Moon Thrall

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Authors: Donna Grant

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MOON

THRALL

A LaRue Story

D
ONNA
G
RANT

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Moon Thrall

©
2015 by DL Grant, LLC

Excerpt from
Wild Flame
copyright
©
2015 by Donna Grant

Cover design © 2014 by
Leah Suttle

ISBN 10: 1942017057

ISBN 13: 978-1942017059

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce or transmit this book, or a portion thereof, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author. This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

www.DonnaGrant.com

Available in ebook and print editions

PRONUNCIATIONS & GLOSSARY

GLOSSARY:

Andouille
(ahn-doo-ee) &
Boudin
(boo-dan)

Two types of Cajun sausage. Andouille is made with pork while boudin with pork and rice.

Bayou
(by-you)

A sluggish stream bigger than a creek and smaller than a river

Beignet
(bin-yay)

A fritter or doughnut without a hole, sprinkled with powdered sugar

Cajun
(‘ka-jun)

A person of French-Canadian descent born or living along southern Louisiana.

Etoufee
(ay-two-fay)

Tangy tomato-based sauce dish usually made with crawfish or shrimp and rice

Gumbo
(gum-bo)

Thick, savory soup with chicken, seafood, sausage, or wild game

Hoodoo
(hu-du)

Also known as “conjure” or witchcraft. Thought of as “folk magic” and “superstition”. Some say it is the main force against the use of Voodoo.

Jambalaya
(jom-bah-LIE-yah)

Highly seasoned mixture of sausage, chicken, or seafood and vegetables, simmered with rice until liquid is absorbed

Maman
(muh-mahn)

Term used for grandmother

Parish

A Louisiana state district; equivalent to the word county

Sha
(a as in cat)

Term of affection meaning darling, dear, or sweetheart.

Voodoo
(vu-du) – New Orleans

Spiritual folkways originating in the Caribbean. New Orleans Voodoo is separate from other forms (Haitian Vodou and southern Hoodoo). New Orleans Voodoo puts emphasis on Voodoo Queens and Voodoo dolls.

Zydeco
(zy-dey-coh)

Accordion-based music originating in Louisiana combined with guitar and violin while combing traditional French melodies with Caribbean and blues influences

PRONUNCIATION
:

Arcineaux
(are-cen-o)

Chiasson
(ch-ay-son)

Davena
(dav-E-na)

Delia
(d-ee-l-ee-uh)

Delphine
(d-eh-l-FEEN)

Dumas
(dOO-mah-s)

Gilbeaux
(g-ih-l-b-oh)

Lafayette
(lah-fai-EHt)

LaRue
(l-er-OO)

Theriot
(terry-O)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A special thanks goes out to my family who lives in the bayous of Louisiana. Those summers there are some of my best memories. I also need to send a shout-out to my team – Bridgette B, Candace C, Stephanie D, Kelly M, Kristin N, Vanessa R, Shani S. You guys are the bomb. Hats off to my editor, Chelle Olson, and design extraordinaire, Leah Suttle. Thank you all for helping me get this story out.

Lots of thanks and love to my incredible family. Thanks for putting up with my hectic schedule and for knowing when it was time that I got out of the house. And a special hug for my furbabies Lexi, Sheba, Sassy, Tinkerbell, and Diego.

Last but not least, my readers. You have my eternal gratitude for the amazing support you show me and my books. Y’all rock my world. Stay tuned at the end of this story for the first sneak peek of
Wild Flame
, Chiasson book 4 out May 18, 2015. Enjoy!

Xoxo

Donna

C
HAPTER
O
NE

September

It was the smell of bacon frying that pulled him from sleep. Court threw an arm over his eyes to block out the light coming through the row of windows behind him.

“This is beyond anything I’ve read in years,” his brother Kane said.

There was a thud that Court recognized as Kane firmly setting down his mug of coffee. Court released a breath, hoping to fall back asleep quickly. It wasn’t going to be easy when Kane was sitting at the table six feet away.

“What now?” Riley asked.

His cousin from Lyons Point had been sharing Kane’s apartment for weeks now, and it looked like she had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

“This...well, there’s no other way to put it. It’s shit,” Kane grumbled.

Court sat up and glared at both of them. It was wasted since Riley was focused on cooking and Kane was absorbed in reading the paper.

“It’s too damn early in the morning for this,” Court said as he rose from the couch and shuffled into the kitchen. He palmed a mug and poured himself some coffee.

Riley chuckled as she munched on a slice of crispy bacon and eyed him. “It’s not early for us.”

“Perhaps if you got in at a reasonable hour,” Kane said as he set the paper down. “Besides, tell me again why you aren’t at your place?”

Court took two sips of coffee and let the caffeine settle in his stomach before he replied. “It’s not my fault the women won’t leave me alone.”

