Casually Cursed (A Southern Witch Novel) - Softcover

Frost, Kimberly

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0425267830 ISBN 13: 9780425267837

Publisher: Berkley, 2015

Synopsis

From the national bestselling author of Slightly Spellbound comes the latest Southern Witch novel featuring Tammy Jo Trask.

Tammy Jo rarely sets a toe outside Texas, but when she learns her mother is in trouble, Tammy is determined to save her—even if it means going to hell and back...

Fresh off her engagement to wizard Bryn Lyons, Tammy Jo is surprised to make another new family connection when she meets the twin sister she never knew she had. After being spirited away to the fae kingdom of Never as an infant, Kismet has finally escaped, and arrived in Duvall, Texas, with some terrible news:  their mother, Marlee, is a prisoner of the Seelie fae.
 
Crossing the ocean to battle the fae isn’t Tammy Jo’s idea of a romantic getaway, but Bryn refuses to let her go alone—as do her aunt Edie and her ex-husband Zach. Unfortunately, their plot to free Marlee is foiled when they are caught by the fae queen. And the only chance the queen gives them to save Marlee’s life may be an impossible quest...

About this title

About the Author:

Kimberly Frost is currently at home in a small town known as Houston where she is taking dictation from her characters and working on the next book in the Southern Witch series (Would-Be Witch, Halfway Hexed, Slightly Spellbound).

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

PROLOGUE

Eighteen Years Ago

FROM UNDER THE brim of a large straw hat, Melanie Trask glanced at her sister, Marlee, who tackled the weeds in their flower beds like they were vermin that might attack the house at any moment. Mar might not be interested in botany, but she did her part to keep their supply of witch’s herbs healthy and flourishing.

“Tammy Jo, put your hat back on,” Marlee said without looking up.

“Momma, I’m doing something,” the little girl said, apparently oblivious to the blistering effects of the bright Texas sun, which was already blazing at nine in the morning.

“You can twirl around with your hat on,” Marlee said.

“No, what I’m doing is giving the sun a chance to paint me some freckles so I’ll be like a real redhead.”

Melanie cocked her head. Tammy Jo’s hair was the same flame-colored shade both she and Marlee had been born with. But Tammy Jo’s tan skin was something neither of them could claim. They always burned and freckled if they weren’t compulsive about hats and sunblock. It was a constant battle against nature to use creams to fade the light smattering of freckles, since freckles had never been “the thing” when they’d been growing up in England. When referring to red hair, ginger was a term applied with mild distaste or outright mocking.

“You don’t freckle, my darling,” Edie the family ghost said when she appeared. Their great-aunt Edie, who’d died in the 1920s, wore a dress with a sparkling Art Deco pattern and at least a foot of fringe on the bottom. Edie smiled when Tammy Jo clapped her hands and waved in excitement at her arrival. “Your skin goes from ivory to gold like Midas himself touched you.”

“Hi, Aunt Edie! Look what I can do!” Tammy Jo said. She twirled with her arms overhead and then bolted to the ash tree and shimmied up its trunk. She hung upside down from a branch.

“Careful!” Mel said, rising.

“The twirl was nice, biscuit, but what are you playing at now? Monkey life?” Edie asked.

Tammy Jo giggled, letting her arms dangle beside her hair. “Kiss it,” she said.

Melanie bent over and gave Tammy’s upside-down lips a kiss, then reached out to lift her down from the branch.

Before she caught her, however, Tammy Jo had released the limb. Melanie gasped and lunged to break her fall, but Tammy Jo flipped in midair to land in the dirt in a crouch, like a tiny wildcat.

“Ta-da!” she said, throwing her arms out.

“Oh, my God! Mar, did you see that?” Mel asked.

Marlee glanced at Tammy Jo and then at Melanie and gave a small nod.

“Who taught you to do that? You shouldn’t be flipping out of trees without someone to spot you,” Melanie said.

“She’s okay,” Marlee murmured.

