Hoodoo You Need: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Hoodoo and Bayou Series, #2

By Kathy Love

Mally Jourdain has gone from being the worst witch ever to a princess--literally overnight. Sabotage wedding, anyone? Now she's hitched to the crowned prince of the rougarous, who also happens to be the sexiest man/wolf in existence.

 

Sounds great, right?

 

Unfortunately, it's a marriage of convenience, which royally sucks, because, you know, the whole smokin' hot thing. She's also now a stepmother, which might be okay. The jury's out on that one. But at least her previously non-existent magic is working. Well, sometimes. Okay, not at all, really. 

 

And these are the high points of her life.

 

When her husband's brother goes missing (the second one in so many months), she wants to help. But she has no idea where to start or what she can even do. A witch with wonky magic and only a crawfish as a familiar wasn't exactly the best one for the job. 

 

No problem. She could do this. Still, she had imagined being a princess would involve lounging on the porch in a crown, sipping mint juleps, and listening to zydeco. Not going out into the bayou to fight strange creatures that want her and the rougarous dead. So far, being a princess is not all that it's cracked up to be. Here's hoping she can get her witchy act together, kick a little butt, and save herself and few others along the way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kathy Love
• Release date: Oct 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201027872

Book preview

Chapter One

Really, you don't have to go to my parents’, I said for at least the dozenth time 

since we left my husband's estate on the St James Bayou. But given that we were only a few blocks away from my childhood home, my repeated insistence seemed pretty moot. And more than a little desperate. 

Etienne glanced away from navigating his large SUV down the narrow street just long enough to shoot me a suspicious grin. Mally, I’m starting to get the feeling that you're embarrassed to have me around your family?

Was that what he thought? That I was embarrassed to show off my hunky prince of a husband, which, by the way, wasn’t even a metaphor. He was literally a prince. 

I mean, I could see why he’d think that, and I was a little embarrassed, but it wasn't of him. As much as I loved my family, they were the cause of my hesitation. Etienne had met them at our wedding breakfast, but that was the them that had been on their best behavior. Sunday dinners were something totally different. And I had successfully deterred him from attending for nearly a month. Until today, when he’d insisted. 

I had just wanted to spare him the grilling from my family about how our marriage was going. Which was going…fine. 

Fine. Hardly a rave review, I know. But so far, my marriage was more like an amicable roommate situation rather than an actual husband and wife scenario. We slept in separate bedrooms. We’d only kissed once, and that was at our actual wedding. In fact, we hadn’t so much as held hands. 

But that was not how my parents hoped our arranged marriage was progressing. Every Sunday since my pop-up wedding, my family had attempted to feel me out about my marital situation, dreamy hope written all over their faces. Thus far, I’d managed to deflect their questions with vague answers, because, well, they were my family, and I knew how to deal with their well-intended prying. I wasn’t sure Etienne could evade them so easily. 

Plus, I didn’t want my husband to know how much my family wanted my marriage to be a true love match, which was bound to make him feel pressured. Now talk about embarrassing.

Add to all this that my mother was dying for grandwitches. Or grandwarlocks. Or even grandpups. I wasn’t sure what we might have, considering Etienne’s rougarou genes. Whatever the case, I doubted that she would be subtle about wanting to be a grandmother. My mother was never good at keeping her feelings to herself.

Ack, I couldn’t even think about babies. Especially with a man that I wasn’t even remotely romantic with. Although Etienne did take this marriage very seriously. Our marriage had created a truce between the rougarous and the witches after centuries of feuding. So, it was kind of a big deal. And a lot of pressure. And if my parents desperately wanted grandbabies...well, I wasn’t 100% sure that Etienne wouldn’t feel it was his duty to oblige.

Suddenly, an image of some hideously awkward moment where Etienne showed up at my bedroom door in the wee hours of the night with the sole purpose of inseminating me played out in my mind. Like some archaic union between a king and a queen who barely knew each other but had to produce an heir.

I shuddered. Huge ick. In truth, though, our relationship wasn’t far off from that. Still, I drew the line at getting preggers for the cause.

