Page 57 of Sweaty Nights & Gator Bites

Downloadthe next book in the Twisted Sisters Midlife Maelstrom series, Lagniappe & Lost Legends HERE! Then turn the page for a preview.

EXCERPT FROM LANIAGAPPE & LOST LEGENDS TWISTED SISTERS BOOK #13

DAHLIA

Iwas attempting to manufacture the perfect moment of tranquility with the desperate determination of someone who knew better. I’d draped myself across my favorite armchair like a Renaissance nude. I had even positioned myself precisely where the late afternoon light created a halo of warmth. The leather beneath me was worn to a butter-soft patina from countless hours of literary escapes prior to my magical life. It still cradled me like an old friend. My second energy drink of the day—because who could sleep when your city's magical feel had the stability of a house of cards?—condensed quietly on Dani's latest antiquing trophy. The side table had enough character to write its own memoir. It was a perfect addition to the plantation.

My tablet balanced precariously on my lap. My latest literary acquisition was open on the screen. Still page one. I kept willing my eyes to focus on the words with the sameintensity I usually reserved for willing my roux to cook faster.

"These curtains," I mused aloud as my gaze wandered to the windows like a prisoner seeking parole. "Worth every exorbitant penny." The lie tasted almost believable. Dani had insisted on them during our latest bout of redecorating. She’d spouted phrases like "elevate the space" and "transform the aesthetic" with the fervor of a convert to the Church of Interior Design. I had to admit that they did make our sprawling plantation house feel less like a supernatural waystation and more like home. It was no small feat, considering I shared it with Dani, our mates, and whatever member of our extended family needed sanctuary from the latest magical crisis.

At that moment, everything was perfect. Peaceful. Pristine. And that's precisely why every nerve in my body was screaming red alert. Since Phoebe had unlocked our magical DNA and turned our lives into a supernatural crisis management firm, the universe had developed a particularly sadistic sense of timing. The moment you dared to exhale, reality would gleefully yank the rug out from under you. Yet here I was, playing the role of the oblivious protagonist in every horror movie ever made. I sat there foolishly believing I could steal one afternoon of normalcy.

The phone's ring shattered my carefully constructed illusion of serenity like a sledgehammer through spun glass. One glance at the screen had me inventing new combinations of profanity that would make a sailor blush. Hollie from the Solid Solutions. She wasn't exactly on my speed dial for casual chitchat about the weather. That could only mean one thing. My attempted date with literary escape was about to turn into another supernatural fire drill.

"Hello?" I answered. I tried to infuse my voice withsomething other than preemptive exhaustion and likely failed miserably.

"Lia!" Hollie's voice achieved a pitch that probably sent every dog in Louisiana into a howling frenzy. "Thank goodness! You guys have to come quickly—" A crash resonated through the speaker. It was followed by the distinctive sound of something heavy breaking. "Oh God, not the rose quartz! There's something strange happening. Objects are moving by themselves. The lights keep flickering, and these whispers... I can't understand what they're saying, but they're everywhere!"

Fan-fucking-tastic. So much for my peaceful afternoon. "Stay calm," I instructed as I mentally kissed my quiet time goodbye while also wondering why she hadn’t called our new hotline. The magical world was slow to change and even slower in embracing it. Not that we wouldn’t have been notified if she had used the call system my sisters and I had instituted. "I’ll grab my sisters and we will be there in less than a half hour."

"Please hurry! The energy feels wrong, and—" Another crash. "That was my favorite display!" The call cut off abruptly, which did nothing to improve my mood.

I fired off quick texts to Dea and Phi, who were at their full-time jobs, to meet Dre, Dani, Kota, and me at the shop. I kept it simple. "911 at Solid Solutions. Possible poltergeist." That was my best guess given what Hollie had described.

I grabbed our emergency bags when I passed them on my way to hunt for my other sisters. We'd learned the hard way to keep emergency magical supplies gathered and ready. When supernatural shit hit the fan in New Orleans, it tended to splatter everywhere. I found Dani, Dre, and Kota in our gift shop. They were reorganizing displays. Again. Dani and Kota were worse than a bunch of caffeinated squirrels sometimes. They were always moving things around "to optimizecustomer flow" or whatever Pinterest-inspired reason they had this week. Dre and Cami stood aside giving them their opinion.

"Did we get new stock? Or did things just feel off?" I planted myself in the doorway with our emergency bags dangling from my hands.

Dani looked up from a box of crystals, her dark blonde hair falling over one eye. "We bought some voodoo dolls to sell to the tourists. Everyone thinks they're a New Orleans staple. We decided to profit from the misnomer." She nodded toward the collection of intricately crafted dolls. Each one sported different colored pins and was wearing ragged, yet colorful outfits.

"These will probably earn enough to pay the overhead for the store," Dre said from her perch near the counter. "Besides, they add a certainje ne sais quoito the crystal displays."

Our sister, Kota, paused mid-shelf arrangement. She had a mug frozen in her hand. "More like lagniappe—a little something extra to either bless or curse our customers."

“You're going to have to finish this later. We've got a live one,” I interjected.

"Define 'live one.' Because the last time you said that, we all ended up chest-deep in swamp water chasing a killer. Phi still hasn't forgiven us for ruining her new boots," Kota replied.

I sighed and thought about the deaths near the gator shifter’s land. That had been a challenging case. "From the sound of it, Hollie's shop has gone full poltergeist. And before you ask, I mean moving objects, flickering lights, creepy whispers. The usual horror movie starter pack."

"That's not your average haunting," Dre pointed out as she straightened.

"No shit." I adjusted the bags to my other hand. "Hopefully, it’ll just be a pissed-off ghost for Dea to handle. My gut says we're not that lucky."

"When are we ever that lucky?" Kota grumbled as she moved toward the door. "Remember the LaLaurie mansion? That was supposed to be a 'simple haunting' too."

"Don't remind me," Dani groaned, grabbing her jacket. "I still have nightmares about that one." We all did. That evil woman’s spirit had tried to resume her murderous ways. It wasn’t easy to stop her.

“I’ll continue with the display while you guys are gone,” Cami offered. She’d become an integral part of the plantation after she was brought back as a ghoul. “It won’t be as good as you would do, but it’ll be done for now.”

Dani smiled and nodded. “It’ll be great. Thank you.”

We piled into my car. I navigated across town and through the French Quarter's narrow streets. I dodged tourists who apparently thought crosswalks were optional decorations. Then there were the street performers who seemed determined to set up shop in the middle of the road. "I swear they're getting worse," I muttered as I swerved around a guy juggling flaming batons. "The tourists, not the performers."

"At least the street performers are good this season," Dre said from the backseat. "That guy doing contact juggling outside Café du Monde yesterday? With those obsidian spheres that seemed to swallow the light?"

"You mean the warlock trying to pass off actual magic as performance art?" Kota snorted. "Subtle as a sledgehammer. I saw him pull shadows right out of the air when he thought no one was looking. I nearly dropped my beignet."

---