Melanie raised a brow. Both she and Marlee were extremely protective of Tammy Jo. Marlee had been excessively worried about the child being abducted from the time she’d been born. Paranoid was the word Edie often used to describe Marlee’s constant concern.

“Aunt Mel, your kiss tasted like watermelon lip gloss. Do you got it in your pocket? Can I have me some of that for my lips?” Tammy Jo puckered her pink lips. She was so cute with her impish face and quirky mannerisms.

“It’s not ‘do you got it.’ It’s ‘do you have it,’” Melanie corrected. They might be raising the little girl in a small East Texas town, but she’d learn to speak the Queen’s English properly if Melanie had her way. “And you tasted like chocolate. Did you get into the Hershey’s Kisses? How did you find them? Were you spying on me when I hid the bag?”

Tammy Jo looked away guiltily and then charged into distraction tactics. “Um, you know what? You didn’t hear me right. I wasn’t asking for a kiss. I said Kissit ’cause I was telling you my faery name.”

Melanie froze. “Your what?”

“My name from the faeries. It’s how come I can flip so good. I learned it in fairyland. The trees taughted me. And know what else? Our trees like the new garden, but they don’t think you gotta be so mean about the little weeds. Those plants got a right to live, too.”

Melanie’s jaw dropped; then she jerked her head to look at Marlee and Edie.

“I told you this town has all the signs of fae infestation,” Edie said. “But you wouldn’t listen. Faeries love boisterous children. And our little girl runs and dances from sunrise to sunset.”

“Where did you see faeries, Tammy Jo? What did they say to you?” Melanie demanded.

“Um, I see them lots.”

“But you know that when you see a faery you’re supposed to pretend you don’t. Remember? Because faeries sometimes steal children,” Mel said.

“Yep, when I see them around town I pretend they’re not even there. Just like the game Momma plays when that Boone who wants to kiss her tries to talk to her in the grocery store and she acts like he’s not there.”

Edie snorted and then said, “They fall at Melanie’s feet and she scoops up the good-looking ones. When they fall at Marlee’s feet, she leaves them there.”

Marlee rolled her eyes at Edie and then looked at Tammy Jo. “If you haven’t talked to any of the faeries, why did they give you a nickname?” Marlee asked.

“Oh, that’s not from here. That’s my name from when I lived with the faeries. When I was real little.”

Marlee’s brows pinched together.

“You never lived with any faeries, honey. You’ve been with us the whole time,” Mel said.

Tammy Jo cocked her head. “Well, I lived there a few times in some dreams I had. That’s when I got a special name. But in the faery town, I don’t got no momma or aunties. I just live by myself with a big man who makes metal suits and horseshoes. Only he makes me nervous on account of he forgot how to smile.”

Mel’s stomach knotted. Were they just random dreams? Or had Tammy Jo’s consciousness actually traveled underhill? Had she perhaps crossed a fae path in bare feet and carried away its magic? Could it be clinging to her even now? “We should move,” Melanie said to Marlee.

“Move?” Tammy Jo cried. “We can’t move! I just got a real good kindergarten class!”

“We’re not moving,” Marlee said. “We’ll brew her a tea to suppress astral projection in case that’s what the dreams were. And we can give her some added protection against faeries. We’ll soak her and her clothes in a bath of oatmeal, Saint-John’s-wort, and four-leaf clovers.”

Melanie frowned. If her sister thought Tammy Jo needed triple protection against faeries, Marlee was worried, too.

“Mar,” Melanie said, her voice full of concern.

“Listen, Tammy Jo won’t be able to see them for much longer. Another year at most,” Marlee said, but Mel noticed the slight shift of Mar’s eyes. Did she believe that wholeheartedly? Or was she just trying to make Mel feel better?

“But this did turn out to be fae territory! We’re witches. We shouldn’t be living in the middle of a town with such a strong fae presence,” Melanie said. “Why were you so set on moving here? And staying here? It’s never made sense.”

“She’s been keeping a secret,” Edie said. “Haven’t you, Marlee?”

