Gnome Coming: A humorous paranormal novel (Freaky Florida Book 4) by Ward Parker

Author:Ward Parker [Parker, Ward]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mad Mangrove Media
Published: 2020-07-30T16:00:00+00:00

Jack performed the ritual in the parking lot of a home improvement box store. He was at the very far end of the lot, away from any other cars, so no one noticed him kneeling naked beside his car. A cattle egret searching for insects strutted past him and looked at him quizzically. But otherwise, he was alone with his prayers adapted from ones passed down from the Spanish Inquisition.

Shortly after finishing, he caught the scent of the black magic. It wasn’t the smell of brimstone or sulfur as you might expect. It was more like bad cabbage. Now he knew which direction to go and he drove the van to the nearest highway. He would need to make adjustments to his route as he progressed, but he felt confident that he could follow the scent to its source.

Two hours later, Jack was hungry, so he stopped at a fast-food chain for a meal. He selected what he called a Happy Meal, a young tourist from Iowa snatched from his car. After Jack tossed the bones in a dumpster, he got back on the two-lane highway that meandered through farm country and small towns in the central part of the state.

The scent was getting stronger, no denying it. He glanced at the gnome standing in the passenger seat, secured by its safety belt.

“You will be free soon, little guy,” the ogre said to it.

An hour later, as row after row of citrus trees lined the road, he suddenly felt as if he were being watched. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. Just a beat-up pickup behind him. No one in front of him.

There, he felt it again. Some magic was definitely at work here. A prickling sensation ran through his scalp and down his neck. He swallowed with fear and ran his finger between his collar and neck.

Black magic, he was sure of it.

He shrugged off the feeling and concentrated on the road and the scent he followed. It wasn’t a constant smell like driving toward a fertilizer factory. The way it worked was he’d pick up tiny puffs of scent here and there, like tumbleweeds tossed by the wind. And he would simply travel in the direction they came from. The witch who created the magic emitted a certain degree of scent herself, having been permeated with the massive power she’d built to do her magic. But every day she sent out more odors as she cast new spells or used her magic in other ways. Even mundane daily activities emitted odors of magic. If you were a powerful sorcerer, that is.

The scent was getting very strong now. A low humming distracted him. It came from the gnome beside him. It was vibrating compactly, so rapidly it looked blurry.

Again, that prickling in his scalp.

As the unofficial enforcer for the Magic Guild of San Marcos, Jack had dealt with his share of unsavory characters. It was like his years working for the mob, except now his opponents used lightning bolts and concussion spells instead of bullets and bombs.

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