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Chapter 1
Zoe
Slinging gumbo wasn’t easy.I knew that going into this industry, but even then, I wasn’t prepared for how competitive it was.
Sure, my stomping grounds were right in the middle of gumbo central: in beautiful, colorful downtown New Orleans. But I had a secret weapon—or should I say, a secret recipe, passed down to me from Grandma Violet.
It hardly seemed to make a difference, though.
As I scrubbed at a particularly stubborn stain in one of my metal pans that morning, I let out a sigh. In the two years since I’d started Miss Gumbo’s Food Truck, it had been a struggle to make enough money to pay my bills. At this point, I was worried that the next mechanical failure or broken appliance would be the end of my business.
Positive thoughts, positive thoughts, I told myself for the umpteenth time.
Grandma Violet always told me that positive thoughts attracted great things, and I was trying my hardest to follow her advice. Still, it was hard to stay positive when I had to constantly bust ass to barely stay afloat.
Having finally scrubbed off the baked-on stain, I made the mistake of glancing into the shimmering metal pan, catching sight of my frizzy brunette locks. In the humid Louisiana air, my hair was an unruly cloud, making me look like a mad scientist who’d accidentally electrocuted herself.
Not exactly the image of elegance.
I groaned and pulled my hair into a quick ponytail, turning the pan away to spare myself any further details. I had more important things to worry about anyway, so who was I trying to attract? It wasn’t like I had time for a love life.
And after what Jacob, my ex, did to me in culinary school, I was more than happy to stay single for the rest of my life. I mean, I wasn’thappy, but I definitely didn’t need to go through that kind of heartache again.
I still couldn’t believe the bastard stole my grandma’s signature recipe to win a scholarship for a premier French culinary school—the same culinary school I had dreamed about attending since I was a little girl.
Now that bastard was gallivanting around France, living his best life while I was left struggling to keep my head above water.
But the past was in the past. Lesson learned. Now it was time to grind, hustle, and build up a loyal customer base. I knew Grandma’s recipe was a winner, and the bold scent of her signature spice blend should have been enough to draw people in—if only I could find a prime parking location.
The food truck industry was cutthroat. Okay, maybe “cutthroat” was a bit of an exaggeration; it wasn’t like we were slashing each other’s brake lines or tires. But when it came to parking? Yeah, that was a different story.
Every day, I would start my route early in the morning, driving the streets and searching for the perfect spot to park. And every day, I would end up settling for the lot in front of a local grocery store, or a skeevy strip mall, or some other location that was less than ideal.
As far as my bank account was concerned, I might as well have been parking at the cemetery.
I had a plan, though: the Bayou Cookoff, where up-and-coming chefs competed for the title of Best Gumbo.
This competition could be the answer to my marketing problem. Everybody would want to try a bowl if I won the title, regardless of where I was parked.
It was a long shot, I knew, but I was determined.
I had a feeling about this year’s contest. I didn’t know why, but the stars felt like they were going to align. They had to every millennia or so, right?
Seeing that my current parking spot was a dud, I decided to employ a tactic that had worked in the past. I pulled out my phone and started scrolling the local social media for any events or happenings that might pull in an unexpected crowd.
I scrolled for a few minutes, pausing here and there to evaluate any opportunities.
There was a free yoga class in the park… Nah, who would want a piping hot bowl of spicy gumbo right after stretching?
There was the farmers’ market downtown, but all the big players had those open spots on lock down…
Ooh, a dog parade? I had a feeling my best friend Annabelle would be at that one. But it finished at noon and was on the other side of the city, so it’d be over by the time I got there and set up shop.
Then something caught my eye: people were posting pictures of a fire just a few blocks from where I was currently stationed. It was happening at an old abandoned cannery, with a low likelihood of anyone being injured, but the fire still needed to be put out before it spread to any of the nearby businesses.
I glanced at the comments of a few pictures to see if there was further information, only to have my mouth drop at the gossip that was already spreading.
Everyone was speculating that the fire was the result of a monster attack, with some people even claiming to have seen a tiefling or a dragon shifter fleeing the scene.
