About the Book
Title: Black Magic and Mojitos
Author: A.A. Chamberlynn
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Only 99 cents!
Zyan Star’s latest job is turning into a real nightmare.
When supernatural bounty hunter Zyan Star jets down to Rio to meet a prospective client, everything goes as planned initially. That is, until she finds out the person hiring her is Raoul Cabrera, the half demon/half faery supernatural overlord of Brazil, who rubs elbows with Lucifer himself. And that he’s hired another bounty hunter, Donovan McGregor, to work with her.
Their target is a herd of Nightmares, horse spirits that torment people with visions of their worst fears before devouring their flesh. Zy and Donovan head out on the hunt, but it quickly becomes apparent that their client hasn’t given them all the facts. There’s a pissed-off, powerful witch summoning the Nightmares, and she’s out to exact some serious revenge on Raoul. Zy soon realizes she’s caught in the middle of a lover’s spat between two immensely powerful supernaturals, and it’s not clear whose side she should stand on. As if that weren’t enough, pulling off this job is going to require her to relive her worst fears and summon her own long-suppressed magical powers.
Let the supernatural Carnival begin.
Alexia Chamberlynn lives in Florida. When she’s not writing or reading, she can be found playing with horses, eating chocolate and other delicious things, drinking wine, traveling to the next place on her global wish list, or maybe doing yoga. She is represented by Sandy Lu of the L. Perkins Literary Agency. Connect with her at www.alexiachamberlynn.com.
We made our way to the Wicked Lizard to meet our potential client. It had a dingy, faded vibrancy that couldn’t decide if it was seedy or shabbily charming. Tucked away on one of the crooked back streets, it was shoved haphazardly between the other buildings. Music poured from within, and the second floor balcony sagged over the entrance, dripping with some sort of flowering vine that smelled of vanilla and childhood. Well, someone else’s childhood.
I walked through the splintered turquoise doorframe into the dim interior of the bar. For just a moment, I closed my eyes in bliss as cool air from the ceiling fans wafted over me and soaked into my skin. I sincerely hoped they had ice in this place. At this point, I would’ve traded a decade of my life for a cool drink.
The place was crawling with a variety of supernaturals, scattered about at mismatched tables. As we made our way to the back corner, we passed a group of shape shifters on the left, tigers by the smell of them. They stared at Riley, sensing his inner wolf, the frenetic tension between them palpable. Two witches up at the bar turned to give Quinn a friendly nod, and she waved, showing off by adding a bit of sparkle to her fingertips. I also identified a djinn, a faery or two, and even a ghoul, sitting by itself. Ghouls weren’t exactly the sociable type, so it was most likely planning to make a meal of one of the other customers. What I didn’t see, and would have almost zero chance of seeing outside of Ireland, was a supe like me. No, I was rare. And it was definitely better that way.