“You might try not sleeping with the nut jobs,” Riley stated and pulled out the last of the bacon before she dumped eggs into the pan and began to scramble them.

Court frowned as he looked at the food, feeling a little jealous that he had been missing out on such a delicious start to the day. “Do you cook for Kane every morning?”

Kane sat back in his chair. “Sometimes I cook.”

Riley shot Kane a smile. Court hadn’t been sure anyone could bring Kane out of his funk. He hadn’t been the same since the chaos that happened in Lyons Point when he had been cursed and sent after Lincoln’s woman. Riley was doing what no one else could.

Kane still wasn’t his easygoing self – yet. But he was getting there. He didn’t snap at people as often, and Court even saw his mouth easing into what could almost be considered a smile more and more.

“This,” Kane said, pointing to the newspaper, “is stupidity at its finest.”

Court leaned back against the counter and scratched his bare chest. Kane read the paper religiously every morning. While everyone else had moved into the modern age and either didn’t bother to read the paper at all or read it electronically, Kane was still old school.

Riley dished out eggs onto three plates. She turned to the table with plates in each hand and waited as Kane folded the paper so that the article he’d been reading was on top. She set the plates, bacon, and biscuits on the table and motioned for Court to sit as she gathered utensils and napkins. Court hurried to put on his shirt from the night before.

Riley was the last to take her chair at the round table. Then she looked at Kane and asked, “What did you find?”

“An article on the supernatural in New Orleans.”

Court shook his head as he cut open a biscuit and slathered it with butter. “That’s nothing new.”

“It is when the reporter is going to clubs where the supernatural visit and then writing about it.”

Riley choked on her coffee. She wiped her mouth with her napkin, her eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

Court watched Kane nod his head of golden blond hair. “It’s just a piece in the paper. No one is going to read that drivel, and even if they do, no one will believe the reporter.”

“It’s not the article that has me so upset,” Kane stated around a mouthful of eggs. “It’s that she points out the factions and describes some of the leaders perfectly.”

Court waited until he swallowed his bite before he asked, “Who is described?”

Kane leaned over the paper and read, “Though tattooing has always been appreciated in our fair city, there is a faction who likes to tat their heads. These beings should be steered clear of at all costs.”

“At least she recognizes that the Djinn are dangerous,” Riley said.

“People are going to be heading out to the Viper’s Nest and Boudreaux’s looking for these tattooed people now.”

Court realized that Kane had a point. “How long is the article?”

“Long enough.” Kane stabbed the eggs with his fork and held the utensil at his mouth for a bite. “This is her third article. I don’t expect it to be her last.”

Riley swallowed the last of her biscuit while she held another piece of bacon in her hand. “Perhaps I should go have a talk with her.”

“That would be a bad idea.” Court pushed his cleared plate away and scooted down in his chair as he leaned back. “If we go to her, she’ll know that we know something. I don’t want to be mentioned in any of her articles.”

Kane’s lips twisted in revulsion as he chewed. “Her first articles merely mentioned the supernatural part of the city. It seemed harmless enough until this morning. She’s visiting these bars, Court. If she’s not careful, she’s going to die.”

“That’s what we’re for.” Riley smiled when they turned to her. “I say ‘we’ because I have been helping out.”

Court stared at his beautiful cousin. Riley had long black hair and the same blue eyes that all the Chiassons and LaRues had. She was tall, lithe, and had a smile that could make the Devil beg her take over Hell itself.

He understood all too well why his four male cousins in Lyons Point had done everything in their power to keep her away from the monsters they hunted. What Riley’s brothers didn’t understand, was that she was stubborn and completely immovable when she focused on something she wanted.

There was no way Riley wasn’t going to help them, whether it was hunting a rogue vampire or protecting a human getting too close to danger. All the LaRues could do was make sure that Riley never went out alone. One of them was always with her to watch her back.

Because none of them wanted the Chiassons descending on New Orleans if Riley got hurt.

Riley flicked her long hair over her shoulder and held Court’s gaze. “I’ve more than pulled my weight in the weeks I’ve been here.”

“Without a doubt,” Court agreed.

“Don’t you dare start treating me like my brothers do.”

Kane rose and walked behind Riley on the way to get more coffee, tugging on her hair. “We’re protective, cousin. Even you can understand that. We know you can hold your own.”

Court met Kane’s gaze as he turned and tilted the mug to his lips. Kane’s blue eyes were intense with meaning. Don’t fuck this up, was read loud and clear.

That’s when Court realized that Kane needed Riley as much as Riley needed him. Whether the two of them knew it or not, each was the anchor for the other.

Kane because he couldn’t forgive himself for what had happened to get him doubly cursed by the nastiest of Voodoo priestesses, Delphine, and Riley because her brothers kept pushing her away.

“Riley’s right. If we’re going to do this, she needs to come along,” Court said. “The reporter might respond better if it comes from another female.”

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