Maudlin's Mayhem (Bewitching Bedlam Book 2)
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MAUDLIN’S MAYHEM
- A Bewitching Bedlam Novel -
Book 2
YASMINE GALENORN
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published by Yasmine Galenorn
PO Box 2037, Kirkland WA 98083-2037
MAUDLIN’S MAYHEM
A Bewitching Bedlam Novel
Copyright © 2017 by Yasmine Galenorn
First Electronic Printing: 2017 Nightqueen Enterprises LLC
First Print Edition: 2017 Nightqueen Enterprises, LLC
Cover Art & Design: Earthly Charms
Editor: Elizabeth Flynn
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format, be it print or electronic or audio, without permission. Please prevent piracy by purchasing only authorized versions of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, or places is entirely coincidental and not to be construed as representative or an endorsement of any living/ existing group, person, place, or business.
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Welcome to Maudlin’s Mayhem
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Playlist
Biography
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my beloved husband, Samwise, who is more supportive than any husband out there. (Hey, I’m biased!). He believes in me, even at times when I’m having trouble believing in myself. Thank you to my wonderful assistants—Andria Holley and Jennifer Arnold. And to my friends—namely Carol, Jo, Vicki, Shawntelle, and Mandy. Also, to the whole UF Group gang I’m in. They’ve held my hand more than once this past year as I’ve made the jump from traditional to indie publishing. It’s been a scary, exciting, fast-track ride and I’m loving it.
Love and scritches to my four furbles—Caly, Brighid (the cat, not the goddess), Morgana, and li’l boy Apple, who make every day a delight. And reverence, honor, and love to my spiritual guardians—Mielikki, Tapio, Ukko, Rauni, and Brighid (the goddess, not the cat).
And to you, readers, for taking Maddy and Aegis and Bubba into your heart. Be cautious when you rub a kitty’s belly—you never know when you’re petting a cjinn! I hope you enjoy this book. If you want to know more about me and my work, check out my bibliography in the back of the book, be sure to sign up for my newsletter, and you can find me on the web at Galenorn.com.
Brightest Blessings,
~The Painted Panther~
~Yasmine Galenorn~
Welcome to Maudlin’s Mayhem
When chaos descends on the Bewitching Bedlam B&B, Maudlin's bank account gets hijacked for over $50,000. Bubba ends up showing his all-too-gorgeous and terribly insecure human side. Snow White and the Seven Dwarves descend on the B&B, only Snow White turns out to be a porn star, and the seven dwarves are her co-stars. To top it all off, Aegis gets stuck in his bat form.
But then the magical mayhem takes a dark turn when Maddy’s new employee turns up dead. Even worse, she discovers that he was the favorite boy toy of Essie Vanderbilt, the Queen of the Pacific Northwest Vampire Court. When it comes to light that Maddy and her friends are under the hex of a Dirt Witch, she realizes that she must find a way to dispel the magic before the deadly curse kills again.
Chapter 1
“I CAN’T BELIEVE I have to interview for a new housekeeper. Trina didn’t even work here for two months before she up and ran off.” I slapped the table with the latest copy of the Bedlam Crier, which contained the classified ad I’d submitted the day before. Hopefully, someone would answer it before the end of the day, because I was getting tired of wasting my spells on creating holeos to clean the B&B. I might be a powerful witch, but I didn’t have unlimited energy, and at some point, I wanted to do something besides create automatons to scrub the toilets.
“What happened to her? She get pregnant?” Sandy took another sip of her drink.
We had decided to celebrate the upcoming holiday by getting a jump start on spring. Since we were nearing Ostara—the spring equinox—we decided on a tart, bright flavor to fit the bill. The blender was full of a mixture of lemon sorbet, spiced rum, limeade, and a little grenadine. The drink was surprisingly nifty, especially after the third round.
“Trina and her boyfriend are selkies, you know. He got a job out on the peninsula near Port Townsend, so he was moving to a new pod. If Trina continued to work here, that would put a damper on their relationship. I get it, but damn it. She was a pretty spiffy worker.” I tossed back the last of my drink and held my glass out for a fourth round.
Sandy poured out the last of the drinks and held up the empty blender. “Another batch?”
I shrugged. “You know, we really should have something to eat. I forgot lunch and I doubt if I’m going to be in any shape to make dinner.”
“When are you ever in shape to make dinner? You’re lucky Aegis is a good cook.” She snorted, peeling herself out of her chair. “Do you have any potato chips? With all the lime in these drinks, it feels like we should have some salt to go with it.”
“You’re thinking of margaritas. Yeah, in the cupboard.” I started to hum the “Coconut” song as she foraged for goodies. Sandy and I had a high tolerance for mind-altering substances. After all, we had three hundred years of practice at being party girls. But I knew I wasn’t going to find my answer to the cleaning problem at the bottom of a blender.
I let out a sigh. “Well, the ad just came out today so hopefully, I’ll get some sort of response.” I paused. “Now, if I could just take care of that damned Ralph Greyhoof. You know, he actually egged my front door the other morning when he was drunk off his ass? Took my holeos an hour to wash it off.”
