little magic goes a long way…
Alexandra Belle Boyette is closing in on the big 3-0 and her mama has made it her mission to marry her off. In the tiny parish of Bayou Miste, deep in the Louisiana swamps, finding suitable hubby material can be a challenge—and Alex would rather not rely on magical spells to do the trick. But there is a sexy new man in town who might fit the bill…
Ed Marceaux is in Bayou Miste to safeguard a key witness to a Louisiana Mafia murder. He must keep an eye out for suspicious characters—but the place seems to be full of them! What could be stranger than a woman dressed in a sexy nightgown chasing a naked man down the street? The enchantingly gorgeous Alex Boyette certainly makes it worth his while to find out…
Add a Voodoo spell gone wrong, and voila! madness—and love—ensues.
Information:
Title: Deja Voodoo (a Cajun Magic Novel)
Author: Elle James
Genre: Suspense, Contemporary Romance
Length: 187 pages
Release Date: June 2013
ISBN: 978-1-62266-0-827
Imprint: Entangled Suspense
Praise for Deja Voodoo:
“Action-packed and full of passion—an Elle James book never fails to please.” –Julie Miller, USA Today Best Selling Author
Excerpt:
© 2013 Elle James
First Chapter
BAYOU MISTE, LOUISIANA
“Boyette, I hope this idea works.” Edouard Francois Marceau scrunched his smartphone between his ear and shoulder as he sat on the bench by the back door of his rental cottage. With his hands free, he pulled off a muddy boot and dropped it to the porch planks. “If it doesn’t, we may have us one dead witness on our hands, and that bastard Primeaux will get away with murder.”
“Don’t worry, it’ll work,” Ben Boyette, his partner in the Special Criminal Investigations Unit of the Louisiana State Police in Baton Rouge, reassured him. “Did you have any trouble fi nding the old trapper shack?”
Ed snorted. “Did anyone ever tell you GPS devices work best on roads, not waterways? Still, we managed, with a few dead ends and switchbacks. I lose this thing, I’ll have to hire a tracking dog with gills to fi nd Phyllis and Marcus. Holy Jesus, that swamp is a freakin’ maze! Marcus and I counted no less than nine alligators while we were out there. And those were the ones we could see.”
“Did you point them out to our witness?”
“You bet.” Ed shifted the phone to the other ear and attacked
the laces on his other boot. “That ought to make even her stay put.”
Ben chuckled. “You think? After the drug-running, backstabbing Mafi a thugs she’s been shacking up with, the alligators probably looked tame.”
“Good point.” One-handed, Ed tugged at the remaining muddy boot. The phone slipped, and he grabbed for it. “Tell me again why we’re playing babysitter to a witness and why you didn’t take this assignment?”
“Number one, I don’t trust anyone else to get our witness to the courthouse alive. I suspect we have a mole on the force. And I’d have done it, but I’m up to my neck in trials over the serial rapist case.” Ben sighed. “Since I did all the legwork, I’m the one in court. God, I hate courtrooms. But we have to nail this guy so it sticks. Otherwise, I’d be there in a heartbeat. Oh, and I have a pregnant wife at home.”
“Oh, yeah. That. Guess you’re right. Although I’d switch with you in a second. You’re the one with all the experience wrestling alligators.”
“You’ll survive. Hopefully, the only alligator you have to wrestle is my moth—” Ben stopped in midsentence as if he changed his mind about what he was going to say next. “By the way, how are your digs? Mom buy your story?”
“Yeah.” Ed padded through the small cottage, appreciating the homey feel of it. This was the kind of house he’d always pictured belonging to his grandmother. If he’d ever known her. “I hate lying to your mom, though.”
“She’ll get over it. Did my share of fi bbing to get out of doing the lawn a couple times growing up.” He chuckled. “Come to think of it, I can still taste the soap. That woman could see right through every lie. She always caught me. But she loved me anyway.”
“She had to love you, you’re her son.” And Boyette was damned lucky to have her.
“I’m sure your mom did the same.”
“Don’t bet on it. Never knew her.” His voice was a bit harsher than he’d intended. A twinge of longing fl ickered across his subconscious, which he quickly squelched. No use pining after something he never had.
After all these years, he hadn’t realized how much he missed having a mother until he’d met Ben’s. Barbara Boyette was the consummate maternal fi gure. Care and concern written in every smile, wrinkle, and gray hair.
