Being a witch doesn’t mean one can beat the devil forever.
Jeffrey Overton, unemployed IT professional turned poker player, pushes his luck once too often and runs afoul of the host of an illegal card club. The man sent to escort Jeffrey to a “meeting” about his supernatural winning streak arrives at Jeffrey’s crappy North Portland apartment, lock-picking tools in hand and a charm to block Jeffrey’s magick.
Head muscle for said host, Mike Wells, is a Daisy from Daisyville. He isn’t a witch. What he lacks in magickal talent he makes up for in brawn, so he doesn’t expect the guy he’s after to overpower him. But once Mike renders Jeffrey helpless, he’d rather seduce him than bring him in.
Jeffrey and Michael ditch the “meeting” and end up hunting some of the same people they ran from, trying to get Jeffrey back into his own body. And that’s only part of the adventure. The pair travel halfway across the country on the quietest road trip in history and find missing people, empire-building witches, and maybe even the families they’d both thought lost to them.
This story is very confusing with tons going on. I still feel like I’m missing something. Like why are the different factions of witches attaching each other? Was Sal dating Jeff’s mom? Who was Trina? And a whole slew of other questions. I felt like I picked up a book in a series where I didn’t read the ones before it. There was definite humor in the story though. There were some funny parts that showed both guys and their wacky thought process that made the story more enjoyable. It feels like there’s still more going on by the end, but it could have been that I was lost.
Three and a half
“Be glad I don’t gag you. I don’t think I could—”
“Now that’s a good idea.” He grabbed the front of my shirt in both fists and walked me backward. “Fill up my mouth for a while.”
My back hit the wall and I was a goner. Damned prick got overpowered again.
Jeff fumbled with my pants—maybe too much—but I pretended not to notice. He managed to get them open and then dropped to his knees in front of me. The shelf holding the TV at the perfect angle for bedtime viewing hung beside my head. I had to grab it to stay upright. His mouth was good for a lot more than inspiring thoughts of murder. He sucked like a madman—which should’ve told me something—and it didn’t take long before my legs turned to rubber. Jeff grabbed my balls—almost too hard but not quite—and when he released my dick, it popped out of his mouth.
“I can do a lot better with my hands free.”
Charley Descoteaux has always heard voices. She was relieved to learn they were fictional characters, and started writing when they insisted daydreaming just wasn’t good enough. In exchange, they’ve agreed to let her sleep once in a while. Charley grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area during a drought, and found her true home in the soggy Pacific Northwest. She has survived earthquakes, tornadoes, and floods, but couldn’t make it through one day without stories.
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/CharleyDescoteauxAuthor
Where To Buy:
Dreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6421
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