Moon Of The Witch

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Moon Of The Witch - book excerpt

Chapter 1

Dalton La Pierre sat with every nerve ending in his body shooting off storm warnings. He nervously stared across the table from his date, Althea Rubidoux. Watching her face intently for that first spark of anger in her enchanting dark eyes, Dalton wondered how he would break up with her without dodging dishes and flatware. How should he begin this conversation? You’re lovely, Althea, but you’re an absolute bitch? No, that probably wouldn’t be the way to go if he wanted to keep his eyes.

Althea Rubidoux was physically beautiful beyond belief. Dalton had been surprised eight months earlier when the honey-skinned mulatto woman accepted his first invitation to dinner. Now he sat at another dinner with her, wondering how to cut her loose. It just went to prove true what his grandpa used to say: Be careful what you wish for, boy because you might just get it.

Dalton drove a tow truck and parted out old cars for a living. Why would the most beautiful woman in St. Elizabeth, Louisiana, go out with a simple grease-monkey when she could go into New Orleans and have her choice of more substantial men?

But Althea had accepted his invitation to dinner at Le Petit Paris Café in St. Elizabeth, where they’d both grown up and attended school. Dalton knew the tall beauty on sight, but he’d never thought he’d stood a chance with her back in high school against all the rich townies and jocks. Ten years since high school and the owner of his own wrecker and parts business, Dalton thought he might give it a try with the leggy woman.

He’d caught a call one afternoon for a motorist in distress on the highway outside town and found that motorist to be Althea Rubidoux. It looked to Dalton as though a water hose on her expensive Mercedes had blown, and Althea stood, leaning upon the front fender of the steaming automobile. She wore a clingy black jumpsuit and strappy open-toed heels. Althea was the picture of desirability with her exposed cleavage and tawny skin accentuated by the sexy plunging neckline of the clingy garment. Her wavy black hair hung loose to her waist, and her pouty red lips shone in the waning sunlight over the Black Bayou.

Dalton’s penis had sprung to life at just the thought of her, but seeing her standing there dressed up like a supermodel getting ready to hit the runway had been more than he could bear. Dalton smiled and adjusted his jeans in an attempt to mask his throbbing erection.

“Hey there, Althea,” Dalton had greeted her, removing his grease-stained ball cap to run his hand through his sandy-blonde curls. “The Benz take a shit on ya?”

“Seems so,” Althea said flatly, but moved in a manner that exposed her ample breasts provocatively in Dalton’s direction.

“Well, get in and pop the hood for me so I can see what’s goin’ on under there.”

“Sure thing,” Althea said, flashing bright, white even teeth. She turned and swayed her shapely behind as she walked gracefully back to open the door of the car and drop unceremoniously into the deep bucket seat.

Dalton heard the hood release as he pulled on leather work-gloves in order to lift it. Steam billowed into his face as he did so. He could tell at first glance that Althea’s fancy foreign car had lost a water hose. Dalton couldn’t tell whether or not the hose was completely missing or only disconnected without digging a little deeper, but it would be an easy fix even if the hose proved to be gone. He carried several on his truck, as well as the necessary clamps. Dalton rooted around a little and found the water hose unclamped and hanging at one end, draining the water from Althea’s automobile.

“I got ya covered,” Dalton yelled from under the hood as he clamped the hose back into place. “It’s just a loose hose. As soon as I get this clamp tightened back up, I’ll refill her with water,” he yelled but gave a start when he looked up to see Althea bending over the car and staring into the steamy engine compartment as Dalton worked. “You see, just a hose. No biggy.”

Althea leaned over the car to give Dalton a clear view of her plump breasts, and her nipples erect beneath the flimsy black fabric. “You’re good with your hands,” she said, flashing the smile again. “You like what you see—Dalton, isn’t it? Dalton La Pierre?”

Dalton tried to concentrate on the job at hand. “Yes … I mean, yes, it’s Dalton. We were in school together. You were in my Junior English Lit class with old lady Hillshire.”

“Yes, of course, of course. I liked the old bird,” Althea said, fluttering her thick black lashes at him as he sweated over the hot engine.