Ben cleared his throat. “Oh, by the way, do you like kids?” Ed pushed his boots to the side and stood. Did he like kids? “Never thought about it. Why?”
“No reason. Did Mom invite you to dinner already?” Ben asked.
“Nope.”
“Don’t worry, she will.”
“Is that bad?”
“Uh, no, not at all.” Ben’s answer was a little too swift for his comfort. “She moves quickly with single men.”
“I’m not single, I’m divorced. There’s a difference. Is there something you’re not telling me?” He tamped down a sudden urge to get out of town. Fast.
“No, no. Nothing at all.” Now Ben’s voice sounded entirely too innocent.
Uh-oh. He should defi nitely run from this small town stuff as fast as his Nikes could take him.
“Mom’s a great cook. She just sometimes cooks up more than her guests are ready to swallow.”
Now he knew for sure Ben was keeping something from him. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
Ben ignored his question. “Okay, so you’re all set, then. Lay low and go fi shing enough to keep Marcus and our girl fed and happy.”
“Gotcha.” He looked around the tiny cottage, the walls closing in on him already. “One question.”
“What’s that?”
“What the hell am I supposed to do with my time for the next few days?”
“Keep an eye open for suspicious characters. Did I mention fi shing? Make this like a vacation, and relax.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever taken a vacation.” He scratched his head and thought back. No, he’d hung out at the offi ce even on annual leave. All that use-or-lose vacation time got lost each year.
“What does one do on a vacation?”
“Sleep until noon, girl-watch, you know, the usual thing.”
“Maybe on Cocoa Beach, but in Bayou Miste? I’d go so far as to say the alligators outnumber the people. I don’t think I’ve seen one live human besides your mother and the marina owner. Tell me, Ben, do they count the alligators in the census?”
Ben’s outright laughter blasted Ed’s ear. “Bayou Miste isn’t that bad. Think about it, you arrived in the middle of the day, right?”
“So?”
“School and work should be getting out by now.” Ben chuckled again. “Just wait.”
He didn’t like the sound of his partner’s laugh, it had a devilish quality. “Wait for what?”
“To meet the family. You’re gonna love them.”
“I thought it was just you and your mother.”
Ben snorted. “Oh, no. I have eighteen brothers and sisters.”
Ed fumbled the phone and almost dropped it. “Holy hell!”
“Yeah, that’s what it’s like around my house after school.”
The introverted halls of Monti-Ed-zuma crashed around his ears.
Nineteen children in one family? What were his parents thinking? Obviously, they hadn’t been thinking, they’d been— Holy crap.
“What have you gotten me into, Boyette?”
“You’re a tough guy, you can handle it.”
…
As the tune to “When the Saints Go Marching In” played on Alexandra Belle Boyette’s phone for the sixth time in thirty minutes, she lay down on the couch and crammed a pillow over her ears. “Please leave me alone.” Her mother. Again.
“Why don’t you answer it and get it over with?” One of her three best friends, Calliope, sat across from her, scraping the silver coating from a scratch-off lottery ticket, her long, wild, light-red hair fanning across her shoulders like a cape. She wore a halter top and an ankle-length, tie-dyed peasant skirt, her legs tucked under her. No matter the circumstances, she always looked relaxed and carefree.
“No way.” Alex sat up and leaned her face in her hands. “She’ll ask me again if I’ve been seeing anyone, or she’ll invite me to dinner at the house and drag some poor slob to the table with the family.”
“So? What’s wrong with that?”
“Even if I liked the guy, one look at my family and he’ll run screaming into the bayou.”
“Damn.” Calliope frowned at the lottery ticket and tossed it onto the table. Then she looked across at Alex with a smile. “Your family’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, all nineteen of them.” She rolled her eyes. “In this day and age, who in their right minds would have nineteen children?”
Calliope grinned. “Your parents.”
“Yeah, and what did it buy them?” She sat up. “An early grave for my father and insanity for my mother.” Despite her fl ippant words, she still felt the pain of loss. Her father had been the rock in their lives and she missed him terribly, even two years after his passing.
“Alex, your mother loves every one of you and only wants to see you happy.”
“I wish she could love me a bit less.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. She won’t leave me alone about love and relationships. I’m happy with the way things are. I have my own business. I’m in the best shape of my life. I have this great house.
What more does she want?”
