Hey Guys,
Just wanted to announce that Bluedawn has just been published!
Here is the first chapter of Bluedawn. It is a self-contained novel that can be read alone, separate from Bluehour if so desired.
CHAPTER ONE
Your next encounter will
be with the Sirens, who bewitch every man that approaches them… For with the
music of their song the Sirens cast their spell upon him, as they sit there in
a meadow piled high with the moldering skeletons of men, whose withered skin
still hangs upon their bones. –CIRCE TO ODYSSEUS, THE ODYSSEY, BOOK XII
“What took you guys so long?” I
tried to calm myself as I stood in the circular driveway beside our motorhome
watching my mother, Josette Bellerose. She was getting out of her cousins’ 57 black
Ford Custom 300 that reminded me of a car you would see in a mafia film.
Mom tossed her long golden hair over
one thin shoulder and winked at me playfully. “Missed you too, Hailes.”
I rolled my eyes. Dad and I were
already loading the motorhome and she was supposed to be home yesterday to
help. But as usual she had disappeared off somewhere with her teenage French
relatives for the past week. All she said was that they were exchange students
at Santa Monica High School in Los Angeles and she had to look after them from
time to time.
Dad didn’t seem to mind that she was
late though. He kissed her hard on the mouth as her five gorgeous cousins got
out of the car.
“Jim,” Mom whispered. “I missed you.”
She giggled for a second as he dipped her like they were ballroom dancing.
“Oh, please,” Laurent said shaking his
head at my parents’ overt affection while he opened the trunk of their pristine
black car and took out my mother’s suitcase.
If he wasn’t my second cousin, I
wouldn’t mind dating him. Not really, but most people would. He, as well as
Marcel and Pascal, were some of the best looking guys I’d ever seen. Their eyes,
like Mom’s, were an amazing electric blue that reminded me of a tropical ocean
during a lightning storm. The only problem was that their hair was way too long
and they dressed a little strange, mixing 1730’s French attire with modern
designer clothes. In some ways they looked more like rock stars than high
school students.
Dad let go of Mom and took her suitcase
from Laurent. “Good to see you,” Dad said as he patted him on the back.
Laurent flinched and backed away. But
my father didn’t seem to notice. He just turned to gorgeous Marine who was
tucking and then stabbing a loose strand of long black hair back into
Brigitte’s bun with a pearl stick pin.
“How was Josette?” he asked the girls.
“Josette was naughty,” Brigitte
laughed. Her voice was so hypnotic that it almost sounded musical. “She ate way
too much and swam all night.”
Dad crossed his arms over his chest and
looked at Mom who was purposely ignoring him as she kissed me on both sides of
my cheeks and carried her suitcase with ease up the steps of the motorhome. She
stopped on the last step and turned. “Not true.” Her voice was higher pitched
than Brigitte’s, but just as lovely. “I made all the arrangements with the
principal and his staff. Now you kiddies can rule the school.” A spark of
mischief gleamed in her eyes.
“She’s telling the truth,” Marcel
interjected as he tossed something that looked almost like a tiny sand crab in
his mouth. The shell crunched as he chewed. And then I remembered that was
another odd thing about my mother’s family. French people must have weird taste
in food, I reasoned. At least they did.
“Hurry up,” Pascal called as he waved
his cousins back in the car.
“We have to make it back in time for that dreadful
orientation to establish our presence at our new school.”
“He’s right,” Mom said to the others.
“The principal expects you to go.”
“Have fun on your camping trip,” Marine
called to us as she blew kisses and then got into the car with her cousins.
“Be safe,” they all called at once. “Don’t
talk to strangers.”
That confused me when they did that.
Sometimes it seemed as if they were almost of one mind the way they spoke in
unison. Even my mother’s lips moved with theirs.
We all waved and they blew too many
kisses as they peeled out onto the street and sped away like devils.
Dad shook his head as he walked over to
the front porch and picked up some of the stuff we had piled by the door for
the trip. “Those crazy kids,” he said as he stepped into the motorhome.
