Beauty and the Jinx: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Jinxed by Love, #1

Acknowledgements

Edited so well again by Teresa M.

It is difficult to acknowledge everyone who plays a role in the production of a story. Of course, my family is always the biggest support, and I know I would wander aimlessly without that wonderful crew. They give me motivation when nothing else does, and how can I not love that they love me for some wild and crazy reason—they really, really love me.

And, again, thank you, Robyn Peterman. You have been more than generous with your time and energy and thank you for once again opening your story world for my characters to run around in. Thank you!

Dedication

Dedicated to the people of the world who give the rest of us hope with their generous natures and tireless advocacy for meaningful causes. I appreciate all that you do in the name of giving the next generation a better way. There are too many to name but, whether it’s natural disaster relief or care for our homeless population, these folks sacrifice time, energy, and resources to the world, and I dedicate this story to them.

Foreword

BLAST OFF WITH US INTO the Magic and Mayhem Universe!

I’m Robyn Peterman, the creator of the Magic and Mayhem Series and I’d like to invite you to my Magic and Mayhem Universe.

What is the Magic and Mayhem Universe, you may ask?

Well, let me explain...

It’s basically authorized fan fiction written by some amazing authors that I stalked and blackmailed! KIDDING! I was lucky and blessed to have some brilliant authors say yes! They have written brand new stories using my world and some of my characters. And let me tell you...the results are hilarious!

So here it is! Blast off with us into the hilarious Magic and Mayhem Universe. Side splitting books by fantabulous authors! Check out each and every one. You will laugh your way to a magical HEA!

For all the stories, go to https://magicandmayhemuniverse.com/. Grab your copy today!

Chapter 1

IVY NYX CHECKED HER grip and corrected her posture one more time. Three times was the charm and all her brain would accept, so she completed the ritual without hesitation. Then, as strange as it seemed, she reminded herself to relax her mouth. Pursed lips meant a tense swing—at least that’s what she’d been told by her latest golf swing coach. Goddess only knew how many she’d been through.

She blew a wisp of hair out of her line of sight and focused her gaze on the area about two inches in front of her teed-up golf ball. She concentrated on her one swing thought, Swing tall, and began to pivot, pulling the club back and out to create the half-arc that would build the momentum she needed to drive the ball long and straight.

The strike was clean and crisp. It felt good. It felt better than good. The moment she hit the ball, she knew it was a perfect hit.

She watched the ball sail over a small body of water on a direct line toward the flag. Hope built in her chest as she stared first at the flag and then at the ball. Back and forth, her gaze traveled with the golf ball arcing through the air. She watched, unblinking, as the ball landed on the green, bounced twice, and rolled toward the hole. For just a moment, she dared to believe she was actually going to make her first hole in one.

The ball began to slow as it approached the flagstick, and Ivy gave an encouraging jump into the air even as she shoved her 7-iron in the direction of the green.

This is it! I can’t believe... It’s really...

A familiar voice spoke up behind her, You’re really going to do it, Ivy.

She heard fumbling, but she didn’t dare turn away from the sight in front of her.

Where’s my phone? Need to take a video...of...this.

But it was too late for photography. As Ivy watched in fascination, the ball rolled easily along the surface of the green until it disappeared from sight. The only explanation was that it had dropped into the cup.

Her celebration was immediate and loud. She couldn’t have hushed herself if an entire delegation of librarians...or golf course officials...had insisted in that moment. She didn’t seem to have a single bit of control over the springy actions of her legs or the excited sounds escaping her mouth.

Did you do it? Is it an ace?

Yes! A hole in one, Flint! Can you believe that?

Ivy jogged to the golf cart, slid her club into her bag and hopped into the passenger seat next to her cousin, slapping her hands excitedly on her thighs. Come on! Let’s go see it for ourselves.

Flint gave a chuckle as he climbed in and hit the pedal to take them to the scene of Ivy’s greatest achievement up to now. Her skin felt too tight in that moment, and all she wanted to do was witness the sight of such an unusual happening for herself. Once she saw that ball in the hole, she’d know the Magic Open Tournament that was beginning tomorrow could be hers to win. She already loved the course. Cauldron Mountain Golf Course was one of the ultimate courses that golfers the world over wanted to play. She was one of the fortunate few currently playing on the PPGA, the Professional Paranormal Golf Association, and she needed to remember how privileged she was to be here.

Without waiting for the cart to come to a full stop, Ivy flung herself toward the light green, circular patch of grass with a pole bearing a white, numbered flag popping out of the center. She tripped over her feet briefly before righting herself and making her way toward the flag. For the briefest of moments, she slowed as doubt crept in like a spider in the night. What if she had made a hole-in-one? It would just encourage her grandmother’s insistence that she continue to play professionally.