Are you okay? Etienne asked, noticing my shiver.

Yes,'' I said automatically, Just a cold chill from the AC."

He immediately dialed back that air. At least he was a thoughtful virtual stranger. The car instantly grew stuffy, and I regretted using that as my excuse.

A few moments later, he deftly maneuvered his large vehicle into a parking space a few houses down from my parents’ double-balconied Victorian in the center of New Orleans’ Garden District. 

Gathering up my bag and a nice bottle of wine that Etienne had insisted on bringing as a gift for my parents, I took a deep breath and opened the car door. A gentle breeze rustled the large oaks that lined my parents’ street. The air was a little cooler now that it was November, which I was very grateful for, since I felt clammy from nerves, or more accurately, dread. But I managed to keep a calm face as I joined my tall, dark and handsome husband on the sidewalk.

Walking side-by-side with the usual polite amount of space between us, we headed toward the house. As we reached their front porch, a voice stopped us.

Malachite! Malachite, is that your new husband?

I momentarily closed my eyes and fought back a groan. There was only one possible thing that could be worse than sitting down to Sunday dinner with my family, and that would be getting caught on the way to Sunday dinner by Oonagh Licorne. My stepdad’s ex-wife. 

Yes, my stepfather, who I had been my dad since I was five, actually lived directly across the street from his ex. Not by choice, of course. Oonagh had purchased her house as soon as it had gone on the market, knowing full well that my dad and mom lived a stone's throw from her—she had actually thrown stones to prove it. More indications that she was totally bananas. 

I managed to force a smile and turned to look across the street to where the crazy woman leaned on the railing of her front porch. She waved merrily toward us, giving the appearance of nothing more than a friendly and sane neighbor. 

Which was utterly untrue.

Today, she wore a white, gauzy gown and her dark hair was swept up into a messy knot of curls on the top of her head. She looked a bit like a Hollywood starlet, who should be lounging on a chaise, guzzling her fifth martini of the day.

I kept my smile plastered on my face and waved back, albeit with less enthusiasm.

Hello Oonagh, I called, trying desperately to keep any uneasiness out of my voice. If she sensed any anxiety in my tone, she’d be like a shark catching the scent of blood, and she would dart in for the attack. Yes, this is my husband, Etienne Dubois.

Etienne smiled easily and nodded. I hoped his dashing good looks would distract Oonagh long enough for us to make our escape. 

For a moment, I thought it might actually work, she did look a little dazed by him. I used the distraction to start, again, for my parents’ porch. 

Married at the Samhain Ball, she said, causing me to stop once more. This time when I faced her, the overly sweet smile was gone, replaced by a slight smirk. Uh-oh. That must have been so romantic. Even if it was so sudden.

There was no missing the sarcasm in the woman’s voice. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Etienne’s smile fade slightly.

Unfortunately, my darling husband and I were not able to attend. We had a very unexpected incident occur with some broken pipes in our home.

Her drawl hinted that she thought the plumbing problems didn’t have anything to do with these houses being old and in need of constant maintenance. I had no doubt that she thought my parents were somehow to blame. Of course, she tended to blame most things on my parents. 

And to be fair, my parents might have cast a spell on her plumbing. They did have constant battles back and forth with Ononagh and her husband that rivaled the Hatfields and McCoys. Just with the use of magic spells rather than shotguns. Which was good, I guess. At least, there hadn’t been any permanent injuries. Yet.

The feud made no sense to me. Oonagh had remarried and appeared to be happy with her current husband, yet she still held a huge grudge toward my stepdad, and especially toward my mother. She acted as if my mother had somehow stolen JR away from her, when in fact, JR had divorced Oonagh four years before my parents even met. Of course, that fact probably didn’t matter much to Oonagh. She was determined to be the scorned woman. Add that to her cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs list.

I’m sorry that you couldn’t make it, Etienne said sincerely.

I nodded, still struggling to keep my smile locked in place.

"Me too. I heard it was the event of the year. And can you imagine, Freya Jordain’s sad, little witch of a daughter, the one who cannot even