This Old Haunt: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Haunted Properties, #3

By Angela Roquet

I now pronounce you bat and bride!

Margo West is finally marrying the batty beau of her dreams. After breaking a century-old family curse, laying ghosts to rest, discovering her power over the sky cauldron, and defeating a dirty dog Shifter, a wedding sounds like a piece of cake. Until their mothers arrive. 

Nessa West is not thrilled about her daughter's plans to marry a fruit bat Shifter. Not when there are so many eligible warlocks waiting back in Kansas. The arrival of Dylan's mother is no walk through the poppies either. Hermosa Hernández lost her husband and eldest son to a witch's curse, and she's convinced that Margo is much too wicked for her precious cachorro. 

With their mothers stirring the cauldron at every turn, Margo and Dylan find themselves at odds and wondering if their love will survive the weekend. Some things just can't be fixed with one of Mama Ellie's sexy backyard rituals, but if they can't get their mothers under control, Margo fears her and Dylan's nights of making magic under the pawpaw trees will soon be over.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Violent Siren Press
• Release date: Jun 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393109846

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

This Old Haunt

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Chapter 1

MY ENGAGEMENT RING sparkled in the sunlight that filled the backyard of the Hernández house. Well, technically, it was now my house. I’d purchased Dylan’s childhood home back when he thought he was about to succumb to the family curse. But, now that we were engaged, and I intended to ditch my notorious surname for his, it would be the Hernández house again soon enough.

I’d spent plenty a morning in the garden, daydreaming about our future while admiring my fancy new bling. The budding diamond was sandwiched between a pair of tiny, black titanium bats, their wings spread wide and proud as if they were about to take flight from the white gold band they were attached to at the toes.

Perched on the picknick table between the pawpaw trees and gazebo was my favorite place to admire the token of Dylan’s love and his promise to make an honest bruja out of me. But today, I’d come out here to gulp down the fresh air in hopes of staving off a panic attack. My cousin Glinda had followed, a wicker basket draped over one arm and a breakfast cocktail—an extra-strong screwdriver—clutched in her opposite hand.

I don’t see what the big deal is, she said, waving the beverage in the air and rolling her eyes. "You’re the one who sent the invitation."

Yeah, but I didn’t expect anyone from my side—except for you, of course—to actually come.

My tall, dark, and sometimes winged fiancé had insisted that we not leave anyone out. It was impolite. If my family decided to be rude and not attend our wedding, that was on them. But shame on us if we stooped to their level.

I’d grudgingly agreed, knowing my family was far too ashamed to claim any relation, let alone show up to celebrate me jumping over the broom with a Shifter. Of course, I could’ve been marrying Shazam for all they cared. Which is how I knew something was very, very wrong when the mail arrived this morning.

This is all your fault! I shrieked and waved the wedding RSVP from Kansas in Glinda’s face. I know where you went last weekend. Roger told me. Who did you see? What did you say?

No one! Nothing! Holy poppy fields, Margo. Glinda huffed and went to take a drink of her screwdriver. I snatched the glass out of her hand before it reached her lips and downed the rest of the concoction in a single swallow.

Spill. Now, I demanded, pointing her to the picknick table. When she didn’t move fast enough, I blinked up at the sky. The clouds began to churn and blot out the sun.

Okay, okay! Glinda plopped onto the bench. She folded her long, leather-clad legs and tossed the wicker basket on the ground, cuing a disgruntled yip from the tiny hell beast inside. You remember my high school sweetheart, Frank Stormcrow? she asked.

My face was suddenly a thousand degrees. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

Yeah, well he’s my plus-one for your wedding, Glinda said. He probably told his mother, and then she told mine, and mine told yours... She twirled her hand in the air and then spread her arms casually across the table behind her as if she hadn’t just taken the situation from bad hair day to EF5.

"You’re bringing Frank? I croaked. What about Roger? I mean, I thought you two were really hitting it off." Not that I was thrilled about my cousin getting cozy with the local therapist either. The horny rabbit Shifter was a gossip and a peeping Tom.

What could I say? Glinda’s taste in men had always been shit. Frank, case in point.

Come on, Margo. Glinda grunted and raked a hand through her short black hair. It’s one thing to boink Porno Cottontail when I’m bored on a weeknight, but take him as a date to a high-profile witch wedding?

You’re horrible. I shook my head in disbelief. And since when is my wedding considered high-profile?

Uh... It was Glinda’s turn to blush. Well...I might’ve convinced Frank to go with me by telling him about your newfound tornado mojo.

"What?" I was going to drop a house on her.

There was a good reason I hadn’t dialed up my dysfunctional family the second I discovered that I wasn’t a magical flop. They’d expect me to join the fold again and honor the West family tradition of being wicked. No more selling houses to Shifters. No more hiding out in Assjacket. No more Dylan. I couldn’t let that happen. 

Sorry, cuz. My bad. Glinda winced and slowly stood from the picknick table as the sky began to stir again. How about I go make us some fresh drinks, hmm? she said, nervously tugging up the hem of her corset tube top.

My jaw was clenched so tightly, I couldn’t summon a reply. The RSVP felt like a ball of fire burning through my hand, but truthfully, I was just as sick about the idea of Frank attending my wedding. He was the warlock I’d lost my virginity to, after all. Right before he asked Glinda to prom instead of me.

The basket at my cousin’s feet quivered, and a muffled sound that crossed between a cackled and a high-pitched growl filtered through the wickerwork. Glinda nudged it with her foot.

Quiet, Randy-kins, she hissed under her breath. Or you’ll get the muzzle.

When that failed to stifle the canine sniggering, she nudged the basket again. This time, it tipped over. The lid sprang open, and a tiny miniature pinscher flopped into the grass. The dog scrambled to his feet and took off across the lawn, heading for the fence. He didn’t make it far.

Broomzilla, the sassy, enchanted huskcycle I’d inherited from my late gran, shot out