“Grandchildren?”
She snorted. “Big Brother Ben has that market nailed. She’ll have her fi rst grandbaby in three months. Lucie’s getting as big as the bayou.”
“Speaking of Lucie, I saw her yesterday when I was in Baton Rouge. And you’re right. She is getting big.” Calliope smiled. “She looks great. Pregnancy must agree with her.”
“Yeah, and Ben’s over the moon. His chest is swelling so much, I doubt they can fi nd shirts to fi t him.” Alex was happy for her brother. At the same time, a stab of intense longing hit her right in the gut. She had to suck in air to relieve the pressure.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Calliope jumped from her seat on the couch. “Lucie asked me to give you something.”
Alex cringed. “Oh God, what now?”
Calliope fi shed in her pocket and dug out a small red velvet drawstring bag.
When Alex peered inside, she almost gagged. It smelled like something the cat dragged in from the swamp. “What is this stuff?”
“She didn’t say. I bet fi ve bucks it’s some Voodoo remedy.”
“Egad!” She dropped the bag on the end table. “Remember the last time she dabbled in Voodoo? She almost had the entire town of Bayou Miste under her wacky love spell.”
“But it all worked out in the end. Lucie married Ben, Maurice
and DeeDee scheduled a Christmas wedding, and Elaine and Craig eloped. The whole magic thing couldn’t have turned out better. And Lucie’s been taking lessons from her grandmother.”
“Maybe that spell worked out all right, after a considerable amount of bad luck and a few murder attempts. But the one she put on Mo’s pet alligator gave the poor beast a bad case of puppy love for Granny Saulnier’s poodle. T-Rex still hasn’t gotten over it.”
“I don’t know what it is, honest. Lucie asked me to give it to you the next time I saw you. I did, and now my duty is done.” Calliope blinked, all innocence. “Maybe it’s a sachet you’re supposed to put in your drawer to make your clothes smell good.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not this stuff. It could make a grown man weep. I swear it has that rank odor of stump water.” She shoved the bag toward her friend. “Take it back to her. I don’t want to risk getting caught up in one of her crazy spells.”
“Oh, no.” Calliope held up her hands. “I’m not carrying that thing around. It might give me hair in places I have no business growing hair. Or worse, maybe it’ll make me lose hair that I shouldn’t. No, if you want Lucie to have it back, you’ll have to give it back to her yourself.”
“Fine, I will. Next time I’m in Baton Rouge.” She frowned at the sachet bag. “In the meantime, I have to put up with it. I hope it isn’t anything dangerous.”
The phone sang again and she fl opped down on the couch, pulling the pillow back over her head. “Why couldn’t I have had Lisa and Lucie’s mother, who stays gone for twenty years at a time?”
Calliope stood at the sound of the third ring. “Because your mother loves you, and you should be nicer to her.” She reached for the phone.
“Don’t do it, Calliope,” she warned. “If you value our friendship, you won’t touch that phone.”
Calliope cocked an eyebrow and punched the talk button. “Hello?” She listened. “Yes, Mrs. Boyette, Alex is right next to me. Sure. I’d be happy to relay the message. Seven o’clock? I’m sure that would be fi ne. Me, too? That would be nice. Good to talk to you, too, Mrs. Boyette. Bye, now.”
“What did she want?”
“You and I are invited to dinner at her house at seven tomorrow night. Oh, and put on that slinky red dress you wore to
Lucie’s bachelorette party.”
“My mother said that?”
“Well, most of it.” Calliope grinned. “I added the part about the dress.”
“Thanks a lot. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” She dripped sarcasm. “But I’m willing to try it.”
Her friend dropped into the chair and tucked her legs underneath her. “I heard Lucie’s grandmère LeBieu has been coaching her on Voodoo again.”
Alex punched her pillow and set it against the arm of the couch. “Should we consider moving to another state?”
The redhead tipped her head to the side as if considering. “Possibly.”
“Geesh. I just got the gym operating in the black, I’d hate to sell and start somewhere else.”
Calliope’s eyes lit up. “We could move to Biloxi.”
With a very unladylike “Ha!” Alex stood and paced around the room. “That’s the last place you need to move.” “Why?” Her friend blinked.
“Don’t play dumb with me.” She stopped in front of Calliope, planting her hands on her hips. “Biloxi would be entirely too much temptation for you. With a casino on every corner, it would be like navigating a minefi eld.”
