Excerpt From City of Spirits

I’m working on a new book with the working title City of Spirits. Wyatt Thomas, protagonist of my novel Big Easy returns, along with homicide detective Tony Nicosia, bar owner Bertram Picou and voodoo mambo Mama Mulate.

Wyatt’s ex-wife Mimsy has died from breast cancer. At her wake, he meets her widower Rafael, a defrocked Catholic priest. Father Alphonso, the parish priest warns Wyatt not to associate with Rafael because he has dealings with the devil and his mother is a witch.

Father Alphonso senses that Wyatt is in spiritual conflict and needs to return to the church. Rafael recognizes the same conflict and advises Wyatt to consult his mother. Here is an excerpt from City of Spirits where Wyatt visits Rafael’s mother at her shop, Madeline’s Magic Potions.

Excerpt from City of Spirits

I stood outside on the banquette, staring at the lettering on the antique door proclaiming Madeline’s Magic Potions, wondering if I should go in or just keep walking. Before I could do either, a woman opened the door.

“I’m Madeline. Please come inside,” she said, her insistent tone indicating that no wasn’t an acceptable response.

I followed her into the shop, waiting as she locked the door behind us and put a closed sign in the window. The lighting was dim, the air a combination of antiquity and incense. An old rotating fan whirred on the cabinet, setting up a tinkling crescendo when its breeze encountered an eerie old wind chime decorated with gargoyles. A big black cat lay on the front cabinet, pawing a toy mouse.

Madeline had long brown hair tinged with ample amounts of gray that touched the orange and black crocheted Afghan draping her shoulders. Her dark dress covered even her feet and dragged across the tiles of the old shop’s well-worn floor.

The droning chorus of a Gregorian chant emanated from hidden speakers, adding to the metaphysical feelings saturating my psyche since entering the little shop. Old wooden display cabinets, filled with candles, incense, and colorful crystals divided the room. Eclectic art for sale on the walls varied from fire-breathing dragons and gargoyles to art deco prints of Elvis and Marilyn Monroe. A suit of armor stood alone in a corner.

Madeline led me though the maze to a dark room in back lined with jars filled with various potions. The black cat followed us, winding between my legs as I walked. Madeline sat at a little table and began shuffling a deck of Tarot cards.

“Please,” she said, nodding at the high-backed chair facing her on the opposite side of the table. Seeing my confusion, she stopped shuffling the cards. “You are here for a reading, aren’t you?”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure why I’m here.”

Madeline took my answer as a yes and continued shuffling the cards. Tires screeched outside the little shop and we both flinched at the ensuing crash. Madeline shook her head and placed the cards on the table.

When she smiled, I could see the resemblance to her son. Both had dark eyes, long hooked noses and olive complexions. They both had mysterious faces often possessed by successful runway models. Her cat rubbed against my legs and I rubbed its head.

“Jinx likes you. That means you are a good person. The cards will tell me even more about you.”

It was my turn to smile. “Then maybe you should read them for me.”

Madeline nodded. Taking a long match from the cabinet behind her, she lit the two candles bordering the little table. Their flickering light seemed to meld with must and muffled chants. Tapping the deck once with her gnarly index finger, she handed it to me.

“Shuffle the cards and then cut them into seven stacks.”

After following her directions, I watched as she arranged the stacks into a unique shape, flipping over the top cards in each. She studied them and then stared at me, as if trying to penetrate my eyes to see what answers my brain possessed. A new chant began and I recognized it as Dies Irae.

“You are a sensitive person and have a problem. You are in conflict. Something or someone from your past worries you and you seek enlightenment. You are torn between whom to trust and what to believe. I also see something else.”

I hung on her words, almost afraid that she had something ominous to tell me.

“Please continue,” I finally said.

“Paths have crossed. Destinies have intersected. You have met someone recently – a powerful person. Danger stalks him and you are now inextricably involved in that danger. It is a good thing you called when you did.”

Madeline stopped talking when I shook my head. “I didn’t call you.”

“But, I thought –“

“I came by because of your son.”

“Rafael? How do you know my son?”

“We were married to the same woman. I met him at Mimsy’s wake.”

Madeline reached across the table and grasped my hand. “He told me he saw you there. I’m so sorry for your loss. Rafael was devastated. I wish I could have attended the wake with him, but –“

“I understand. Father Alphonso. He said you are a witch.”

“He is quite correct. I am a witch.”

I waited for her to smile. She did not. “This town is rife with voodoo shops, soothsayers and every manner of religious charlatan. Surely Father Alphonso can’t fault you for making a living.”
Madeline released my hand and drew back in her chair. “I don’t do this to make a living. I have a gift and I use it to help people. I resent being called a religious charlatan.”

“I’m so sorry if you thought that I meant you. I just can’t see that what you do is the work of the –“

“The Devil?”

I nodded again. “That’s how Father Alphonso made it seem.”

Eric'sWeb