Ivy was ready to quit golf. If she had anything to say about it, this would be her last tournament. If Flint told the indomitable matriarch of the family, her grandmother, about this, Ivy would never hear the end of it. It would all be about how she was wasting her talent if she walked away like she wanted to. And, so far, everyone was on her grandmother’s side.

Flint rushed past her as her pace slackened to a stop. Anxiety gripped her like a fist in her chest. She didn’t want to feel forced to play the game she once loved.

Come on, slowpoke! You have to be the one to pick the ball up, or you’ll have bad luck forever.

With a heavy sigh, Ivy pushed herself toward the flagstick. Once she was standing over the cup, she saw the white, dimpled sphere settled deep inside. A thrill of joy leaped in her abdomen, despite her anxiety.

She’d actually done it. She had made a hole-in-one. The Holy Grail for every golfer, and she’d done it.

Well, what are you waiting for? A parade? Pick it up.

Flint was right. However much pressure placed on her as a result of such a rare event, she should be proud of such an accomplishment.

She bent over at the waist, lifting her right leg straight out behind her and felt the bumpy surface of her ball as she wrapped her fingers around it. With slow precision, she stood and stared at the tiny, polymer-coated symbol of what her life had been devoted to for most of her youth. Her lips tipped up slightly at the corners, and she slipped the ball into her pocket, swiveling back toward the cart.

Put that somewhere special, Ivy. Don’t you dare tee that up ever again!

What’s the big deal? It’s just a ball.

Flint rushed around her, putting his hands on her shoulders to stop her from moving. Now you’re just talking crazy. That’s not just a ball anymore. It’s your lucky charm. He lowered his hands to his sides and lifted his mouth into a half-moon grin. You’re sure to win the tournament this week. Nothing can stop you when you have this kind of luck on your side.

Ivy snorted loudly in derision. Luck? Seriously? Do you really believe that, Flint?

One hundred percent. And you better take it seriously too if you want to get the top sponsors and build your reputation as a top professional golfer.

He made it sound desirable, and at one time, it was exactly what she’d wanted out of life. Now, she wasn’t so sure. At this point, despite what her grandmother insisted, she was a young witch with options. Maybe it was time to explore those options.

She shrugged and patted her skirt, feeling the rounded outline of the ball. Even if this were her final tournament, Flint was right. A little luck wasn’t a bad thing to have in her pocket.

Chapter 2

ZAYN GRAY STOOD ON his back deck, sipping his coffee and snarling at the multiple spectators as they milled about the course, trampling his hard work beneath their careless feet. This was his worst nightmare come true, and it happened every year. The Magic Open Tournament was an annual torture that he dreaded every June, even as he was responsible for getting the course prepared.

As the golf course superintendent, he worked year-round to get everything in shape, just so he could watch it all be destroyed in four days with thousands of witches, shifters, and all manner of paranormal creatures mindlessly meandering over the grass of the course until there was nothing left but dirt paths and trash.

Every damn year. If they knew what was good for them, they’d stay the hell away from his little part of the course. He wouldn’t be responsible for the beast he’d become if they even touched a leaf of his garden that backed up to the fifteenth hole. Although, with the impossibly tall, brick barrier wall that surrounded his place, it might take some real effort for anyone to try, and that was just the way he liked it.

He took another sip of coffee before turning with a shake of his head, exiting his second-floor deck, and making his way back inside his house. There was no avoiding it any longer. He needed to get dressed and find the tournament organizer. Though it was too late this year, with any luck, Zayn could convince Tripp Sanders, the tournament organizer, to move the major tournament to a different course next year.

Sure, the board of directors of Cauldron Mountain Golf Course might miss the income generated by such a spectacle, but if Zayn had to deal with people undermining his attention to the details of this course once more...well, he just couldn’t be held responsible for his beastly behavior.

The phone buzzed, redirecting the dangerous path his thoughts had taken, and he pulled the dreaded device from his pocket. If they were calling him already, it must be pretty bad.

Don’t tell me. Hampton forgot to rake the waste bunker on hole twelve again.

Sorry, boss. It was Zayn’ right-hand-man Siggy McDonald, and trepidation was heavy in his voice. I wish it were that simple.

What’s the problem then?

Several of the sprinkler heads around greens fifteen through eighteen won’t retract, and there’s standing water on the greens. They’re not playable right now.

Zayn ran a heavy hand down his face. He hadn’t drunk enough coffee to handle this just yet, but he didn’t have a choice. This was what he got paid for, and he refused to let a malfunction with the equipment mess up a tournament on his watch, whether he preferred it be played here or not.

I’m on my way. Make sure the whole crew is there. We might need everyone working on this.

Within fifteen minutes, Zayn was shouting orders to the magical folks he’d hired for this very reason. They were trying multiple spells, but