Voodoo and Vodka: A Swamp Bottom Novella

by K. A. Ware

  Voodoo And Vodka

  A Swamp Bottom Novella

  K.A. Ware

  Cora Kenborn

  Twisted Publishing

  Contents

  A LETTER FROM THE AUTHORS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Hook-ups & Hang-ups

  Acknowledgments

  About the authors

  Stalk Us Online

  ALSO BY K.A. WARE AND CORA KENBORN

  Copyright © 2017 by Twisted Publishing

  e-book Edition

  All Rights Reserved

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Editing by R.R. Carlos

  Cover Design by Bite Me Graphic Design

  https://facebook.com/bitemegraphicdesign

  Created with Vellum

  To our Swamp Bitches, Michelle, Heather, Meagan, Stracey, Misty, Crystal, and Cattigan.

  Thank you for your support and enthusiasm for these stories.

  #LongLiveKJBCB

  A LETTER FROM THE AUTHORS

  Hello beautiful readers!

  We wanted to start off by thanking you for your interest in our brain child. This series is a labor of love for us, and we are beyond excited to share it with you. First of all, a warning. This is a series of novellas and each book ends in a cliffhanger... *pause for dramatic effect* However, a new installment will be released about every six weeks, so you won’t have to wait long for your next fix of these wacky Southern sisters.

  We hope you enjoy hitting swamp bottom.

  Love,

  K.A. and Cora

  Prologue

  Highway To Hurricanes

  Savannah

  Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana

  "I'm kidnapping you," I announced.

  Addie halted half-way up the steps leading to the porch. "Pardon?"

  I heaved a sigh and stood from Babs’s old rocker. "You've been working nonstop since we got back from Shreveport. Hell, I've even been working too hard. We need to get away and live a little."

  "It's Monday, Sav. Normal people are just starting their work week."

  Placing my hands on my hips, I pinned her with a look. "But you're not normal. Seriously, I’m taking you out for a drink. You haven't taken a day off in almost two weeks. Between getting the financials worked out, and going at it with Zep every five fucking minutes, you've got to be exhausted."

  Addie’s jaw clenched at the mention of his name. "I’m not going at anything with Zep LeBlanc."

  "Please, you two are at each other’s throats in a hot minute any time you're within thirty feet of each other. Actually, if you two were going at it, maybe you'd both be in a better mood."

  Lifting her lip in a sneer, she made an extremely unladylike noise from the back of her throat. "Ugh, you're disgusting! Zep is the vilest man I've ever met. Contracting syphilis would be more enjoyable than a night with that brute."

  "Me thinks thou dost protest too much," I sing-songed.

  "Bite me."

  Savannah’s missile to Adelaide’s last fucking nerve, success!

  An evil grin pulled at my lips. "Oh, did that hit a little too close to home?"

  "If I agree to take a day off with you, will you shut up about Zep?"

  "Two and you've got a deal,” I agreed, sticking my hand out to shake.

  Addie reluctantly grabbed my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "Fine. Just stop looking at me like that."

  "Just saying, there's a fine line between love and hate."

  "Savannah!"

  "Okay, okay, sorry. Last one, I swear."

  At least until I get you in the car where you can’t run away.

  Addie just rolled her eyes at me. I wasn’t sure how she managed to look dignified while doing it.

  “Chop, chop, Sister Christian! I even got a piggy sitter, just for you.” Over the past few weeks, Kevin and Addie had come to a tentative truce. He’d stopped crapping in her shoes, and she’d stopped threatening him with processed pork products, but they had a long way to go before we’d be making our way to Walmart for a family portrait.

  “Where are we going? Should I change?”

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. My sister cared far too much about being appropriately dressed, no matter the situation. “I told you, we’re going out for a drink. What you’re wearing is fine. Now move your ass!” I urged, pushing her back down the stairs and towards the Viking Mobile.

  It took the threat of bodily harm and bloodshed, but I finally managed to convince Addie to get in the damn van. Not wanting to give her the opportunity to change her mind, I cranked the engine, and we were off.

  We rode in silence as I sped through town, Addie clearly giving me the silent treatment over being forced to ride in a van with giant tits painted on the sides. I’d thought about painting over the atrocity, but it’d grown on me, and I got a kick out of making Addie ride in it.

  “I thought we were going out for a drink?” Addie questioned as I merged onto the highway.

  “We are, but I want a Hurricane.”

  She threw up her hands in frustration. “Sav, I’m exhausted, and I don’t have the energy to play your games right now. What are we doing?”

  “We, my dear sister, are going to Mardi Gras.”

  “We’re what?” Addie screamed.

  I threw my head back and cackled, my laughter ringing out into the evening air. Whether she liked it or not, my sister was on this adventure with me and what a ride it would be.