“He’s an idiot. He won’t let go of the feud, will he?”
“No, and I was willing to let the past go.” Ralph Greyhoof and I had come to a temporary truce for a while but that was shot to hell. One of the Greyhoof boys—they were a band of satyrs—he owned the Heart’s Desire Inn, or should I say brothel. And he was always accusing me of trying to steal his business.
“No,” I said, giving her an evil grin. “But this morning I left him a little surprise. I found a glo-wing and thought maybe Ralph needed a pet, so I left it just inside his door.”
Glo-wings were gorgeous little caterpillars that happened to multiply like crazy. As their name suggested, they glowed non-stop. They didn’t destroy anything except plants, but they spread like crazy, and required a massive amount of elbow grease to remove. You had to remove them all, because just one could repopulate the entire species. Later in the year, they went into stasis, then burst forth as beautiful autumn moths, but when they were in their caterpillar stage, they were nothing but nuisances.
“Oh man, you’re just escalating matters.”
“Too bad. He started it and I’m tired of his horny face.”
I raised my glass. “Here’s to payback.”
“I’d be cautious if I were you,” Sandy said, sipping her drink.
“M’rrow.” Bubba wandered in, swishing his tail. He had a feisty look in his eye, one that only led to trouble. As the gorgeous, massive orange tabby leaped up on the table to stare me in the face, I reached out, singing as I gave him an ear rub. He began to purr and I swept him into my arms, dancing with him.
“You want some catnip, Bub?”
Bubba liked to party as much as we did. I found his stash and sprinkled some on the cat bed sitting near the kitchen door that led to the backyard. He bounced down and began to purr, rolling on the green fleece.
Sandy gave him a long look. “He’s been awfully good lately. You think he’s up to something?”
“I never know what’s going on in that furry brain of his,” I said. “Cjinns are always cunning. They pride themselves on it. But he’s saved my ass more than once, so if he acts out now and then or wants to get stoned, I say go for it.” I tossed him a squeaky mouse and he rolled over, raking it with his back claws in a nip-induced frenzy.
“All the same, I wouldn’t touch his belly if I were you. Not with as much as we’ve been drinking. You’d end up with Alice from The Brady Bunch working for you.” Sandy handed me a bowl that she’d filled with potato chips, along with a tray of lemon bars. “A little sugar wouldn’t hurt us either.”
“Aegis made those for our guests. But what the hell, they’ll never miss them.” I glanced at the clock. Five p.m. “I never thought I’d wish away time, but with the waxing year, he has to sleep later and later. That, I don’t like.”
“How long till sunset?” Sandy peeked out the sliding-glass door.
“About seventy minutes, give or take a few.”
Vampires were bound to sleep during the day. At least most of them. I’d recently had an eye-opening experience that almost landed me dead, but had also netted us some pretty powerful information about a secret society of Aegis’s kind. Even he hadn’t been fully aware of it, but we were keeping our mouths shut because the ramifications were huge and we really didn’t want to set ourselves up as targets.
I was about to dive into the lemon bars when my cell phone rang. Or rather trumpeted. I grimaced. I had recently bought a new phone and hadn’t bothered to set new ring tones yet.
“I don’t recognize the number.”
“Maybe it’s somebody answering your ad.”
“That would be wonderful. Hold on while I take this.”
Sandy nodded, pulling out her own phone to check her texts while I took the call.
“Maudlin Gallowglass here.”
“Ms. Gallowglass? I’m Thornton Weston, calling about your ad in the Bedlam Crier. I’d like to apply, if the position’s still open.”
I blinked. I had no problem with a man applying, but apparently, my subconscious had been expecting a woman because his voice threw me off guard. It was deep and rich, and made me think of smooth, black coffee with just a hint of sugar.
“Why…well, of course you can. The job’s still open. Can you come by for an interview at ten tomorrow morning?” I thought about setting up the interview for evening, when Aegis was awake, but the last thing I needed was him chasing off a potential employee just because he was male. While Aegis was all kittens and cupcakes when he was in his domestic mood, my vampire boyfriend had a protective streak a mile wide, and it reared its green-eyed head at the most inopportune times. I needed a housekeeper now, not in two weeks after we had worked through his “But it’s a man, will you be safe” rhetoric.
“I’ll be there at ten, resume in hand.”
“Good. See you tomorrow.” With that, I hung up and Sandy and I went back to our impromptu pre-spring party.
“I DON’T CARE what you say, you’re not going to hire him until I get to meet him. You just call him back and change the appointment for when I’m awake.” Aegis tried to stare me down, but I was having none of it. Besides, he might have been imposing, except for the fact that he was wearing my kittens-and-bows apron over his black leather pants and holding a copper mixing bowl in one hand, and a wire whisk in the other.
“If I think he can do a good job, you damned well bet your pearly fangs I’m going to hire him. Why don’t you just use the mixer for that?” All of the yummy afterglow of the booze had fled my system. I was perched on the counter near Aegis, and I reached out with one foot to lightly tap his ass.
