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Books in this series:
1) Boogie Beach
2) Salt Shaken 3) Speedo Down
4) Pixie Prick
5) Funkin’ Weird 6) Rogue Horizon
Humans never knew how magic folks party. Until now.
Halloween is Christmas on steroids if you’re of a magical persuasion, which isn’t my claim to fame. I’m more of an apprentice of sorts. Oh, not to be magical, that’s a born-with-it talent, but when I started waiting tables at a local pier bar, at sixteen, guess who discovered she won the world’s weirdest and most exclusive lottery? I, Cleopatra O’Keefe, am a Keeper.
Which will probably kill me sooner rather than later.
Now I’m fixin’ to debut as a bartender on my twenty-first birthday—which falls on Halloween—in the magical’s hidden bar, serving drinks that could kill me if they explode. Yikes. Lined up for the party are Greek gods, big scary shifters, and witches with crap attitudes. Add in a bunch of huge blue mer people with long, lethal knives and a herd of tiny fairies with murderous skills. Easy peasy, right?
Magicals barely tolerate humans, except for one speedo-clad god who has the serious hots for me. I swear, if I survive the night, it’ll be a miracle with a side of mayhem.
Good thing I’ve got a magic book and an attitude. I’ll need both.
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Magical Mayhem Excerpt:
Hands on hips, I stared at the ornate wooden ship’s door, a total relic I’d never noticed before today. While grimy with centuries of salty storms, it was still pretty sweet with tons of cool carvings. An octopus wielding a trident filled the center, surrounded by different animals, a mermaid, and tons of symbols. I laid my palm against it and pushed, then walked through and damn near pissed my shorts.
It was a bar, and the people sitting inside were not normal. At all. A red-haired lady in long green robes raised an eyebrow at me, while a man with a hairy neck who looked like a rabid dog snarled. A humongous dude with long white blond hair, serious pecs, and his party platter crammed into a red speedo, slapped a meaty hand on the bar before busting into laughter. Billy, standing behind the bar, glared and crooked his finger.
“My office.”
Panicked, I nodded, backing out the way I came, certain he’d fire me. Was I high? Not voluntarily, but I sure as hell hoped that weirdo tableau was a hallucination. I scrambled through the glass double doors, whipped around the corner past the bar full of drunk tourists, and slipped into Billy’s tiny office. One chair and a desk filled the front of it, and a lonely teak folding chair leaned against the rear wall.
Do you sit down when you get fired? Hell if I knew, it’s my first time.