“I’m not that hooked on gambling. Besides, I could get a job in one of the casinos.” Calliope’s eyes twinkled and an excited grin spread across her face. “The pay and tips would beat what I get at the Raccoon Saloon.”
“You should be happy you landed Lucie’s old job. She got great tips.”
“So, I guess moving is out of the question.” Calliope’s smile turned downward and she heaved a sigh. “I miss Lucie.”
“Me, too,” Alex said. “Why do things have to change?”
“Yeah,” Calliope sighed again. “Why do people have to get married and move away?”
“Although Lucie seems very happy.” She could still picture Lucie’s glowing face at the wedding. How on earth had she lucked into fi nding the love of her life here in Bayou Miste?
Calliope’s eyes got all dreamy. “Do you think we’ll ever fi nd someone to love as much as Lucie loves Ben?”
“Not me. I only date guys from hell.”
“Like Theo?”
Alex rolled her eyes. “Why can’t that bonehead take the hint?”
“Still botherin’ you?”
As if to prove her point, her phone sang the theme for Jaws, the da-dum, da-dum sound grating on every last one of her nerves. She launched herself across the coffee table, snatched the phone, and cocked her arm to throw.
Calliope grabbed the device from her hand before she could let go. “Hey, don’t ruin a perfectly good cell phone because of a guy.”
Alex drew in a long breath and let out the tension with her exhale. “You’re right. You’re right. I’d miss my phone more than Theo.”
“Not all guys are like Theo, you know,” her friend pointed out.
“You haven’t seen the ones my mom keeps throwing at me.” Alex settled back on the couch and hugged a pillow to her chest. “I don’t know where she gets them, but they’ve all had major ‘me’ hang-ups.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s always all about the guy.” She sighed as she wandered around her tastefully decorated living room, where everything had a place and everything was in it. “Why can’t I fi nd a guy who thinks I hung the moon? A partner who will love me even when I’m majorly PMSing. Someone who will love me unconditionally, no matter how bad a day he’s had.”
As if he sensed how upset she was, Sport, Alex’s golden retriever, trotted across the room and sat at her feet, his tail sweeping the fl oor in a steady rhythm. He stared up at her, mouth hanging open as though he was smiling at her, his eyes pleading, Pet me!
She reached down and scratched behind his ears. “I don’t think I’ll ever fi nd someone to love me like that.” “Sport loves you like that.” Calliope giggled.
She laughed. “You know, Calliope, you’re right. I need a guy like Sport. One who will greet me at the door, always happy to see me. Someone who can forgive me for forgetting his birthday. Someone who’s happy no matter what I feed him, or how fat I get.” She squatted next to Sport and hugged him around his neck. “Wouldn’t it be neat if Sport were a man?”
“Defi nitely.” Alex loved the silky feel of Sport’s coat against her cheek. He loved her no matter what. “I wish he were a man.
Then maybe my mother would quit trying to set me up.”
“Hey, Sport.” Calliope snapped her fi ngers. “Come here.”
The dog laid a long wet tongue across Alex’s cheek and wiggled loose to go to Calliope.
“How would you like to be a man?” The redhead rubbed her hand in his thick fur. “I bet you’d be really sexy, huh, boy? All long legs and golden hair, and a killer smile.”
“You’re torturing me.” Alex stood and brushed the dog hair off her workout pants. “I have to get ready for work. Would you mind taking Sport out for a walk?”
“I’d love to.” Calliope leaped from her chair. “Wanna go outside, boy?” She reached for the leash hanging on a hook inside the coat closet.
“Just don’t let him whiz on Miz Mozelle’s rose bushes. She never says anything, but I’m sure she doesn’t appreciate it. I don’t know what it is about her rose bushes that inspires him to grace them.”
“We’ll steer clear.” Calliope snapped the lead on Sport’s collar.
“And watch out for Granny Saulnier’s poodle.”
“FeFe?”
“Sport has a thing for her. If you’re not careful, he’ll yank your arm out of its socket going after her.”
“I’ll be careful.” Calliope paused with her hand on the front doorknob and looked back with her eyebrows raised. “Anything else before we go for a nice walk?”
“Get out of here.” With a smile, Alex lobbed a pillow at Calliope as she and Sport exited.
