And now I can’t get her out of my head. It’s more than inspiration. It’s compulsion.
I see her in my dreams. And I wake up covered in marble dust, her statue more complete in front of me.
I can’t stop sculpting, and I can’t save the angel girl.
Now iconoclasts, a quartet of archangels, and a voodoo queen—along with the plague of little old ladies running my life—are all far too interested in the outcome.
I miss normal New Orleans. (Yeah, I said it.)
But there’s no going back until I free her and get the literal heavenly host out of my life. And maybe there’s no going back then.
Teaser:
“What revenge are we talking this time?”
Kiah’s mix of Catholicism and voodoo isn’t as far from her mind as she’d like to think. A persistent belief in prayer and getting even motivate her. “I don’t know. It’s hard to top the blue hair dye,” she muttered thoughtfully.
She’d changed out Mrs. Grace’s shampoo for temporary dye. But she didn’t bother telling Mrs. Grace that it was only temporary and would wash out. She let the poor woman get worked up enough for the neighbors to hear.
“Maybe this time I’ll change out her nail polish with the little girl peel-off kind. She’ll keep wondering why it’s chipping. Or maybe I’ll put a run in every one of her stockings. We could tie-dye her housecoats. I have ideas, Nate.”
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