GENRE: Adult Paranormal Romance
The drum beat pulsed through the single-room shack as strong and steady as a heart. Deolina, Vodun of Petro, felt the pounding in her veins as a call to war. A war she couldn't win. With the exception of the drummer, she and Grann were alone. No followers this night. No distractions. They'd come together as the greatest priestesses in Haiti—one of dark, the other light—to fight an evil that could kill them both.
Rolling her shoulders, Deolina tried to shake off long-legged spiders of fear that crept up her spine and skittered through her cornrows. Candlelight couldn't bar darkness from clawing at the shack, but she didn't need light to see what was coming for them. Deolina knew. We're too old to stop it.
"Hurry, Deolina!" Grann cried.
They'd been sworn enemies for fifty years and never once had she seen terror raging as a wild thing in Grann's eyes. It was like finding Satan frozen on a popsicle stick—she didn't know whether to cheer, or run. Remembering the horrors in her visions, she ran to sprinkle cast-off-evil powder inside the windowsills.
The drummer eased to a rhythm soft as blood drops on dirt.
"Can we save her?" Grann's voice could've come from a chicken being strangled.
Deolina sucked in a breath of smoky air. "Who's gonna stop us from gettin' our mojo on?"
"Fix the future?"
Hell could freeze. "Crank it up, bongo-boy. Me and my sista got us some evil a**-kickin' to do."