“She was alright, I suppose,” Dalton said, “but she made us write too many essays about stuff like The Old Man and the Sea and Moby Dick. I think the old gal had a thing about the ocean or something.”

“I always liked the way she engaged us with stories about the authors’ personal lives, like their sexual orientations and stuff like that.” Althea leaned in a little farther, exposing more of her beautiful breast.

“Yeah,” Dalton agreed, trying to ignore the sweaty throbbing between his thighs. “She did make it interesting, and none of that crap ever showed up on the tests, either.” Althea agreed and laughed with him.

They stood talking that way for over an hour, about classes and classmates. Then Dalton got enough nerve up to make his move. “Would you like to go to dinner tomorrow night?” He blurted out the question. “We could go to Le Petit Paris for steaks or someplace else if you want.”

“Le Petit Paris would be wonderful. I love their gumbo.” She dug into her black leather clutch and pulled out a glossy business card. “Here’s my card with my address here in town and my number. Shall we say seven, then?”

“Sure,” Dalton mumbled, taking the card, and shoving it into the breast pocket of his sweaty, grease-stained t-shirt. “I’ll see you at seven.”

Althea grabbed his hand. Dalton thought his heart would stop in that instant. “Wait a minute. What do I owe you for the service call?”

“Nothing,” he said, waving her off. “It was just a silly hose. I only had to replace the clamp and refill her with water. No charge for that.” For anyone else, it would have been a thirty-five dollar charge, but not for Althea Rubidoux with those amazing breasts.

After that first dinner, Dalton and Althea had dated regularly for over eight months. Their lovemaking had been beyond anything Dalton could have imagined, but something about Althea, her family, and her close friends rubbed Dalton the wrong way.

Most of them lived out in remote areas of the Black Bayou and were secretive about their goings-on. Dalton had gone to dinner at Althea’s parents’ place once, and, was surprised to find that the only way to their home was by boat. Her family lived in a creepy compound on an island in the middle of the Black Bayou.

Dalton remembered his grandpa telling him and his sister that the island was haunted, and to never to go out there. He had no idea that people actually lived out on the rocky mound in the center of all that mist. When Dalton had asked about Althea’s family ancestry and how long they had been in the bayou, her father acted evasive and her mother sat nervously in silence.

Althea later told him the family had been on the island since around the time the first Acadians had settled the region, in the early Eighteenth Century. The secrecy still irked Dalton, and it was one of the reasons he now planned to end things with the beautiful woman sitting across the table from him. He didn’t like secrets or spooky haunted islands in the middle of BlackBayou.

Dalton thought the island bread more bitches than anything else and that’s what his grandpa should have warned him about rather than ghosts and other scary shit. Staring at the woman across the table from him now, Dalton couldn’t think of anything scarier than Althea Rubidoux at her bitchiest.

“What’s going on tonight, Dalton, honey?” Althea took his hands and smiled sweetly with her full lips and deep-set, dark eyes shining. “Is this a special occasion I don’t know about?” He watched her thick dark lashes flutter in anticipation of his answer.

Sensing he may find himself in trouble, Dalton broke free of Althea’s grasp and shrugged. “Nothing special,” he said too quickly. “I just thought we should talk.” He hesitated, nervously glancing around the busy café. “And I thought this would be a good place to do it.”

Althea’s eyes narrowed. Dalton sensed trouble coming. “Are you dumping me, Dalton La Pierre?” Althea asked hotly. Dalton thanked his stars that she said it quietly and not in her regular loud screech.

Althea’s fiery temper had proven to be a problem with Dalton. While he enjoyed their sexual relationship immensely, he couldn’t tolerate her rants at the tiniest presumed infraction on his part. He’d pulled her, screaming and fighting, from many an establishment in St. Elizabeth.

Her senseless rants in public places embarrassed him, while Althea didn’t seem to be embarrassed at all. That irked Dalton. His mother had taught him to be respectful of others in public, and he didn’t like being made a spectacle of.