“The trees can hear. And so can little ears,” Marlee said. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“But we’re not moving, right?” Tammy Jo asked.

“No,” Mar said firmly. Melanie scowled.

“Hooray! It’s real hot. I’ll help,” Tammy Jo said, grabbing the hose and unspooling it.

The summer heat baked the ground, and Tammy Jo haphazardly watered the plants.

“You don’t have to water the stones,” Marlee said. “Rocks don’t get thirsty.”

“We like to hear the sizzle,” Tammy Jo said, glancing at the tree. “And it cools the dirt, too.”

“Dirt doesn’t need cooling,” Melanie said.

“The ground likes it,” Tammy countered, a twinkle in her eyes.

“Such unusual eyes. Most McKenna witches have green eyes. All three of us do,” Edie said. “Tammy’s eyes are hazel brown and golden. Like those of a great cat. Are you a little lioness?”

Tammy Jo roared.

“Tammy Jo, where are your garden clogs? Your feet are all dirty,” Mel said.

Tammy’s small feet sank into the muddy ground and she giggled. “My toes like it.”

The laughter was another giveaway, Melanie thought, of the truth they’d suspected, but that Marlee wouldn’t confirm. Even before the child started hearing the wind whisper and the brooks babble, Tammy’s laughter sometimes sounded like wind chimes, musical and pretty, and vaguely unnatural. It sent an electric shock down Melanie’s spine.

“Look at the mess you’re making. You’re dragging the hose right through the mud and getting it all over the cobbles. Hang that up, rinse your feet, and go inside. Edie will have a tea party with you,” Marlee said.

Edie pursed her phantom lips. She hated tea. Of course, as a ghost she wouldn’t actually be drinking it, but on principal she was disinclined to have tea parties. Tea reminded her of their time in England—the worst time in Edie’s life or afterlife, which was saying something, since her life in her father’s house had been no lollapalooza.

“Wanna have a tea party?” Tammy Jo asked, looking up at Edie hopefully.

A branch swayed toward the child, as if beckoning her closer. Edie narrowed her eyes jealously at the old ash tree.

“Yes, let’s go inside,” Edie said. Marlee had never said so, but Edie was certain Tammy Jo was half Seelie fae, likely the child of a warrior, from the hints Marlee had let slip about Tammy’s father. It was the only explanation for why Marlee wanted to live in Texas on top of an underhill Unseelie stronghold. Duvall was the one place into which the Seelie wouldn’t wander and discover Tammy Jo and recognize her as one of their own.

One of their own! Edie’s great-great-niece, a half fae! Edie’s lips curled in distaste. She almost couldn’t bear the thought, but when she looked at the child she felt nothing but love for her. Tammy Jo’s strange pointed features and vivacious urchin ways were appallingly irresistible.

She’s ours. She’s a McKenna witch, Edie thought savagely. I won’t share her with anyone, let alone the Folk. Not that the fae would’ve been willing to share either. If they had known that a Halfling creature born of one of their knights lived with humans, they would have stolen her away. The Folk loved children and their juicy humanity. They also hated witches. How delicious would they find the theft of a bouncy little redheaded witch? Exceedingly so, Edie suspected. Oh, yes, the court would try to take her . . . if they knew.

Edie floated toward the sliding door with one last suspicious look at the ash tree. That tree may know, she thought bitterly.

None of them could understand treespeak. Only the fae and some young children could understand the oldest language of the Earth. Tammy Jo, who was both a faery and a child, heard the trees whisper. If Melanie and Marlee couldn’t suppress Tammy Jo’s fae abilities, Edie would convince the girls to burn the ash tree down.

Edie glanced over at Tammy’s dirt- and chocolate-smudged little face and the small hands that hung the hose on its hook and then began braiding a vibrant green vine through her flame-colored locks.

“Tammy Jo, take that dirty weed out of your hair,” Edie commanded. “Come and wash up. We’re going to have a great party.”

