Moon Riders (The Black Bayou Bounty Hunters Book 1)

Book summary

In "Moon Riders," a formidable coven of witches, the Moon Riders, embarks on a perilous quest to thwart a fellow witch's sinister plan of unleashing magical creatures in Texas. Their journey introduces them to a diverse array of characters, from cursed individuals to a water witch and ancient Viking victims of witchcraft. Along the way, they confront the malevolent Rubidoux family, enslavers of fellow witches, and grapple with a formidable demon summoned by the Rubidoux clan. In this enchanting tale, readers delve into a world of magic, following the resilient journey of empowered women through a treacherous and unpredictable landscape.

Excerpt from Moon Riders (The Black Bayou Bounty Hunters Book 1)

The witch stood over the whimpering creature, laughing as her subordinates dressed in black robes looked on. “Do you think this was wise, Madam Rubidoux?” one of the robed women asked in a voice trembling with both fear and shame. “This spell has been banned by the Council for centuries now and for a good reason.” She glanced down at the dark-skinned man with his long black hair wet with sweat.

Her superior kicked the naked man. “Look at him, Georgette,” she said in a commanding tone, “he’s Choctaw and little more than a beast anyhow.” She closed the large, leatherbound grimoire and returned it to the painted wooden box. “My contact in the Statehouse has paid me well to turn these dirty beasts into Loup-Garou and send them across the border into this new Republic of Texas to wreak havoc upon the new citizens there … and send them back here where they belong.”

Georgette stared at her High Priestess with contempt. “We have never used our power to meddle in the politics of those around us, Madam. That too has been banned by the Council.”

Lillianna Rubidoux, High Priestess of the Rubidoux Coven, stared down at the shorter woman who stood as her second in the circle. Then she drew back her arm and delivered a slap that sent the smaller woman flying across the grassy circle lit by candles and lanterns for the ceremony. “How dare you speak to your High Priestess in that tone, Georgette.” She motioned to two of the robed men. “Take Georgette—along with this hairy piece of filth—to the holding cell in the cellar.” She grinned down at Georgette. “Strip her naked and leave her with the beast for three days.” She began to laugh at the horror on the other woman’s face. “And nights. Then shackle them and take them across the river into Texas and release them into the wilds there.”

Georgette got to her knees and grabbed Lilianna’s hand. “I’m sorry, Priestess. I meant no disrespect.”

Lillianna shoved her away. “You meant every word of disrespect, Georgette.” She glanced at the sweating man in the grass. “I would be interested to know if your offspring with this beast claw themselves from your womb as fully formed mewling pups or human-like to suckle at your breasts, Georgette.” The tall, stately witch walked away laughing as two men dragged the sobbing woman and incoherent savage into the island’s massive chateaux.

“I’m sorry, Miss Georgette,” one of them said in a lowered voice, “but the Madam’s word is law here, and we cannot disobey.”

“Quiet, Maurice,” the other hissed, “or someone will hear you, and the Madam will change us along with these other beasts.” He tugged at the incoherent prisoner.

“But Miss Georgette was only saying what all the rest of us have been thinking,” Maurice said with a furrowed brow. “If the Council hears what we’ve been doing here, they will wipe out the Rubidoux and probably sink our island back into Black Bayou, Francois.”

Francois stopped and put a hand to his temple. “I think this will surely happen, Maurice, but not in our lifetime and perhaps not even in the lifetime of our children.”

They resumed their way down the steep, narrow stairs leading down into the cellars. They came to a large door with bars in it and Maurice took a key down from an iron hook. He turned to Georgette. “Will you remove your clothing, Mistress, or must I do it for you?”

With trembling hands, Georgette unbuttoned her blouse and then her skirt. She removed them and folded the garments before handing them to the man beside her who’d averted his eyes. Georgette then removed her camisole and heavy petticoat, leaving her naked before the men. She shivered more from shame and anger than modesty or the dampness of the cellar. Her dark hair fell in ringlets over her shoulders to cover her heaving bosoms.

Maurice opened the cell door, and the faces of two other Choctaw men lifted from their straw pallets on the floor. Someone had secured their legs in shackles attached to the stone wall, and they didn’t bother to move other than to sit up and stare at the beautiful naked woman as she was brought into the cell and shackled between them. They spoke to the Choctaw man when they brought her in, and he talked to them in their language, motioning to Georgette from time to time.

“I told them that they gave you to us for breeding,” he told Georgette in broken English after the guards had gone. He spoke to them again in their language, and the men licked their lips as they glared at her. “It will go badly for you, witch, as one of the ones that did this to us.” He grinned and reached out to twist her breast. “But maybe you witches like it that way.”

Georgette’s terrified screams resonated up the stairwell into the chateau for the rest of the night.

Elzbieta and Petronilla DuBois entered the large brick home of their High Priestess and Aunt Corinthia DuBois with a dispatch pouch they’d just liberated from a courier headed to Rubidoux Island.