“Althea, we haven’t really been seeing eye-to-eye for a while now.” A waiter brought them wine and poured the sweet red liquid into large glasses on delicate stems. “I think we should take a little break for a while, and let things settle down. Maybe we should see other people?” He picked up his wine glass and gulped some of it down.

“See other people?” She narrowed her eyes again, and Dalton recognized the storm about to hit as the tone of her voice raised an octave. “Have you been steppin’ out on me, you ridiculous, greasy wrench-jockey? Just who in hell do you think you are to do that to me?” Wine soon ran down Dalton’s face as he watched Althea’s backside pass through the door onto the patio, and he cringed as he heard her kicking around the metal patio furniture.

A waiter handed him a towel with an amused grin. “I don’t suppose you’ll be ordering dinner then?”

“No, I don’t suppose so,” Dalton replied with a sheepish grin. He finished wiping wine from his hazel eyes and dropped the wine-stained towel onto the table. “Sorry for the mess and the disruption.” Dalton handed the waiter his credit card to pay for the wine.

“No worries,” the young man said with a smile. “Men have brought Miss Althea here to break up before. It always turns out pretty much the same way.” He took Dalton’s card, ran it, and brought back the receipt to be signed. Dalton added a five-dollar tip and left the little Café, stepping out into the warm, damp air that smelled of the swamp.

Another reason Dalton had decided to make a break with Althea had been his new relationship with Julia DuBois, a perky little redhead who worked as a drive-thru teller at his bank. They’d struck up a conversation one afternoon while she worked on one of the transfer units, trying to dislodge a carrier stuck in the vacuum tube.

After dealing with Althea and her cartwheeling moods, Julia soothed him like a fresh, cool breeze off the bayou in summer. She struck Dalton as sweet and easy-going. Their first date had been burgers and onion rings in his pick-up at the Sonic on the edge of town. Sonic burgers in Dalton’s messy truck would never have been a dinner date he’d have considered broaching with Althea.

Dalton parked his truck in front of Julia’s white clapboard cottage and got out. The heady scents of jasmine and honeysuckle met his nose upon leaving his vehicle, carrying bags of pulled pork with slaw and fries. He knew Julia would have Bud Longnecks in her fridge. Dalton knocked on the door and smiled when the bubbly redhead answered, wearing denim shorts and a tight-fitting tank top without a bra.

“Hey Jules,” he lifted the greasy brown paper bags. “I brought supper.”

“I thought you were going to be otherwise engaged tonight.” Julia rolled her big green eyes as she pushed the screened door open. “Get on in here with that bag. I’m famished and it smells delicious.”

“You just happened to know I’d be showin’ up with food in hand?” He asked playfully as he stepped over her threshold. The door slapped his firm behind on the way in as it closed.

Julia took the bags. “Miss Althea Rubidoux does not take rejection well. Everybody in town knows that, Dalton.” Julia laughed, then disappeared into the kitchen with the food. “Are you telling me that you didn’t?” She called to him with a bubbly giggle .

He sighed and rolled his hazel eyes. “I suppose I should have, huh?”

Chapter 2

“Jules, you’re such an amazin’ woman.” Dalton bent and kissed her soft, warm lips. “You’re just so comfortable to be with.” He ran his hand through her bright red curls as he pulled her head into the curve of his big body, made muscular by years of physical labor.

“Dalton La Pierre, are you comparing me to an old pair of shoes?” Julia asked with mock sarcasm and popped the last fry into her mouth.

“That’s exactly how I feel about you, Jules,” Dalton said with a wide grin on his square-jawed face. “It’s the same way I feel about my old Red Wings.” He playfully ruffled her curls with his big hand. “I actually like to think of you as fitting like a pair of my comfortable old jeans, though. That’s the part of you I love wrapped around me the most.” He unbuttoned his cotton shirt and shrugged it off his shoulders.

“Oh, yeah?” she swatted at his broad, bare chest. “I just bet it is.” Julia smiled up at him warmly. “I kind of like being down there, myself.” She stretched up a small, freckled hand to caress his smooth cheek and caught the briefest scent of his spicy aftershave. “You do realize that you just used the ‘L’ word, don’t you?”

