Rags to Witches: Blue – Chapter One


Disclaimer: The kid is sixteen and a little on the smart ass side. If references to things a teenage warlock might think or do bothers you, don’t read this.  My writing of these actions in no way meant to be an endorsement of such behavior. Thank you.



This is some good shit, I think as I take a deep pull on the joint Tyler has fired up. A little buzz on a Malibu beach at sunset is a good thing indeed. To my left, lying on her back on a towel, is my girlfriend, Kayla. She’s more buzzed than I am. But that’s okay. I’ll take care of her. Hell, I can take care of everyone.


I’m finally sixteen and in possession of an actual driver’s license. Of course, I’ve been driving without one since I was twelve. Kayla thinks I’m twenty, so I can’t tell her how happy I am about turning sixteen. It’s complicated. But everything about my life is. By day, I’m employed as a werewolf on a popular television series – The Werewolf Chronicles. By night I party with my friends while pretending to be the world’s most innocent teenager to my sister and her husband, who happens to also be my father. Like I said, it’s complicated.


Unfortunately for me, I have so many secrets that I juggle on a daily basis, I hardly know what’s real any longer. Right now I’m living with my dad and my sister – half-sister if you’d care to nitpick – but I can tell that Kayla would like a more permanent situation. She thinks I’m twenty after all; she’s twenty-one. If she knew my actual age, she’d kick me to the curb real fast. I started dating her at fourteen – oops. She plays a werewolf on the show as well – that’s how we met. She was my first. I doubt she’ll be my last.


It’s like this. I inherited my father’s luck with women. They love me. I’m not being conceited. They really do. I can have my pick of the litter and I know it. But Kayla’s fine for now. We’re crazy about each other and in bed, well, we’re just plain crazy.


Tyler’s asking me if want another hit. Sure, I tell him. It’s my party and I’ll fly if I want to. “Come here, KayKay,” I say with a giggle. Yep, I’m stoned. No two ways about it. She flops on my chest and plays with my hair. I have good hair, she claims. I also inherited that from my father. My good looks, I could claim, came from a combination of my parents, both of which are smokin’ hot. That’s mostly due to what they call a nutritional supplement that they take on a weekly basis. Someday I’ll start as well, but not yet. I don’t want to stay sixteen forever, way to many hormonal changes going on.


Tyler says that it’s getting late and we need to get up early in the morning.


“Man, you’re no fun,” I whine. But he’s right and I know it. So we gather up our beach crap and pile into the new car my Dad gave me for my birthday. A sleek, black BMW Series 6 sedan – yep, my daddy gives good gifts. Tyler is practically carrying his girlfriend to the car she’s so shit-faced. I can’t even remember her name.


We head out on the highway where I can open her up a little. The night air feels good after the salty air of the beach. I feel like I could drive all night but I know if I’m late for work the director will have a fit, which means that Sis and Dad will also have a fit. So I pull into Tyler’s driveway and drop him and his semi-comatose girlfriend off.


“See ya tomorrow,” I call after them as I back out and head for Kayla’s.


“Stay with me tonight,” she says in her soft, sexy voice as she snuggles with me, her beautiful blond hair casting about wildly in the wind.


“I can’t, baby. I’m sorry,” I say. Honestly, I don’t know if my prison guards would allow me to stay with her or not. I’m really surprised they haven’t tried to put an end to our shenanigans. I guess I’m a better faker than I think I am.


In the driveway, Kayla pulls me in for a sloppy kiss. “Please?” she says, her eyes telling me all I need to know. I gently pull her off of me. “I promised them I’d be back by midnight.”


“You’re twenty years old. Why do they still treat you like a kid?” she whines. I hate it when she gets all needy like this. “Why don’t you move in with me?” she adds.


Woah! Did she just say that or am I that high? I laugh, not sure just how to respond. I’m pretty sure Sis would not allow me to move in with a girl, especially since my folks, my Mom and my other Dad, would have a complete meltdown. Shit.


So I say “Hey, baby, you need help getting inside?” Anything to get off of this topic. She leans over and gives me a big, sloppy tongue-thrusting kiss. Normally, that would be enough for instant arousal, but her bringing up the topic of moving in has shot that possibility down for the night. I’m not ready to move in with anybody. At least I don’t think I am. She pulls the handle and opens the door, loosely removing herself from my car.


“Goodnight,” she says, leaning on the car for stability, those beautiful blue eyes glassy and unfocused. “I love you, Blue.”


“Love you too,” I say, not completely sure it’s true, but that’s what chicks want to hear, right? As she waddles drunkenly toward her door, I put the car in reverse and back out as far as the end of the driveway. I wait until she’s safely inside, though. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. I learned all about being a gentleman from my real Dad. Actually from both my fathers.