My mother had her suitcase open on the
kitchen table. It was overfilled with clothes.
“Do you really need all this
stuff?” I asked as I hung up Mom’s evening dresses in the closet.
Dad set down her gigantic makeup
box. “What would Josette Bellerose do without her fancy adornments?” He teased.
“All right, enough guys,” she
warned light heartedly from the kitchen. She was great at concealing her French
accent. Like her cousins, most of the time, she sounded very American. “At
least I’m not bringing that rhinestone studded bathing suit I wore last time we
camped at the beach.”
“What’s this?” Dad asked as he
picked up a silver chain with shells and sea stones.
“That’s for my waist.” She peaked
around the kitchen divider at Dad who was standing next to her vanity table.
“Oooh, sassy,” he chuckled as he
walked over to her and clasped the ornamentations just above her hips.
She brushed her long golden hair
out of her pretty face as she giggled at his touch the way some teenage girls at
my high school acted when they had a new boyfriend. Her hands threaded around
his big, hulking body.
“Okay, no more public displays of
affection please.” I rolled my eyes wondering if I would ever find the kind of
love they had. Most boys I found annoying, pimply, and shallow. And the few
times that I was interested in a guy, he wasn’t interested in me.
I think I was the only almost
eighteen-year-old alive who had never even kissed a boy. If only I had been
blessed with thick, luxurious golden hair and stunning looks like Mom, but
instead I was plain with straggly brown locks like Dad that tangled up in the
wind.
Finally, we got the motorhome
organized. Dad and Mom took the two front seats and I lay down in the back reading
from my e-reader for a while. Once I got bored with Wuthering Heights, I called my friends before joining Mom and Dad
behind their seats on the bench that ran across the wall and pulled out into a
bed.
For the most part, the coastal drive
from our Laguna home to Carlsbad was relatively short. We stopped once at a
rest spot to check a rattling sound on the car we were towing behind the
motorhome and to buy candy bars. Most of the travels were uneventful. For much
of the ride, I stared out the window watching the ocean and palm trees whiz by
as I chatted with Dad.
But on the freeway, Mom sang the
whole time which always put me in a sort of hypnotic state making the trip pass
quicker. Dad and I joined in occasionally too. As a family, we were geeky in
that way. Though Mom had a beautiful voice, Dad and I were severely lacking in
the musical department. I was just glad none of my friends were with us to see
how goofy we were.
When we pulled into the woods at the
campground, my parents discussed payment and park rules for the site at the
ranger’s booth and chatted with him through the motorhome window. I was anxious
to start our day, so I rushed over to the adjacent mini-market for some
sunscreen. I knew they could go on and on with their jibber-jabber.
As I jogged over through the
clearing, tiny stones kept getting in my sandals. How frustrating. I tried to
ignore the irritation, biting my lip hard as I ran. But once the saturation
level became unbearable, I stopped to shake the darn things out.
That’s when it happened. When I
stood back up from shaking out the stones, I saw a crazy good looking boy. This
sort of thing NEVER happened to me. My body felt like it was on fire. He looked
familiar somehow, but I couldn’t place where I had seen him before.
He and his two friends were walking
out of the log cabin store. I hardly noticed the other two boys because the one
with dark hair caught my attention and made me feel all out of whack. He was a
little different. When he walked, he had a slight limp.
He was gorgeous, but as I looked
closer, I realized he was staring at me with a sinister gleam in his green
eyes. Chills ran up my spine. What was I thinking? I wondered what I could have
done to illicit such a glare. Sometimes boys were mean to me because of my
weight. Was that it? Or was it something else?
But before I could turn away, one
of the other boys, the shirtless one with sandy blond hair, called over to me,
“Hey, cutie. Come on over so we can suck face.” His lips puckered in a kissing
sound.
Involuntarily, my eyes widened in
surprise. I looked around for a moment to see if he was talking to someone
else. Nope. It must have been me. I was the only one around. What a creep.
Probably making fun of me.
