Teaser from Voodoo Moon

Happy Tuesday to all my wicked bloggers! Here's the first couple of pages of my novella, Voodoo Moon, soon to be released from New Concepts Publishing in The Brood series.

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Voodoo Moon

1825 - Montego Bay, Jamaica - Rose Hall Plantation

Talin held his secret bride as she wept. Warm, wet tears moistened his chest as she wailed into him, begging him not to go.
“Shh, my love. I must. She willa kill me if I don’,”
Daisy shook her head fiercely, sobbing, crying out against what she could not stop. “She willa kill ya if ya go!”
“Der is no otter way round it! I will cahnvince her to let me live.”
Daisy shrieked at his meaning. “By bein’ a lover she cannah part wit?”
Talin picked her up and carried her to the bed like a sick child. He sat down and rocked her, speaking softly into her ear. Her sobs subsided. Her shaking slowed. She sniffed and took a shuddering breath before speaking. “I willa lose ya.”
“I’ll find a way outta dis.”
“How?” she whispered, touching his face where the candle light made a flickering shadow. “We are slaves! Nahtin mo. Tis only a month since she kilt her lahst lover and now she’s ahskin for ya.”
“I wohn’t allow her to kill me, Daisy,” he said sweeping two kisses onto her forehead. “I’ll keep her ’appy and come home to ya at first light.”
Daisy groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. “But for how long? What if she finds out ’bout our secret weddin‘? She’ll ’ave us both kilt!”
“Ya ’ave to trust me! Trust the magick!”
“No! You vowed to stay away from black magick! You promised nah mo voodoo!”
“Tat was befo I knew I’d be forced to lay with the White Witch. It’s the only way ta fight her. If I keep her happy, I stay alive. But you ’ave to trust me and ya ’ave to help me.”
“How?” Daisy asked, wiping her nose on her sleeve, looking past the chiseled chin that formed a shadow on her face.
“The voodoo will be mo powerful if ya perform the spells whi we’re lovin’ one anuther.”
“Ya and the White Witch? Ahhhhhhh! I can’t, Talin! To think of ya with her…”
“Stop it, Daisy! Do ya want to help or not? I canna fight her without ya. Tink of us. Tink of our love! We canna beat her without the utter.”
A tear slid down her smooth cheek. She nodded slowly, kissed his chest and forced a smile. “Teach me.”
“On the morrow. Nah I have the parchment paper with our names written in chicken’s blood. I’ll ’ide it and the peacock fedder unduh our pillow.”
“But the spell willa bind ya to her forevuh! Ya willa forget our love!”
“No! I’m stronger than the magick!”
“How do ya nawh?” she wailed as tears streamed down her face.
“I nawh. Ya nawh, my sweet.”
His large, brown hand moved over her leg, warming her. He stopped at her thigh and bent to kiss her, long and slow. He tasted her tears. Lips so soft, so full, so eager. She sighed into him, wrapping her slender arms around his neck. He groaned, sliding his hand over her smooth skin, finding her wetness, cupping her. She moaned as he touched her. His other hand cupped her ass, kneading it. She gasped when he held her breasts. Rough palms formed around perfect round softness. The image of seeing her for the first time, in shackles, scared and trembling, a new slave for the big house-flashed through his mind. He’d loved her the second he’d seen her, scared and alone. They’d grown up on the plantation and fallen deeply in love with one another. Now here they were, making love on the eve on his laying with the White Witch.
Talin rolled her onto the bed and pushed up her gown, exposing all of her. The sight of her in the candle glow brought tears to his eyes. This would be their final night together. He stood, stripped down to nothing and lay beside her, taking her face in his hands, kissing her lips, tasting her tears, breathing her in, memorizing the moment. He would need it later in order to survive nights upon nights with his master.
She arched her neck, letting him mark her one final time. With dark, urgent passion, he sucked her long, brown neck as she panted, loving it. Her nails dug into his back when he entered her. Their eyes locked, his fierce, holding on; hers wet, pleading, loving. Tears trickled down her face as he moved inside of her. She watched him watching her as she fought to keep her eyes open. Open for him. Neither of them wanted to lose one second of connection with the other. She thrashed beneath him, reaching, locking her arms over his shoulders, aching, longing for their night to never end. Another big thrust and he held himself within her, his breathing ragged, gazing down at the love of his life.
“Oh, Talin, my love,“ she whispered, smiling through her tears.
He bent to kiss them all away. “Don’t cry, my sweet.“ Then took her breast in his mouth, licking, sucking, teasing her nipple with his tongue, still watching the passion as it crossed her face. She cried out. Her hands held his smooth, bald head now glistening with sweat. With one bulging arm, he rolled her onto her back.
“Mmmm…” she hummed, moving on top of him.
They were fluid. One. Sweaty, smiling, loving one another and the closeness they’d both shared for years. Years spent in chains during the day. She worked as a house maid while he worked the cane fields. Though many house slaves of the day walked about freely, the White Witch would not allow it. All of her property were in chains until nightfall when they were allowed to go to their shanty homes behind the cane fields. One room shacks made from straw and palm leaves. It was here that Talin and Daisy felt free. Free like the warm Carribean that roared behind them, rolling in and out. Tonight the winds blew harder as the ocean rushed onto the white sands. The straw door beat against it’s frame. The candle flickered, dancing shadows onto locked hands, loving one another long into the Jamaican night.
“My wife…I love ya.”
Daisy cried out, arching her back, leaning into the pleasure shooting into her, blazing like warm streaks of brightest sunshine, smooth yet bright. Caressing her, soothing her pain. Horror lay ahead for them both. Dark, black magick. Ancient Haitian voodoo. Evil stirred around them. Talin growled, on edge, pulling her to him, devouring her lips with his, biting, kissing, drawing her tongue into his mouth, grabbing her hair into his fist. “Daisy!”
The door slammed open and shut, open and shut. Salty air blew into the room, blowing out the candle. A thin, gray line of smoke curled over their heads. Talin sat up, kissing her, palming both breasts with his hands, thumbing her nipples. She bit his lip. Drew blood. Tasting it with his kiss as they danced together. He inside of her, twirling, swirling, staring into each other’s souls; beyond the eyes, beyond the heartbeat, beyond their spiritual connection, reaching for what would hold them steady, bind them together, unbroken and pure.
The darkness of both their lives soared before them. Flat out and full speed ahead as a tropical storm blew onto the island, foreshadowing wicked things to come. Blackest dread filled their hearts as they cried out, shouting against the wind, filling each other with a love like no other. A love borne of survival, among their people, among the warm Jamaican winds that soothed their dark skin and sad hearts in a time that needed hope and something worth living for.

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