IMPORTANT: Did you preorder EVIL EYE yet? March 6 is coming up so fast!! And Jack, Tess, and the gang are in SO much trouble this time. It all starts when a certain pirate shows up in Tess’s pawn shop … scroll down for a sneak peek!
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EVIL EYE: coming March 6!
Chapter One
When I walked into my pawn shop this morning, a pirate was talking to my alligator. This was unexpected, since both of them were dead.
“Not again,” I groaned.
The alligator, whose swamp-swimming days were long over, said nothing. She’d been taxidermied before Elvis left the proverbial building. Her name was Fluffy, and she sported a sparkly purple scarf. Her tail was also bisected by a big strip of duct tape (neon green this time) to hide the hole from when my part-time assistant shot it.
It wasn’t Eleanor’s fault. She was trying to shoot the tiger.
The pirate, on the other hand, had a much bigger reaction, if the way the feathers in his hat quivered was any indication.
“Well, voila. What sweet little nugget of red-haired deliciousness do we have here? Sacre bleu! I’d like to sink my teeth into her—”
I wasn’t sure which was redder, my face or my hair, by the time I got over my surprise for long enough to form words. “Stop right there, Buddy—or is it Captain?—I am so not in the mood.”
The pirate, who’d started toward me, froze in mid-step. His piercing dark eyes pinned me in place, but I tried not to notice how handsome he was because, as I mentioned earlier: dead.
Ghost, to be specific.
“You can see me?”
Dang. I should have pretended I didn’t. That’s how I’d handled the few ghost sightings I’d had before.
Too late now.
“Yes.” I sighed. “I can see you. But I don’t know what you expected to get out of talking to Fluffy. It has a weird Captain Hook vibe to it, but Fluffy never swallowed any clocks.”
His forehead furrowed. “Who is this Captain Hook? Does he sail with the Spanish?”
“No. It’s … never mind. Who are you, and why are you in my pawn shop, if you don’t mind me asking?” I used my polite voice, of course—twenty-six years of southern upbringing was baked into my DNA along with a monumental over-fondness for pecan pie and sweet tea.