“Babe, I love that part of all women, not just you.” Dalton tipped up his Bud and swallowed down a quarter of the bottle. He shut his eyes tight, wondering how he’d gotten himself in trouble with yet another woman so quickly. His grandpa would have boxed his ear for being such a fool. “I love other parts of you too, Jules. You have really great tits, your green eyes are really, really pretty, and your curly mop of hair is real pretty, too.” He tapped the tip of her freckled snub nose with his index finger in jest.

“Well, at least you’re honest.” Julia pulled his head down to hers, and their lips met in a passionate kiss. She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him gently into her face. She tasted his sweet, salty mouth with the hint of brewer’s yeast and smoky bar-b-que sauce on his probing tongue as it twined around hers.

His rough hand found her breasts under the tank top she wore and rolled her nipples into erect mounds of flesh between his thumb and forefinger. “Like I said before, nice tits, firm and very responsive.” He pulled the cotton top up and over Julia’s head and brought his mouth down to suck a nipple between his teeth. He bit lightly, teasing.

“Oh, Dalton, honey,” Julia gasped with each nibble, “don’t stop, babe. That feels so good.” He sucked harder and slid his right hand down over her flat belly to fumble with the snap and zipper on her shorts. Once open, Dalton slipped his hand in to find her wet crevasse.

“Oh, yeah. Finger me good. Massage my clit. It’s throbbing like crazy.” She gasped. “It wants you.” He slid a second finger inside Julia’s vagina. He grasped her pulsing clit between them, slowly working the fingers back and forth over her throbbing, engorged bundle of nerves until she moaned and thrust her hips up to meet his probing fingers. Julia reached for his snap and zipper but found them already open. She gently reached in and released his throbbing erection. Her petit hand encircled the pulsing organ and squeezed.

“That feels so good, Jules. Jack me with that soft hand,” he moaned out, pulling her over to lie on her back upon the throw rug in front of her couch. “I’m gonna take your shorts down now.” Dalton yanked the petite woman’s shorts down over her backside and past her thighs. When they got to her knees, Julia kicked the denim shorts free. She spread her legs, and Dalton rolled his long, lean body atop hers. He bent his head and kissed her mouth again. Dalton’s muscles rippled across his upper arms and shoulders as he held the weight of his upper body with them.

His erection pushed toward Julia’s wet, throbbing center. “Fuck me, honey,” she begged and pulled his face into hers again. “Fuck me good.” He shoved his meaty cock into her . “Oh, yeah. Give me all of it.” Julia shivered as his erection slid in and out of her, rubbing up against her clit. She arched up into his thrusts and used the muscles in her vaginal walls to clinch and release him.

“Keep that up, Jules,” he panted. “Don’t stop. Ahhh,” Dalton moaned. “It feels so damned good when you do that.”

Julia brought her arms down to caress his heaving ass as he thrust into her. She used Dalton’s weight to leverage her body and push into him as he shoved into her repeatedly. Soon they both exploded with exhausting orgasms.

“Oh my god, Dalton,” Julia gasped and dug her nails into his muscular shoulders, “I’m cumming so good, babe.”

“Me too, Jules.” He gave one last hard shove with his release. His big body collapsed atop hers. Sweat ran from his forehead, and his damp hair turned into a mass of sandy-blonde ringlets. “Jesus, Jules. I swear it’s better every time we fuck. I’ve never experienced this with any woman before,” he whispered into Julia’s ear. “A cum was just a cum, but this is amazing. I can’t get enough of you.” Dalton rolled off onto the floor beside her, panting.

Julia reached for her discarded top and shoved it between her legs to catch his fluid dripping from her vagina before it could mess the antique rug. She swatted Dalton’s bare ass. “I sorta like it too. I couldn’t have asked for a better dessert.” She giggled with delight. Something caught Julia’s eye, and she went silent as she peered intently at the window, looking out onto her front porch. She caught the fleeting reflection of eyes staring in at them. Startled, Julia wrapped her arms to cover her naked breasts and whispered, “Dalton, I think someone’s watching us.”