Before I could respond, the guy
with dark hair and the limp grabbed the blond one by the shoulders and threw
him to the ground.
“Idiot,” he yelled. And then he kicked him hard in the ribs.
I gasped and covered my face.
Once I opened my eyes to see what was happening, I saw the dark haired boy
brush his messed up locks off his brow. His expression was intense.
Their other friend who had brown
hair pulled up the blond guy onto his feet. But while he was helping him up,
the dark haired boy punched him once more in the nose. He choked for a moment
on the blood that was now oozing from his nostrils, yet he managed to gain his
balance.
“Come on,” the dark haired boy
said to the other two.
The brown haired guy helped the
blond one walk. He was out of balance, nearly falling over. But they all strode
away toward the campsites. Then, to make the circumstances even stranger, the
dark haired guy looked back over his shoulder and smiled at me.
What the hell! My face must have
turned as red as a tomato. I was so confused. I didn’t know what to make of the
whole situation.
At once, I just turned around and
ran back to our motorhome. Oh, my! My heart was beating a mile a minute.
“Are you okay?” Mom asked when I
stepped back into our vehicle.
“I’m fine,” I breathed, trying to
act normal. My mind was all mixed up.
“Your face is flushed.” Her blue
eyes were laced with concern.
Dad looked back at me as he took
the ticket through the window from the park ranger. “You look like you saw a
ghost.” He laughed.
He turned back to the man. “Thanks
for your help.”
“You all be careful, now,” the
ranger responded through the booth window. “Don’t walk outside alone at night.
Some strange business has been going on here. Some teenagers were reported
missing.” His voice was hesitant, but Mom and Dad were focused on me now, so
they didn’t hear him.
“Okay, bye, Ranger Mike.” Dad
pulled the motorhome forward along a forest of trees toward the campsites that
nestled within the outer edges. The car tow swayed a little side to side as we
rolled along the dirt road. I noticed the greying light gave the campground an
ominous look.
Dad was glancing at me in the
rear view mirror. “Did you get something from the store?” He cleared his
throat.
“No.” I blushed probably even
redder. “I’ll go later.”
“What happened?” Mom asked
running her fingers through her long golden locks before twisting them up into
a French knot.
“Nothing.” I was sitting stiffly on
the bench seat that paralleled the side windows. “I just didn’t want to hold
you guys up. It’s your special week and I’m catering to you.”
Mom and Dad laughed. “You don’t
have to do that, Hailey,” Dad said. His eyes were focused ahead now.
“Well, I’m going to,” I responded
adamantly. “Twenty year anniversaries don’t happen every day and I want yours
to be memorable.” I planned this trip just for them. Mom’s favorite place was
the ocean and Dad found every place annoying so it didn’t make a difference
where we went.
“You’re a keeper, Hailes.” Dad
parked the motorhome in campsite number 12. “Here we are,” he said cheerily as
he pulled on the security brake.
Mom unbuckled her seatbelt and almost
glided, as was her way, over to the vanity mirror to put on fresh lipstick and
powder her face. “So what’s the plan for today?” she called out.
“It’s almost dinner time. I
thought I’d take you guys to that fish and chips restaurant by the wharf.”
Mom’s blue eyes lit up. She loved
seafood, especially raw. “That sounds fantastic.” She blushed a little.
Dad ran his fingers through his
brown shaggy hair. “I’ll get the car ready.” His voice sounded a little grumpy.
“Why don’t we find some wood for
the fire pit so we don’t have to get it later?” I suggested to Mom.
She laughed. “Hope I don’t break
a nail.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you do,
I’ll super glue it back on.” My voice was sarcastic.
“Oh, please,” she snorted as she
examined the glitter polish on her naturally long nails.
After we walked outside and
examined the campsite, Dad unhitched the car, while Mom and I gathered sticks
and branches in the forest behind the campsite for the fire pit. Even though it
was still light outside, the woods were dim and eerie. There were some used
cigarette butts on the ground and a man’s wallet.
My eyes widened. “Look at this.”
I motioned Mom over to me.