He gave me one of his “Are you kidding?” looks.
“You really know nothing about cooking, do you?” He quirked his lips into a slightly snarky grin.
I stuck out my tongue at him. “I know how to fry an egg. Beyond that, I know the names of my best friends—Chef Pizza-Joint, Chef Chicken-Chicken, and Chef-in-a-Can. Now tell me why you’re using a whisk for those egg whites.”
He shook his head, still whisking away. The egg whites were whipping up into a nice foam. “You’re incorrigible. It just so happens that egg whites are best whipped by hand in a copper bowl. It’s faster than using a mixer and you get better results. So if you really want lemon meringue pie for the guests tomorrow, you’ll quit back-seat baking and let me do my job.”
“Yes, sir,” I said meekly.
“And don’t you and Sandy go eating it all before we have a chance to offer it to the paying customers. I can’t just whip another one up in the middle of the day, you know.” He paused, leaning against the counter next to me. “Did the two of you really eat the entire pan of lemon bars I made? I’m glad you liked them, but it’s a wonder you both aren’t puking your guts out.”
“We have a high tolerance for booze and sugar, built up through centuries of practice.” I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t guilt trip me about my love for food and drink.”
“I won’t, if you quit complaining about the fact that I want to make sure you’re safe,” he shot back.
I rolled my eyes. “We have strange men in the house anyway. That’s what it means to own a bed-and-breakfast. Don’t forget, we take in strangers and give them a place to sleep. Maybe kindly old Mr. Mosswood is a serial killer.”
Aegis laughed, setting the bowl down. “Oh, Maddy, I love you. You crack me up. If Mr. Mosswood is a serial killer, then I can walk out into the sun and just get a nice tan.”
Mr. Mosswood was rapidly becoming a long-term guest. He had checked in three weeks ago, and kept extending his stay. He was slight, about five-seven and thin as a reed, and he was quiet and polite to the point of annoying. He wore a suit and hat that reminded me of something out of the 1950s—and I had lived through the fifties, so I knew they were genuine vintage.
Mr. Mosswood had thinning hair and wore round glasses. I thought of them as spectacles, because he seemed to be stuck in a time period long past. He was human, and he said he was gathering information for a book he wanted to write about the history of Bedlam. He paid on time, tipped well, and was a tidy man, so I welcomed him as long as he wanted to stay.
“Don’t you dare. Seriously, though, you never really know. Some of the worst killers have been the quietest. I’m sure Mr. Mosswood is thoroughly benign, but we know nothing of his background.” I leaned forward. “But he proves my point. He’s staying here, and he’s up and around while you’re sleeping. If he were a murderer, you wouldn’t be able to save me during the day. So why worry when I interview someone for a housecleaning job?”
Aegis pressed his lips together, regarding me as though I was an annoying gnat, and I knew I had won the argument. Finally, he plastered a kiss on my forehead, then bopped my nose with his finger. He smelled like musk and cinnamon, like dark knights on an autumn evening. My knees quivered as I stroked a long strand of his wavy jet black hair back from his face. His eyes were pools of coffee, tinged with crimson around the edges, and he was strong and fit, with a voice that made me melt.
“You know, you should finish making that pie, before the egg whites go flat,” I murmured.
�
��I don’t care about the egg whites,” he whispered, gathering me into his arms.
I squirmed, feeling him press hard against me. The egg whites might be going flat but something else wasn’t. But I didn’t complain as he carried me up the stairs, ending the conversation with a long, sweaty session in bed.
THE NEXT MORNING, I slid into my new jeans—black stretch denim with a lot of give to accommodate the padding of my butt, which was, as I liked to call it, curvalicious. I pulled on a short-sleeved V-neck silk shirt with cap sleeves. The deep green set off the teal of my eyes, and the rich brunette of my hair. I also had big boobs, which was fine with me. In fact, I was about as hourglass as they came, in terms of my figure.
I scooched my feet into a pair of black leather ballerina flats—I was about five-eight so I could do flats without feeling short—and fastened my pentacle around my neck, along with a rope of moonstone beads. The pentacle was about two inches in diameter and stood out against my shirt. I fastened on freshwater pearl chandelier earrings, then took a few minutes to slap on a quick ten-minute face at my vanity.
Bubba was next to my makeup mirror, watching. He cocked his head as I pursed my lips to apply my lipstick—a bright fuchsia. I hated any pinks that weren’t magenta or fuchsia, but neon colors and jewel tones rocked my world.
“Mrow.” Bubba reached out one paw to tap my arm.
I paused, trying not to jog the lipstick onto my face. “Bubs, hold on. I’ll feed you in a minute. I’m almost done.”
Bubba waited a beat until I raised the lipstick to my lips again, then—more firmly—smacked me on the hand with his paw.
“Bubba! Look at what you did!” I frowned at my reflection. A bright pink line of lipstick ran jaggedly down my chin. “Gee thanks, Bub.”