  Chapter 1

  Project Stickectomy

  Savannah

  10 miles outside of New Orleans, Louisiana

  Addie glared at me through the windshield as she made her way back to the van. If looks could kill, I would’ve been dead and cold before we’d made it out of Terrebonne Parish.

  She let out a little growl as she climbed in and slammed the old door with more force than necessary. “I can’t believe you made me change in a Waffle House!”

  “I told you to change in the back, but you threw a fit. Not my fault the only place off the highway was a Waffle House. What was it you said? You were afraid you’d catch scabies? What did you find in there?”

  “Between the fifty-year-old carpet and the pig, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten a staph infection riding around in this abomination. I don’t understand why you insisted I change in the f
irst place. You told me what I was wearing was fine at the house,” Addie huffed, ignoring my question.

  “I lied. I’m sick of the convent-chic look; it screams uptight man-hater and that won’t do. Besides, it’s well past time for your stickectomy.”

  She flicked her sharp eyes toward me. “My what?”

  I couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. “Stickectomy, the removal of that giant stick you’ve got shoved up your ass.”

  “Classy, Sav,” Addie mocked as I pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the highway.

  “You’ve been out from under Shit Stain’s thumb for almost two months, and all you’ve done with your new-found freedom is work and fight with Zep.”

  “It’s not my fault that he’s insufferable,” she mumbled, turning to look out the window.

  She wanted to say something else. I could feel it in my bones, but she didn’t want to give me any ammunition.

  “Whatever you have to tell yourself. Either way, this trip is going to be Zep-free, and maybe you’ll even get your groove back.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her suggestively, drawing a reluctant smile out of my sister.

  She’d been artfully dodging my probing questions about her past with the bearded Adonis since we’d returned from Shreveport. She’d put up a valiant effort, I’d give her that, but I had a plan. If she wasn’t going to willingly spill the beans, I was going to use the only truth serum I knew to be fool proof…

  Vodka.

  “You ready to get your drank on?” I asked, navigating the beast of a vehicle into a small parking lot. I’d been surprised and delighted when we’d found a parking space on the outskirts of the French Quarter. In fact, it was a miracle given the time of day and the mass of bodies spilling from the sidewalks into the street. I took it all in as another sign solidifying my faith in the plan I’d dubbed Operation Stickectomy.

  “What’s your plan?” Addie asked, ignoring my question.

  Since when did Adelaide read minds?

  “What plan?” I hedged, wondering what kind of voodoo this place had already cast on my sister.

  She pinned me with a stare that screamed ‘I am so over Savvy’s shit.’ “Well, you brought me all the way here during Mardi Gras, Sav. Did you book a hotel or make reservations for dinner? You do realize this parking lot is pay to park, right? Did you bring cash? Did you plan any of this at all?”

  I sucked on my teeth and took a moment to contemplate her rapid-fire questions. I’d heard that tone from almost everyone in my life.

  “Ads, I get it, okay? You think I’m a flake; everyone thinks I’m a flake. They’re not wrong, but you know what? If you plan each moment of your life and arrange, schedule, and prepare for every possible situation, you forget to appreciate the experience. How are you going to discover new things if you never give yourself the opportunity to make a mistake?”

  She didn’t answer me right away, and I didn’t press her for more. I sat back and watched the emotions flit across her face as she stared at the windshield. Her shoulders slowly loosened, while her body visibly relaxed. Still, I waited.

  Addie was the kind of person who needed time to work through things in her head. If I interrupted her while she mulled it over, I’d have to argue my case all over again. I watched as her eyes fell closed in defeat, and hope surged in my chest. With a deep sigh, she turned and pinned me with a look.

  “You’re right. I’ve been a bit of a control freak lately.”

  I couldn’t help the snort that escaped me.

  “Shut it,” Addie scolded. “My entire world got flipped on its ass, and I’ve been desperately grasping at any semblance of order. There was so much in my life I had no control over when I was with ‘He Who Shall Not Be Named.’ I guess I went a little crazy trying to make sure no one ever forced me to do something I didn’t want to do again that I forgot to ask myself what I did want. You know, I’ve always had this idea that if I was responsible and followed the rules that I’d be happy. Instead, all it got me was a decade of self-imposed orgasms and a future as a bag lady.”

  “Addie…” I interrupted, hating to see her in a self-deprecating shame spiral, but she waved me away with a swipe of her hand.

  “No, listen to me, Sav. I look at you, how free you are, and I wish I could be like that. I wish I could re-create myself whenever I wanted. You know, go with the flow and see where the stream takes me, but it’s not how I’m programed. I can’t just flip a switch and reinvent myself overnight.”

  “No one’s asking you to,” I argued. I didn’t want her to think I wanted to change who she was. I just wanted the sister back who could enjoy herself.

