Read Cajun Magic 01 - Voodoo on the Bayou for Free Online Page A

that lawyer jargon.”
    “I didn’t come here to get away from a woman,” Craig grumbled. “I have legitimate business with Jason Littington.”
    “Yeah, and I ain’t partial to beer. Since when do you lawyers perform house calls? And when do you plan to head back to New Orleans?”
    Resigned, Craig climbed out of the boat and walked a few steps toward the bait shop before he answered. “I’m not sure. Considering my present circumstances, I’m not certain I’ll ever go back. You have got to help me out of this mess.”
    “You’re ignoring my question.”
    “Look, if it bothers you for me to be here, I’ll leave.”
    “Dug a finger in a festering wound, did I?” Uncle Joe dropped his arms to his side. “You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. I can always use the help with the marina.”
    “Thanks, Uncle Joe,” Craig said. “But that still doesn’t fix my problem.”
    “Maybe an apology to Madame LeBieu and her granddaughter would be the place to start.”
    Craig ground his teeth. “The thought of apologizing to that old witch goes against the grain. I acted like a gentleman with her granddaughter and she considers that cause enough to sentence me to being a frog? I don’t get it.” His shoulders sagged and he sighed. “But if apologizing will get her to lift the spell, I’ll do it. Anything to keep from changing back into a frog.”
    “That’s more like it. Sometimes you got to get humble. And in the meantime, be nice to the lady scientist. She might be your salvation, the one to fall in love with you and break the spell.”
    Uncle Joe didn’t seem to understand. Craig wasn’t interested in love. As a high-dollar attorney-for-hire, he’d represented the gamut of divorce cases. He’d witnessed what he’d thought were reasonable adults do cruel and ugly things to each other in the name of revenge and greed.
    Disillusioned, he had sworn to avoid the “D” word the only way he knew how…by thoroughly avoiding the “M” word. With his job and his life-style, he couldn’t picture any one woman sharing his life for longer than half a year—max. And then what? Divorce, raked over the coals, dragged through the quagmire of he-said-she-said court.
    No thanks, not for him.
    Craig stomped back to the bait shop for bug repellent. He’d have to hurry if he planned to talk with Madame LeBieu before sunup.
    Hell. And he’d thought his law practice was stressful. So much for coming to Bayou Miste to conduct a little business and snatch a bit of peace and quiet.
    …
    “My words stand.” Madame LeBieu’s melodious voice held a hint of steel. She stood with her arms crossed over her massive bosoms and her lips pressed into a stubborn line. The skirt of her Hawaiian-print muumuu billowed in the breeze blowing in off the gulf. “You must find a woman to love you before de next full moon, or you’re skinny little butt be a green hoppin’ one forever.”
    “You can’t be serious.” Craig flung a hand in the air and paced the ground in front of the rickety porch. “How am I supposed to get a woman to love me when I’m a frog?”
    “You got all night long to work yer magic, my friend.”
    He stopped in front of Madame LeBieu. “Most people sleep at night.”
    “Dat be your problem.”
    “And where am I supposed to find an eligible woman in the swamps?”
    “Bayou Miste has plenty single women. What about de scientist lady I sent f—what come here on a mission? You be sure and help her find what she be lookin’ for. Her heart is true and she cares, unlike you.”
    Craig stood at the foot of the warped wooden steps holding a lantern high to size up his adversary. He’d argued in some of the most hostile courtrooms and won cases against the best attorneys, but Madame LeBieu was in a league all her own. “I don’t have time to date swamp women. I’ve got to complete the deal with Littington and get back to New Orleans. I can’t go as a frog. Be reasonable.”
    “Looks to me