“The Madam is in a meeting with the Choctaw Chief,” their cousin Reina said in a hushed voice as she offered her sweating cousins glasses of cooled lemon water rather than the hot mint tea she’d prepared for her aunt and the Chief. “There is something bad going on out there in the bayou,” she said, “and the Choctaw are in a frenzy over it.”

“We’ve all been feeling the power drawn from the swamp creatures,” Petronilla, who preferred to be called Pete, said as she took the tall cool glass and ran it across her forehead for relief from the oppressive summer heat. “I’d wager it’s a full circle doing something that needs a good deal of power to accomplish, and they’re drawing so much power from the small creatures, we’re finding them dead everywhere.”

As a strong Empath, Pete could experience those creatures' pain and suffering as someone drew the life force from them to perform her magic.

“Is this what the Choctaw are here about?” Elzbieta asked. “The dead animals they hunt for food and such?”

Reina shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t hear much,” she said with a sigh as she joined them at a large wooden table with a glass of her own, “but I think it had more to do with missing men from their village.”

Elzbieta furrowed her brow and tapped the dispatch rolled in a leather tube on the table. “Perhaps the answers are here,” she said. “What do the Rubidoux have to do with men from the Statehouse anyhow? We don’t meddle in the affairs of the government.” She sipped the sweet lemon water. “It’s against the rules set by the Council decades ago.”

They heard voices as Corinthia and the Chief dressed in skins and decorated with beads, shells, and alligator teeth came from her private office.

“We will look into your missing men, Cayman,” Corinthia said graciously.

“My people and I fear to travel far into the swamp now, Madam,” he said with a bow. “There is much bad magic there, and someone has roused and angered the wolf spirits.”

The petite woman patted his bare, tawny shoulder. “We will look into that as well. We, too, have felt the discord in the swamp around our great bayou.”

The beads and shells woven into his long black hair tinkled as he nodded. “Our shamans fear this discord you speak of comes from the island, Madam DuBois. It is why I came to you with this.”

Corinthia nodded. “We shall look into it, my friend, and I will send a few of our women to aid your fine shaman with wards to protect your village from any angry spirits that might be near.”

Cayman bowed again. “That will be much appreciated, Madam,” he said and took his leave through the front door of the big house.

Corinthia made her way into the kitchen. “I suppose you heard all that?” she asked as she joined her nieces at the table.

The three younger women nodded. Elzbieta pushed the leather tube across the table. “We took this off a courier getting into a boat headed out to the island,” she said with a frown. “A courier who said he was from the Statehouse.”

“Oh, my,” Corinthia said as she popped the cap off the tube and removed the dispatch, “What does Lilianna Rubidoux have in the works now?” She unrolled the paper and read, her brow furrowing deeper as she went down the page. “That damned woman is going to be the death of our kind yet,” she hissed as she slammed the paper back onto the table.

Reina leaped from her chair. “Let me get you a cool glass of lemon water to calm your nerves, Madam,” she said as she filled another tumbler.

Corinthia ran her hand through her bright red curls. “I fear it won’t calm me unless you add a splash of that white rum to it, Reina.”

“Is it so bad, Madam?” Elzbieta asked with a concerned glance at her cousin. “What are the Rubidoux up to now, and how does it concern the Louisiana government?”

Corinthia tapped the paper. “I fear this answers all the questions the Chief came here today to ask me about.”

Elzbieta pulled the paper across the table, and she, along with Petronilla, read it in silence. “The wolf spirits he talked about are …” Petronilla gasped.

“It seems Lilianna and her coven have been stealing Choctaw men from the swamp and creating Loup-Garou,” Corinthia said with an angry sigh.

“Loup-Garou?” Elzbieta gasped. “But to what end?”

Reina brought Corinthia the tall glass of lemon water dosed with rum and the pitcher to refill the other women's glasses. “But the Loup-Garou curse has been banned by the High Council upon pain of death for centuries now.” She took her seat. “Why would the Rubidoux dare use it now?”

“Money,” Corinthia stormed as she set the half-empty glass on the table. “According to that dispatch, the government has paid the Rubidoux Coven five hundred dollars to create Loup-Garou and will pay them another five hundred once they’ve transported the beasts into the Republic of Texas.”

“But to what end?” Reina asked again. “I don’t understand. It makes no sense to me for them to create and release those monsters into Texas.”

Corinthia snorted. “Someone had the bright idea that sending monsters into the wilds of the new state would send the settlers fleeing back home to Louisiana or wherever else they came from, with stories to discourage further movement of people away from the civilized east and keep all their tax money here.”

Petronilla shook her blonde head, and the curls danced on her shoulders. “That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed. “People will still move west looking for land of their own in places like Oregon and gold in places like California and Colorado.” She sipped her lemon water. “Human beings are nomads and will always be looking for someplace better than where they are.” She shrugged. “It’s their nature.”

Corinthia smiled at her niece. “You are right, my dear, but for now, we must consider what to do about the crisis at hand. Chief Cayman’s men are being taken and cursed with the Loup-Garou curse. If they kill a human being before the next moon is full, the coven cannot lift the curse, and we will have to dispose of them.”