  “I know,” she said softly. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m willing to try. I’ll never be excited to ride in the Viking Mobile, but I can try to let go and appreciate the experience.

  The grin that pulled at the corners of my lips was involuntary. It felt like she’d finally heard me, and for the first time since Operation Stickectomy had formulated in my head, I had hope that my crazy plan might work.

  My optimism lasted all of five minutes.

  We’d made it ten steps from the van when I heard Addie gasp beside me. “What the—oh my God! Is that guy peeing on the street?” she hissed.

  I cringed slightly at the sight of the disheveled man relieving himself between two parked cars. It was gross, but I wasn’t about to let a little indecent exposure ruin my plans. I shrugged and wiggled my eyebrows at my sister. "Let's hope he's got good aim. From the looks of him, I'm guessing he's had a few. I'd be willing to bet his piss has some serious paint peeling power."

  "Lord have mercy," Addie choked out, barely holding back a gag.

  “You said you’d try, remember?”

  She huffed and pulled her jacket tighter around herself, pushing on down the sidewalk. I hurried to keep up with her long strides. My big sister stood tall and elegant with long legs and a grace I could never dream of possessing. On the contrary, I resembled more of a clumsy pint-sized version of her, much like the off-brand Barbie Dolls sold at Dollar General.

  The buzz of people and music drifted toward us as we made our way into the French Quarter. Before we knew it, we stood on the edge Bourbon Street, staring at the biggest party I’d ever seen. My stomach fluttered with excitement, and my body practically buzzed with anticipation. The energy coming off the crowd was wild and it was still relatively early.

  My heart sank though, when I glanced up at my sister and saw the terrified expression on her face. Shifting my attention back to Bourbon Street, I tried to absorb the scene through her eyes. Throngs of people filled every available space, flowing like a river of bodies running through the street. More people spilled out of French doors onto ornate iron balconies, and beads rained down from the sky into a sea of reaching hands.

  An overweight man with long blue dreads, a pink tutu, fairy wings, and nothing else streaked by, causing Addie to jump off her safe perch on the curb to avoid being trampled.

  “Shit!” I screamed, lunging for her before the crowd completely swallowed her. I managed to grab her hand, but the current was too strong. Instead of pulling her to safety, I was sucked into the heart of the mob with her.

  “Savvy!” she called out with panic stricken eyes.

  “It’s like a mosh pit, just keep moving your feet!” I shouted back, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  “I’ve never been to a concert!” If possible, her eyes seemed bigger than before. I couldn’t help the smile that nearly split my face in two and let out a little whoop.

  At the first break in the wall of bodies, I pulled Addie onto the curb with me as both of us fought to catch our breath.

  Addie pulled at the collar of her shirt. “I feel like I just got humped by a mob of frat boys.”

  We shared a look and burst out laughing. Leaning against the side of a building while collecting ourselves, I happily noticed my sister seemed to be enjoying herself.

  “Welcome to the beautiful chaos of life, big s
is.”

  “Beautiful chaos, huh?” She smirked.

  I laughed again. It was a bit cheesy, but not untrue. A glowing neon sign behind her head caught my eye.

  Praise the Voodoo Gods.

  “You ready for your next adventure?”

  Addie gave me a startled look. “What? I don’t like that face, Sav. That’s your scheming face.”

  “Come on, don’t you want to know what your future holds?” The worried lines in her forehead deepened, I pointed to the sign I’d spotted behind her head.

  “A psychic?”

  “Why not?”

  She threw her hands up, “What the hell. You only live once, right?”

  I felt my mouth drop open in pure shock. “Did you just YOLO me?”

  Addie flashed me a smile that showed all her teeth. “Yeah, I think I did.”

  “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s see what this Madame Laroux has to say about the Dubois sisters’ future.”

  The heavy scent of incense and a jingling bell greeted us when we stepped through the brightly painted door. Tapestries hung from the walls, accented by strands of assorted beads, and a full beaded curtain covered a small doorway behind the counter. Candles and odd statues of deities I didn't recognize were placed carefully on several small tables and shelves. Dried bundles of herbs, and what looked like a hundred glass jars of incense sticks, lined one wall. I was in gypsy heaven. Addie, on the other hand, looked like she deeply regretted her decision to go along with my idea.

  Before she could voice her concerns, the beaded curtain parted and a woman wrapped in a colorful swath of fabric entered the main room.

  "You've come to see what the future holds," the woman noted with an even tone. She didn't pose it as a question, rather a statement. It was as if she'd been waiting for us. Her voice was thick with an accent I didn't recognize immediately. Caribbean maybe? It definitely wasn't the heavy Cajun inflection I’d grown accustomed to growing up in the bayou.