“With tea and red velvet cake?” Tammy Jo asked excitedly. “I love red velvet cake!”

“I know.”

“And I love carrot cake. And chocolate cake. And vanilla cake. And pancakes with syrup and biscuits with honey . . .”

“Yes, you love sweets.” Just like the fae. “Let’s go inside,” Edie repeated, and then lowered her voice to a whisper. “I know where the extra frosting is hidden.”

Tammy Jo beamed, her perfect white teeth offset by rose-petal lips.

“And you and I will throw a real party,” Edie added.

Tammy Jo clapped her hands excitedly, her golden brown eyes sparkling, and Edie couldn’t help but smile. The child really was as sweet as the ghastly cakes she favored so much.

*   *   *

THE BEADS KEPT dangling over Tammy Jo’s eyes, which made her laugh. In fact, she was giggling so hard the table shook. Aunt Edie laughed, too, and motioned for Tammy Jo to fix the strap of her dress that had fallen off her shoulder again. It was a lady’s dress and much too big for her, but it sure was beautiful with its green and gold beads.

“I wore that dress to a party given by Tallulah Bankhead. A really wild affair. Do you know what she wore?”

Tammy Jo shook her head eagerly. She loved it when Aunt Edie smiled and laughed and told stories. Her stories were like faery tales, because everyone wore sparkly shoes and dresses, like Cinderella. Only the people in Aunt Edie’s stories didn’t end their parties at midnight. They ended only when the police came.

Folks in Duvall, Texas, Tammy Jo’s hometown, never wore beaded headbands or made one curl lie flat to their cheek like a little vine pointing up to the sky. And they sure didn’t live in buildings that scraped the sky. She wondered if the clouds got mad about all that scraping in New York City. The trees in Duvall sure got mad about the cement sidewalks blocking their roots.

“I’ll have another,” Edie said, tipping her fancy phantom glass toward Tammy Jo. Tammy pretended to pour some liquid into Edie’s glass and then did pour a little more into the Velveteen Rabbit’s glass and Winnie the Pooh’s. Pooh was having so much fun, he kept falling out of his yellow chair.

Tammy Jo sat him upright again and adjusted his bow tie and the black jacket she’d borrowed from Momma’s business suit. Momma didn’t work for the bank anymore, so Tammy Jo didn’t think it mattered that a little cranberry juice had gotten on it. Edie hadn’t scolded her when she’d dripped, so it must be okay.

“Tallulah wore a double strand of pearls, a pair of high heels, and nothing else.”

Tammy Jo choked a little. “Nudie Rudy?”

“Yes.”

Tammy Jo slapped a bejeweled hand over her mouth and giggled like mad. “You’re fibbing!”

“No. Flappers liked to be scandalous. We didn’t let anyone tell us what to do. There was power in doing whatever we wanted. Especially in coming down a grand staircase naked. Everyone stopped to watch. No one spoke. No one breathed.”

“They were so surprised, I bet. One time Georgia Sue’s brother ran into the living room naked. Our dolls were dancing, and they fell right over when he came out. They were that surprised. But then we laughed, ’cause he doesn’t know better. He’s two. But I guess your friend probably knew better.”

“She did.”

“And she wasn’t shy? Or afraid she’d get in trouble? At my school, if you don’t wear clothes, they send you home and you don’t get cookies.”

“Tallulah got plenty of cookies.”

“And nobody yelled at her or covered her up?”

“No, it was a different time.”

“But I thought you said there was snow and ice by your house. If she was naked except for necklaces and shoes, wasn’t she real cold? You said you wore fur coats over your dresses because of all that cold stuff. How could anybody go naked?”

“I imagine the gin warmed her up.”

“The gin?” Tammy Jo echoed, chewing on her lip, which tasted funny on account of the bright red lipstick she’d applied. Tammy dipped a finger in...

About this edition

• Publisher: Berkley
• Publication date: 2015
• ISBN 10: 0425267830
• ISBN 13: 9780425267837
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• Number of pages: 352