In the heart of the Louisiana bayou, deep enough that the city lights of New Orleans couldn’t pierce the dense canopy, Mambo Celeste’s shack stood as a hidden sanctuary among the whispering reeds and draping moss [see Moondance Book 2 – The Witch and the Wolf]. The shack, a weathered structure of creaking wood and thatched roof, was filled with a symphony of night sounds: chirping crickets, the distant howl of an animal, and the gentle lapping of water against the swamp’s edge.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of burning incense, its smoke curling like ghostly serpents into the dim light cast by scattered candles. Their flames flickered, casting shadows that danced like restless spirits across walls lined with shelves burdened by mystical artifacts: skulls of various creatures, vo