Later that night, Alex lay in her bed, Lucie’s Voodoo pouch lying on the pillow beside her. She’d had a particularly tough aerobics session at the gym and her muscles ached. But something was bothering her.
She lifted her cell phone and dialed.
“Hello?” Lucie’s sleepy voice answered.
“Did I catch you doing something I only dream about?” she asked.
“Sleeping?”
“Never mind.” She stroked the red velvet bag. “Is Ben home?”
“No, he’s putting in a late day with the prosecuting attorney.
You know, his criminal investigation stuff.”
“What, and leaving his pregnant wife to fend for herself? Who’s going to make the run to the convenience store for your latest cravings of sardines and pickles?”
“He’s got orders to pick some up on the way home. How are you, Alex?”
“Great. I’m in the best shape I’ve been in a long time, I’m healthy, my business is booming, and I’ve never been happier.” Geez, she sounded like a broken record. A pathetic broken record, at that.
“Lonely, huh?”
That empty feeling gripped her belly and she automatically reached over the side of her bed to pat Sport’s head. His wet nose nuzzled her hand. Was she lonely? Was that why she’d called Lucie in the fi rst place? “Yeah, a little.”
“Consider yourself hugged.”
“Thanks.” But a real hug would have been much warmer.
From a real man—even better.
“Did Calliope give you the present?”
“Yeah. Actually, that’s why I called.” Alex lifted the pouch in her hand. “What is it?”
“A smidgen of Voodoo good luck for one of my best friends.”
She grimaced. “Uh, gee thanks, Lucie. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me.”
“Relax, Alex.” Lucie laughed into her ear. “You won’t wake up as a frog or anything. My grandmother helped me with it, so don’t worry.”
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am.” Only slightly. Madame LeBieu knew her stuff. As the well-renowned Voodoo queen of the bayou, her spells always worked the way she intended. Unlike Lucie’s…
“I can tell you’re not thrilled.” Lucie laughed. “Gran watched me every step of the way. She loves you like another granddaughter.
Why would she propose something that would hurt you?”
“Let me remind you, she turned Craig Thibodeaux into a frog,” Alex said, her voice fl at.
“Yeah, but it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” Lucie sighed. “I love you, Alex. I just want you to be happy.”
“I’m happy.” Her hand tightened on the phone. “Why can’t everyone fi gure that out?”
“Maybe you protest too much?”
“I’m not protesting.” Alex realized as she said it that she was doing just that. Her lips clamped shut.
“Is it a crime to want all my friends to be as happy as I am?” Lucie’s voice drifted off.
Alex could imagine Lucie patting her swelling belly, and a sudden surge of maternal longing struck her right between the breasts. Why was she mooning over having a baby? Hell, she’d helped raise her younger brothers and sisters. All seventeen of them. “I’m happy. Really.” Even to her own ears, her voice wasn’t very convincing.
“Give the Voodoo charm a chance, Alex. That’s all I ask.” Lucie’s voice cut through her ill temper and she relented. “Assuming I give it a chance, what is it supposed to do?”
A long pause met her question. Not a good sign. “I’m not exactly sure. Gran LeBieu said it would bring you good luck.” “In terms of what?” A chill swept down Alex’s spine.
A whimpering sound rose from the fl oor beside her. Sport must have sensed her unease.
“It’s okay. Really. Gran LeBieu wouldn’t give you anything that would hurt you.”
“I’m shaking in my sheets here.”
“Look, if you don’t want it, bring it back with you the next time you’re in Baton Rouge.”
“I will.”
“And when will that be?” Lucie demanded.
“As soon as I can break free from the gym.” Alex knew that was an excuse. The thought of visiting Lucie in all her happy, pregnant glory made her own life look boring, lackluster, and downright sad.
“You’re working too hard, sweetie. Let Harry take over for a weekend. You need some down time.”
She straightened her shoulders, refusing to give into downheartedness. “No, I like being busy.”
“And you like going home alone?”
“Yes.”
“Honey, it’ll happen for you,” Lucie said. “When you least expect it, love will knock you over.”
“Like it happened with you?” Alex snorted. “I don’t want to fall in love because of a Voodoo love potion. I want a man who loves me for me.”
“Much as I’d like to take credit, my love spell never worked. Gran LeBieu confi rmed it had to be cast by a love bug. If you remember, we couldn’t fi nd one, so we used a ladybug. She let me think it worked to teach me a lesson.”