She sort of sauntered over with
her tote bag filled with sticks.
“What is it, chérie?” She looked
distracted. Her eyes were directed upwards looking into the high reaches of an
oak tree.
“No not up there—here.” I pointed
at the ground.
Glancing down, she picked up the
wallet absent mindedly. “A man’s wallet, Hailes. What’s the big deal? You look
frightened.”
I bit the side of my cheek. “It
just looks like someone was hanging around in here and left in a rush.”
She opened the wallet and looked
through it. Her eyes narrowed.
“Fifty four dollars and a golf pass.”
“Is there an I.D.?”
“No.” She shook her head and glanced
around. “Look over there.”
I followed the direction of her
pointer finger to a boulder several feet away. “Oh!”
We both walked over to the large
rock.
“A Peter Segal bikini top!” Mom picked
a garment up off the boulder by her nail. Her jaw was clenched and her nostrils
flared.
“There’s blood on it,” I said in
a whisper.
She threw the thing down as if
grossed out.
I examined the boulder more
closely and saw wet blood that had splattered against the other side of the
rock.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Mom
mumbled as she examined it. “Some girl probably just had her period.”
I scoffed and then shook my head.
“And splattered it against a rock?”
“Did you hear that?” I asked
suddenly.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
My body tensed. “Whispers.” I
looked around through the trees.
“No. I didn’t hear anything.” Her
thoughts seemed distant. And then in the dim light of the forest she started to
sing softly. It was a gentle lullaby and under the circumstances totally out of
place. Though I could never figure her out entirely, I think she sang like that
to calm herself or maybe to calm me.
Even though I was used to her
unusual behaviors, I found myself lost in her melody. The sounds were so soft
and entrancing. For a moment, I felt like I was floating in the clouds.
When she stopped singing, I felt
suddenly irritated. “Let’s go,” I snapped as I pulled Mom by the arm.
She looked agitated now too as I
led her through the trees back to the camp.
Dad turned to us with a wrench in
his hand. “The car is ready to go,” he said in a proud voice. A wind coming off
the ocean was blowing through his shaggy brown hair.
“We found a wallet in the woods
and Hailey is going bonkers,” Mom sang the words teasingly.
“Where’s the money?” Dad chuckled
as he walked over to the picnic table to set his wrench down.
Now Mom smiled playfully. “There
was fifty four dollars in it.” Her hand was on one hip.
Then a thought struck me. “Where
is it?” I demanded as I glanced at the tote bag of sticks that rested over her
shoulder.
“Oops,” she rolled her eyes. “I
dropped it.”
I got the feeling she left it in
the forest on purpose.
“We could use that money for
dinner,” Dad joked. “Especially with the way you eat, Jo.”
I ignored his play. “We should at
least return it to the park ranger,” I said sternly. “Somebody could be looking
for it. Maybe even the police.”
“I’ll go back and get it,” Mom
suggested.
My eyes widened. “No way!”
Dad was shaking his head now.
“Women and their dramatics.” He liked to play the chauvinist to get us riled.
But this time we hardly paid attention. “I’ll get it.”
“No, Dad. Stay here.” I looked at
him, but he was already stepping into the woods.
I chased after him. “It’s over by
that boulder,” I said pointing through the trees.
“I don’t see anything,” He
murmured as he looked around on the ground.
“That’s strange. It’s not here.”
I looked over by the rock. “There was a bikini top here too, but it’s gone.”
Dirt covered the blood on the boulder now as if someone had taken a handful
from the ground and thrown it against the wetness to hide the mess.
I walked back over to where we
saw the cigarette butts, but they were gone too. “This is so weird, Dad.”
“What are you upset about?” he
asked.
“It’s nothing.” I sighed. “Let’s
get out of here.”
But just as we turned to leave, I
heard the sounds of footsteps advancing toward us, crunching the fallen leaves
upon the ground with every step. “Hey, there,” a masculine voice called through
the trees.
Dad and I stopped and turned to
look. The three boys I saw at the market were approaching through a cluster of
tall pines.
