Check this book out. I can’t wait to read it. I love the cover!
Title: Voodoo Vows
Author: Diana Marie DuBois
Series: Voodoo Vows (Book 1)
Publisher: Three Danes Publishing LLC
Release: Date: Oct. 31st 2014
Rosie Delacroix returns to New Orleans after her mother’s disappearance, is pulled into an unimagined world and gets more than she bargained for.
Ensconced in the life of magic and voodoo, she’s surrounded by unlikely allies.
Julian Quibodeaux, an old flame, re-enters her life and their love is once again reignited like dry tinder to a flame. However, he’s been cursed and unaware he holds a terrible secret…One that could destroy their relationship.
Author Amazon Page: http://www.amazon.com/Diana-Marie-DuBois/e/B00O97TWUO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1414713257&sr=8-1
As a young girl, Diana Marie Dubois was an avid reader and was often found in the local public library. Now you find her working in her local library. Hailing from the culture filled state of Louisiana, just outside of New Orleans; she lives with her three Great Danes and four spunky mutts. Her biggest inspiration has always been the infamous Anne Rice and her tales of Vampires. It was those very stories that inspired Diana to take hold of her dreams and begin writing. She is now working on her first series, Voodoo Vows.
Even in the daytime the cemetery had an eerie, spooky aura surrounding the place. The three of us walked to the mausoleum believed to house Marie Laveau’s body. The dozens of X’s placed all over made me wonder if the people actually had received the gift or wish they so desperately wanted. Or was she angered by the graffiti upon her resting place, and had exacted the appropriate revenge on those that dared mark her tomb? I sighed at the assortment of candles and bones and other things left behind for Marie.
Coldness surrounded me, before I sat down on a bench that appeared out of nowhere. Jahane stood behind me with her hand on my shoulder. The comfort that exuded from that one touch almost brought tears, but, no, not today. The time to be strong was now. I began to empty my purse when, out of my peripheral vision, I saw a ghostly figure walk around the disheveled marble mausoleum. Immediate fear and shock consumed me. She was dressed in a long flowing skirt that billowed around her without the hint of a breeze; her sheer dark skin shimmered in the sun. A beautiful shawl was draped over her shoulders, and the white tignon was tied perfectly around her head. She continued towards us, her fingertips trailing along the white marble of the giant tomb. I looked up at her in awe as her body shimmered back and forth from grainy to solid…there, but not quite there.
“Ah, mon piti,” she spoke in a mixture of English, and the lilt of her accent accentuated her creole French language. “I had hoped you would come at my invitation and visit me, as your mér had.