As I begin the drive back home, I think about what a strange web of lies I’ve woven. Aside from the age secret, there’s my family life – a therapist’s dream come true. Let’s see. My mother married Josh and they had a girl they nicknamed Pink Stuff. Then Mom goes and has an affair with my father, gets knocked up and has me. Then my sister goes  and falls in love with my father, they get hitched and have twins. Confused yet? I told you, it’s complicated.


And, of course, the biggest secret – the one I dare not tell anyone – is that I come from a long line of witches and warlocks. Yep, that’s the one thing I keep under wraps at all costs. Like I said, a therapist’s dream.


So I sneak in the house, assured of keeping my partying a secret because Dad and Sis are in bed by ten every night. I make it to the steps and I hear “Blue, you’re home!”


Oh no, Sis is still awake. “Yeah, Pink, but I’m really tired. I think I’ll just head on upstairs.”


“No,” she says, “please sit with me and tell me about your evening. I can’t sleep. Too much coffee with dinner.”


Yikes! If I get too close to her I know I’ll be betrayed by either my breath or my glassy eyes. So I pretend I’m choking and run up the stairs and into the bathroom, grab my toothbrush and, brushing furiously, attempt to erase the damning evidence of my earlier partying. As long as she doesn’t turn on any lights, the eyes should be okay. But I’m not taking chances in that department either.


I go back downstairs to find Pink looking concerned. “Are you okay?” she asks me.


“Sure,” I say. “Peanut got caught in my throat.” Peanut? Really? I can’t come up with a better cover than that?


“Sit,” she says, not catching on to the oddity of what I just said. She pats her hand on the couch right beside her. Casually, I walk over and sit down. She’s on me in a minute, hugging me and telling me how much she cares about me. What gives? Women are so emotional. I can’t figure them out. Then she sits up and gives me the once over.


“It’s midnight, Blue,” she says. “Why are you wearing your Ray-Bans?”


I laugh and take them off, stashing them in my shirt pocket.


“So how’s Kayla?” she asks. She always wants to know about my girlfriend.


“Fine. But I think she may be getting too serious.” Oops. I shouldn’t have said that last part. It will give her an in. And here it comes.


“Oh, I understand. She wants you to have sex and you’re not ready. If there’s anything you want to know, you can ask me. You know that, right?”


I about slide off the couch to keep from laughing. “That’s not what I meant,” I say, taking great pains to maintain my composure. She obviously doesn’t realize that we’re not playing video games when we hook up.


“Then what is it?” she says, cocking her head in that way she does.


And just as fast I think of an out. “It’s kind of a guy thing, Sis. I think I’ll talk to Dad about it.”


She nods knowingly although I have no idea what she thinks I mean. I’m really tired. The last thing I feel like doing is talking about Kayla or our sex life with my older sister. Don’t get me wrong, Pink and I are five by five, it’s just that sometimes she still treats me like a kid.


And by my real age, I suppose I am. But I’ve been pretending to be older for so long now, that it riles me up to be treated like a mere youth.


“I can see you’re beat, Blue. Go on to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”


“Thanks Sis,” I say, although I’m not sure what I’m thanking her for. I stand up and almost lose my balance. Now, that would be a dead giveaway, wouldn’t it? I manage to catch myself before she notices and walk quietly up the stairs. Not that I care if I wake up Dad. He would laugh and give me high fives for scoring both sex and drugs, most likely. Oh well, morning will come early and with it the need for the little grey cells to function properly.


I flop across my bed fully clothed, too exhausted and out-of-it to remove them.

Okay, I’m back


After giving much thought to whether my writing even deserves to see the light of day, I decided that I would throw caution to the wind and do it anyway.

If no one like what I write, so be it. There’s this need in me to let out all the stuff my brain makes up on a daily basis. I don’t own a film company, so writing will have to suffice.

So I created my own fantasy world and populated it with my own people. Witches and warlocks attempting to live amongst the regular folk. It’s a learning curve but they still get to have a little fun as there are always stronger and far more nasty creatures around us than we know.

I’ve personally met some of them.

Just kidding … or am I?

So I’m something like three generations into the whole Rags to Witches saga, which started with nice girl meets nice boy on a remote island. Lots of things happen, mostly involving confusing romantic situations, because hey, I’m a romantic at heart.

Keep in mind, please, that when I say I’m on my “seventh” book in the saga, that by no means do I mean that I’ve completed, edited, etc. It means that it’s what I do. I get up in the morning and I write. And I’ve written myself through a couple generations now.

I’ll start posting my latest. It’s different than the others. It’s a little edgier than my previous stuff. And it’s in first person, something I’ve never tried before.

Blue is the son of Lee, the main character of the original Rags to Witches. He’s all grown up now. Well, he’s 16 pretending to be 20. And he and his sister are both far more clever than their parents. In fact, Blue has been running circles around them for years.

It’s just a fantasy, folks. The mind is a scary thing to reveal.