Tricky Tarot: Miscellaneous Minis, #20

By Beckton Snow

Beware. Anything can happen at a carnival…

…especially in a town full of psychics, witches, vampires, and werewolves.

 

The annual Halloween carnival has returned to Dewhurst. For the first time in a year, it seems like a secret meet-up away from adults may be possible for Dove and her off-limits vampire boyfriend. After all, her tarot cards never lie.

But when they meet two traveling paranormal investigators with a different premonition, it seems their luck may have run out.

 

Can they enjoy a night together and feel like every other couple? Or will their forbidden romance destroy them?

 

This lite horror, contemporary fantasy novella offers a sweet, southern young adult forbidden romance between a witch and a vampire, as well as a spicy, British adult romance between a psychic and a paranormal investigator. Tricky Tarot seamlessly introduces the characters of Beckton and the magical town of Dewhurst, Mississippi, setting the stage for future series by the authors. It is part of the Miscellaneous Minis series featuring the same LGBT+ British characters, but it can be read as a standalone and is intended for adults due to its gothic horror themes, foul language, and explicit content. The series is in order of the alphabet and numbered as such. The stories are not in chronological order.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Unicorn Nightporium
• Release date: Apr 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224133871

Book preview

1

BLOOD SUCKER

TREVOR

After years of traveling around, jet lag is still rubbish. But the thrill of a new place and rumors of what lingers after death makes adventure worth the trouble.

When my boyfriend, Kevin, and I decided to travel through America, we learned of Dewhurst, Mississippi—a town with similar origins to our hometown, Beckton. Our coven is long gone, but magic still flows.

Do you feel anything? Kevin whispers in my ear.

I make a noncommittal grunt he’ll understand as I fumble in my jacket pocket for a cigarette and a lighter, crack the window, and go to light it.

No smoking in my cab, sir.

I click my tongue and stick the cigarette behind my ear instead.

You lot sure fancy Halloween, eh? I ask our driver as we pass a yard with inflatable ghosts.

Oh yeah, he says. You came at a good time.

Any haunted thrills?

Sure are. Helped set up the carnival haunt myself.

I meant something more real, not some holiday gimmick.

Paranormal investigators swore that the readings in this town topped their machine’s capabilities, especially during the annual Halloween carnival. So, I bought us airplane tickets and a raggedy, old tent to offer fortune-telling services and to sleep in. If Dewhurst’s reputation is genuine, we’ll find out soon enough.

The driver rolls down his window and hangs his head out of it like a dog. His unusually long tongue flaps in the wind. I try to snap a picture with my mobile, but Kevin blocks the camera and leans in close.

Trev, you’ll embarrass him.

Drool smacks the back window, triggering Kevin’s gag reflex. I restrain from laughing, watching the driver pant out the window. I’ll give credit where it’s due. The lad’s committed to the bit.

Y’all talk like Ned Stark, he says when we stop at a light.

Sean Bean? Aye, Kevin agrees, though it’s clear he hasn’t recovered from the spit.

The driver notes his discomfort. You okay there, fella?

I… get car sick.

I smirk, knowing he’s full of it but trying to be polite. Is it much farther?

He shakes his head. Less than a minute away.

Our cab stops on Main Street, and he opens the boot. On the footpath, a tall, lanky teenager dances enthusiastically to Britney Spears’s Toxic. I can’t help but smile as I breathe in fresh air. He reminds me of my musically gifted sister back home. Same red hair and freckles too.

A cool fall breeze caresses my skin, smelling and tasting of boiled toffee nuts, brown sugar barbecue, and spice. Leaves brush over our feet, and Kevin repels.

Sorry ’bout that. The teenager points his broom handle at a black and red Blood Suckers’ Café sign. I’m rushing to get ready for the carnival, but Mom said I had to sweep first.

Kevin shakes salt over each of his shoulders. To have one’s feet swept is akin to being long for the grave, and he’s come too close to death to doubt bad omens. Now, he keeps salt on hand.

I tighten my duffle bag straps. How close are the fairgrounds?

About a three-minute walk, the redhead says. Go to the end of Main and take a left. You can’t miss it.

I close the boot and signal the driver away. Thanks, mate.

No problem, the boy says.

Damon, a voice calls from inside the shop.

I should finish, Damon says. Have fun.

Kevin and I pass a fudge shop, and my mouth waters.

The jewelry boutique has me thinking about marrying him, again. Nothing would make me happier. We’ve been cohabitating for years, so marriage is the next logical step. I’ve been thinking of getting a ring for a while, but nothing local suits him, because Kevin is hard to shop for. Once I find one, it’ll just be a matter of when to say I do.

The historic cinema makes me want to go on an impromptu date. The business names and architecture are quirky as fuck but oddly enticing. I want to visit all of them, despite knowing the town is only this way to encourage tourism.

Tourist traps are usually loud and obnoxious, but Dewhurst is quaint. The footpaths are brick, and street lamps stand a few inches taller than me in milky-white glass. The shopkeepers have decorated for Halloween with cobwebs, spiders, carved pumpkins, and orange and black lights. It’s tacky, but cozy.

Nice area, Kevin says. I could see relocating our business here.

I light my cigarette. We agreed to visit the supernatural towns of America, not to settle in one. I exhale downwind so it doesn’t blow toward him. What would Kim say?

That I’m an adult, he says, and I can make me own decisions.

We look at each other. He