Dalton scrambled up onto the couch, grabbing his jeans. “What?” he asked in a hoarse whisper. “Where?” He began shoving his legs into his jeans as his eyes darted frantically between the two living room windows and the window in the front door.

“I saw eyes at the window,” Julia told him, nodding slightly toward the front window.

Dalton strode to the window, parting the lace drapes. ”Fucking Christ,” he groaned out. Then he went to the front door and twisted the antique knob.

“What?” Julia exclaimed as she pulled on her shorts and wrapped herself in a throw from the couch. “Who is it?” she asked.

Dalton pulled open the door to reveal Althea Rubidoux standing outside in the glow of the porch light. “What the fuck, Althea?”

Althea pushed past Dalton, her dark eyes bright with tears of hurt and rage. “So this is the little bitch you’ve been fucking behind my back?” She stormed up to Julia and drew her arm back to strike the much shorter redhead. Dalton grabbed Althea’s arm before she could deliver the blow. “That’s enough, Althea.” He turned the raging woman toward the opened door. “You need to go. You and I are over. I’ve had enough of your insane temper tantrums to last me a lifetime.”

Althea shrugged off his hands, “We are far from over,Dalton. When I’m done with you, you’ll know it beyond a doubt.” She turned to Julia and pointed a tawny finger. “As for you, Sister, I’ll have my satisfaction later. Upon the next moon, I’ll have my satisfaction. So mote it be!” Althea turned and marched from the room, leaving Dalton and Julia standing together open-mouthed.

“What the hell was that all about?” Dalton asked with his brow furrowed in confusion. “What was she babbling about, getting satisfaction and calling you her sister? You aren’t sisters, are you?”

“Not by blood,” Julia sighed out. “We’re Sisters of the Moon.”

“What?” Dalton raised a thick blonde eyebrow. “What in hell’s name are you talkin’ about, Jules?”

Julia took a deep breath and sat down on the couch. “It’s a long story.” Julia patted the cushion beside her. “Come, sit down, and I’ll try to explain.”

Dalton stood staring down at Julia, running a hand through his sweat-damp curls. “I will, but I need another beer.” He began to walk toward the kitchen. “How about you?”

“Sure, I’ll have another.” Julia stood up and let the velour throw fall from her shoulders onto the couch. “I’m gonna put on a robe.” She bent and picked up her messed tank top to throw into the hamper and walked to her bedroom. There, she pitched the soiled top to join her other dirty clothes and grabbed a robe from the hook on the bedroom door. She slowly walked back into the living room, pulling the tie to her silky robe tight at her waist.

Dalton sat on the couch with a beer bottle in his hand. Julia joined him, taking his hand into hers. “This is all going to sound pretty weird to you, and you’re probably going to think I’m out of my ever-lovin’ mind.”

“What?” Dalton asked with his face screwed up in confusion. His long lashes fluttered over his confused eyes.

Julia took a pull on her beer then plunged ahead. “All right, here goes,” she said, and exhaled a deep breath. “Althea and I are both Sisters of the Moon. We’re what you’d call witches.” Julia watched his face for a reaction.

“What do you mean by witches? Pointy hats and flying on broomsticks?” He stared at Julia with a creased forehead. “That’s nonsense. What are you talkin’ about?”

“It’s not nonsense, Dalton.” Julia took another sip from her amber glass bottle. “Althea and I both practice witchcraft. Our families practice witchcraft and have been members of covens here in the bayou for centuries now. The Rubidoux Coven lives out on that island in the Black Bayou, and the DuBois Coven all live in and around town here. It’s been that way since the families migrated down here from Canada in 1712. They were running from religious persecution. They tortured, hung, and burned witches back then, you know. Remember what they did in Salem.”

“But that was just a bunch of crazy teenage girls, crying witch to get attention. None of those women were really witches.” He looked into Julia’s eyes intently. “Were they?”

“I can’t say for certain, but probably not. Most of the practicing families had fled to Canada long before that.”

“You’re really serious, aren’t you? You actually think you’re a witch, don’t you?” Dalton smiled and touched a finger to the end of Julia’s nose. “Do you wiggle your cute little nose and make things appear and disappear like that old show on TV?”