By Adrian Phoenix
“An eye for an eye fixed is rarely enough.” Kallie Rivière, a Cajun hoodoo apprentice with an inclination for hassle, realized the that means of these ominous phrases whilst hoodoo bogeyman healthcare professional Heron detailed her family members for revenge. Now, whereas trying to find her still-missing bayou pirate cousin, Kallie reveals out the difficult approach that somebody is undoing strong gris gris, this means that operating magic has turn into as unpredictable as rolling a handful of cube. The wards woven to guard the Gulf coast are unraveling, leaving New Orleans and the encompassing bayous weak simply as an unnatural storm—the deadliest in a century—is born. because the storm powers towards the center of all she loves, Kallie desperately searches for the reason for the worrying randomness, merely to profit a deeply unsettling fact: the wrongdoer might be herself. to guard her friends and family, together with the horny nomad Layne Vallin, Kallie steps into the jaws of chance . . . and unearths a loup garou designed to scouse borrow her heart—literally.
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Additional resources for Black Heart Loa
I can see the pulse pounding in your throat. ” “Focus on yo’ cousin, you,” Divinity urged. Kallie gritted her teeth against the urge to tell them both, No goddamned shit. Now shut the hell up and let me do what I know how to do already. Closing her eyes, Kallie drew in a deep breath of air scented with beeswax, the perfume of her aunt’s side-yard roses drifting in through the screen door, and the earthy odors of patchouli and frankincense from the herb- and root-cluttered worktable, and drew them deep into her lungs, ignoring the pain twinging through her sternum.
She thought of Layne Valin, the gorgeous nomad with the waist-length honey-blond dreads and lean, sexy body, redlining it back to New Orleans on his Harley. It hadn’t been that long since he’d left the house—he might not be too far away. “Layne could get me to Chacahoula in less than an hour,” Kallie said. “I can call him and—” Divinity gave a soft sigh, one laced with regret. “No, Kallie-girl, let dat boy be. Let him return to his clan. He’s got burdens enough, him. ” She shook her head. “Been years and years since I met a Vessel for de dead.
But his uneasy stance and shifting feet made a liar of him—or at least a partial liar. His fingers white-knuckled around the shotgun’s grip and gleaming steel barrel. ” Belladonna snorted. “Outlaw, please. Which is it? Shut up or talk? ” “He’s sounding like an eat-his-cake-and-have-it-too kinda guy,” Kallie said, switching the cards to her left hand and leaving her right empty. If he got close enough for her to throw a punch, she wanted to hit him with her strongest. She might not get a second shot.