Wanker.

I had a problem only she could solve. And before you ask, yes, I thought about going to my friends for help. I was literally on the way to Bailmore Hall to call a meeting of the Maidens of Mayhem (More about that in a minute.) when a bicycle messenger – Harry Horshack, Tallulu Parish’s one and only Armadillo Shifter – damned near knocked me off my feet with the handlebars of his shiny blue Schwinn twenty-speed.

Oh, my Goddess, Edna Easterwing, he huffed and puffed, his hand grabbing hold of my arm to keep both of us from landing flat on our collective asses in the middle of the street. Sorry ‘bout that. I’ve been lookin’ for you everywhere and here you are. Right in the middle of the street. If you’d been a Black Snake you’d’ve bit me. Whipping the sweat from his brow, he wheezed out a breathy chuckle, I’ve pedaled so much my ass is draggin’.

Yeah, well, you found me, Harry, and it’s really good to know that I’m not a Black Snake. I ignored the comment about his ass because, well, his jeans were always flying at half-mast and I just couldn’t go there. It would’ve led to parts unknown and with Harry, that was never ever a good thing. So, I kept the conversation flowing to it hopefully quick end. Whatcha need?

Letting go of my arm, he twisted the top half of his body as far backward as it would go while his butt stayed glued to the sheepskin seat of his bicycle and his feet remained planted on the ground. Rummaging through his beat-up, brown leather saddlebags, he explained, I’ve got a package for you. The sender even paid extra to have it delivered within the hour, and she said ‘urgent’ about fifty times. So, ya’ know, I had to hurry. There’s a twenty-dollar tip in it if I get back within the hour and I’m lookin’ to buy a new headlight for old Bessie here. Every penny counts and twenty dollars ain’t just chicken feed.

Looking up and over his shoulder, he tilted his head to the side and bit the inside of his cheek. Come to think of it, the woman looked an awful lot like you. Pursing his lips and moving them side to side for way longer than I was comfortable with, Harry narrowed his eyes. I mean, her hair was the weirdest shade of orange, her nose was long and hooked, and she was short and stubby, but in the eyes… Pointing his index finger at his right eye, he wiggled it back and forth from wide eye to the other. You know, she looked just like you. Shrugging, he gave an offhanded chuckle, Except I could tell that the lights were on, but nobody was home. Whistling and shaking his head, the Armadillo made the universal sign for crazy with his finger making circles around his ear before going back to digging for the package and mumbling, She was a brick or two shy of a load. Creeeeepy.

Ignoring the chill skittering down my spine at his description of a person who I knew to be dead, I nodded, Yeah, I hear ya’. Some people just aren’t right. Reaching for the small, flat box covered in Sesame Street wrapping paper, I pulled a five dollar bill out of the pocket of my lab coat with my free hand and passed it to Harry. Thanks a bunch. Put that towards your new light.

Turning to leave as fast as I could possibly pirouette having not had one damned dance lesson in my whole entire life, I made it precisely one step before Harry yoohoo’d, Hey Eds.

Whipping my head to the side, I glared over my shoulder. (Yes, I glared, ‘cause I glare a lot. Blame it on genetics or being paired with the most annoying Eagle in the history of Aviary Shifters, or whatever the hell you want to blame it on. I’m the pragmatic one of our Flock. The levelheaded one. The one who keeps her cool, solves the problems, and listens as the rest of her feather-brained friends go on and on about things she’d rather not hear about. That’s my role. Deal with it. I learned a long time ago not to bitch…too much. Instead of griping, I glare. Got it? Good. Now, back to your regularly scheduled story. Oh, and about my Flock, stay tuned, those details are coming very soon.)

Yes, Harry. Something else? (Yeah, I was also kind of a bitch. Sue me. I was freakin’ the hell out and lookin’ to open the box in my hands as quickly as I could. I knew who it was from. Didn’t want to admit it, but in the bottom of my pea-pickin’ heart, I knew.)

Just this, he snickered, shrugging his shoulders and smiling sweetly as he handed me a plain white envelope. I thought it was weird that the package is wrapped with such pretty paper, and this is so, well… Flipping the letter one way and then the other, he shrugged again. …plain, but there ya’ go. It is what it is.

Holding out my hand, I tried my best, I swear I did, to smile, but from the look on Harry’s face, I failed…miserably. He actually looked a little scared. I felt bad, but there wasn’t time to apologize or explain. I needed to get the hell outta Dodge, and apparently so did Harry.

Slapping the envelope into my palm, the sweetest, goofiest Shifter in all of Tallulu Parish leaned forward, patted me on the shoulder and asked, Are you okay, Edna? Anything you need, you know all you have to do is ask.

And, there ya’ have it, I was wrong about Harry yet again. Not even my freaked up crazy-freaked-out-trying-to-get-away Eagle smile scared that silly Armadillo.

(It bears mentioning that Harry’s had a crush on me since we were in Miss Donna’s kindergarten class. We both know he’s not the wind beneath my wings, aka the man made for me by the Goddess, but that doesn’t stop my not-so-secret admirer from admiring in the creepiest of ways. Not stalkerish – so, I guess creepy is the wrong word. Maybe persistent would be better. Who knows? But, again, I digress.) 

Nope, nope. Frantically shaking my head and backing away as the envelope started to burn my skin, I forced another smile, this one apparently better than the last because good old Harry winked as I kept moving away and chattering, "I’m good. Thank you. Thank you so much. You’re a real gem, Harry. Super great guy and courier. Maybe