“What?” Alex shook her head. “You mean my dumb brother didn’t need a kick in the pants to tell you he loved you?”
“Maybe he needed that kick in the pants, but he didn’t need the love spell.”
“I knew that already,” Alex said. She didn’t know whether Lucie’s news was good or bad. If the love spell hadn’t worked, what were her chances at love? She fi ngered the velvet bag. “So, Lucie, what is this bag, really?”
“Gran LeBieu said it would help make your wishes come true.”
Alex shuddered. “Kinda like my genie in a bottle?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I just thought you needed a tad of a push, a boost to get you started.”
“Look, Lucie, just because you’re in love and that makes you happy, doesn’t mean I have to be in love to be happy.” But she had been pretty lonely since Lucie left. And she hadn’t had a decent date in…when her visual memories started dating back to high school and she couldn’t name a single unforgettable—happily they’d been forgettable—date, she grimaced. “Okay, I’ll keep
your gift for now, but I’m still not convinced I need it.”
“Which makes me all the more convinced you do.”
“I have my own business, my own home, and a wonderful, if meddling, family. I don’t need a love interest.”
“Oh, Alex. You’re my best friend in the world and I only wish you could feel how I feel.”
“That’s you, honey. And I’m happy for you.” She didn’t add, “and I miss you like crazy.” Why mar Lucie’s happiness?
“Oh, Ben just walked in,” Lucie said. “Hey, cher, anything you want to say to your baby sister?”
The distinct sound of smacking noises carried across the line and Lucie giggled. “Beeennn, I’m on the phone with your sister.” Another giggle.
A pang of longing twisted in Alex’s gut. Again. What the hell was going on?
“Alex? That you?” Ben’s voice blasted into Alex’s ear.
“Yeah, bro.”
“Lucie’s gotta go now.”
More giggling erupted in the background and an indignant, “Ben! What about the baby?”
“Look, I have some ironing to do,” Alex said. Suddenly, she couldn’t stand listening to their playful antics on the phone.
“Yeah, okay,” Ben said, obviously distracted.
“Tell Lucie I’ll call tomorrow.”
“Gotcha—damn…” A loud clunk was followed by the dead air of being disconnected.
Alex plugged the phone into the charger on the nightstand and turned off the light, fi ghting the strange pressure in her chest.
What was wrong with her? She was happy. She sniffed. Was she coming down with a cold? Were her glands swelling in her throat, choking off her air?
A tear slid down her cheek. Oh, hell. She didn’t need this. Selfpity was for weenies, not for black belts in karate or really kick-ass business owners.
She fl ung her hand out, bouncing it off the empty pillow beside her. The velvet pouch bumped against her fi ngers.
“Sport?”
After a brief pause, a cold, wet nose poked up over the side of the bed.
“I’m so lucky to have you.” She ran her hand over his velvety snout. A long tongue snaked out and licked her fi ngers.
Sport was always there for her without being annoying or obsessive. She shivered. She’d had her share of boyfriends and stalkers. She’d rather remain celibate than go through that again.
But deep down, she ached for that closeness. And hell, she hadn’t had sex since Theo, and that hadn’t been stellar, she wondered if she remembered how to have good sex. Was she going to die one of those frigid old maids destined to read erotic romance novels to get her jollies?
I’m pathetic.
And her mother would drive her stark-raving mad if she didn’t quit shoving fresh meat at her every chance she got.
“Oh, Sport, I wish you were a man. That would solve all my problems.” She settled against her pillow and closed her eyes. “It would take a lot of magic to get my mother to back off. I’m not even sure having my own choice of a boyfriend will satisfy the woman.” She yawned and snuggled in, pulling the comforter up to her chin to ward off the chill of the air conditioner.
As she drifted into a half-awake, half-asleep state, the bed sank down on the far side. Sport had leaped up beside her.
Too tired to tell him to get down, she gave up and let go.
A thrumming sound fi lled her dreams, building into a full bass echo of drums. Somewhere in the back of her sleep-numbed mind, she recognized the drums as those that played at the Voodoo ceremonies Madame LeBieu conducted on those rare occasions when a little extra oomph was needed to initiate one of her spells.
Just as Alex succumbed to oblivion, an eerie chant echoed through her head. Wishes come true. Wishes come true. Wishes come true.
She sighed and gave in to the magic.
If only wishes really came true.