Confessions of a Middle Aged Dragon Queen (Magic and Mayhem Midlife Mayhem)
Chapter 1
Friends are like bras: close to your heart, there for support, and when you least expect it, they poke you in the boob.
“Well, hello, Beautiful. Get on in here. You sure are a sight for sore eyes.”
“Well, shit, Martha. I need to come see you more often.” Zelda's grin was so bright that it made the entrance of Marvelous Martha’s Brew House your shop isn’t absolutely nucking futs? Martha, you are…”
“I am brilliant. Moreover, I am right, because my hoo-ha is strong, sweet, and layered with history! She is…"
And that was as far as I got before Zelda, the next Witch in line to be the Baba Yaga—a title bestowed upon the one and only Witch strong enough and wise enough to lead all the other Witches—burst out laughing.
Check that—cackling. She was guffawing with such gusto that tears were already forming in her emerald eyes.
Of course, I joined in. How could I not?
After all, it had been the best meet-up-with-one-of-my-bestest-friends-in-the-whole-world sparring match smackdown in decades.
(Hey! We all love in different ways. Don’t judge us.
We have fun, and baby, that is one of the spices of life. Maybe the most important one.)
It was something Zelda and I had been doing since the first time she showed up in Dragoon Bootay, Texas (I promise to explain the name later).
There she was, bold as bold could be, announcing that she had come to give the Magic protecting our town from prying eyes a kick in the keister, a boost in the bustier, a fire under the derriere –an abracadabra, alakazam, shazam, and sim sala bim in the Spell, so to speak.
Before that, the honor or duty or chore…
(I never knew what she thought of it because we rarely conversed. It was more of a she bitched about her boyfriend, Fabio, and I listened, nodded, and said, “Mhm,” at the appropriate times.)
So I truly had no clue what Carol thought of keeping the only three living Dragon Queens in the world –Maeve, Maisie, and me –hidden for those who wanted our heads on a pike, our scales made into necklaces they could wear around their necks as trophies, and our wings hanging over the entrance of whatever hole in the ground they called home.
I knew she appreciated that there were three hundred and thirty-two other people – all Magical Beings – who called Dragoon Bootay home.
She said that everyone in the Paranormal Community gave off residual Magic, and that made keeping the handy-dandy Magical Spell that made our little slice of Heaven look like a barren wasteland in the middle of the Chihuahuan Desert to anyone non-Magical easier to maintain.
As the story I was told pretty much every day of my life until my parents went to the Heavens with the Ancestors goes, when dear old dad and sweet Momma June got hitched, my mother, aka Momma June in case you weren’t keeping up, had a dream on their Mating Night in which she was told by none other Fate that she and Pops, aka Hank Dellencourt would have three wonderful daughters –all of which would be the very Dragon Queens the rest of the Magical World, and I guess all the other Realms too) thought were gone never to return.
When mom woke, she padded to the kitchen in her favorite fluffy slippers only to find Fate –in the flesh, not in a dream –in the middle of that very room.
Six feet tall with a set of breasts that made the Angels –and later, Hugh Hefner –weep, the most beautiful woman Momma June had ever laid eyes on was standing with her hip cocked against the kitchen counter, drinking coffee out of daddy’s favorite mug.
Wearing army fatigues and combat boots that made her look like a Drill Sergeant Bratz Doll, Momma never forgot to mention that Fate’s attire didn’t match her femininity one iota.
I believe the saying she used was, ‘it was polar opposites, like sending a snowman to Hell for a tall glass of sweet tea’.
Momma June always did have a way with words.
Oh, and the strange but stunning hits didn’t stop there.
Framing the Omnipotent Being’s gorgeous face was the thickest, shiniest mane of curly rainbow colored hair ever thought into existence by The Powers That Be, her ebony skin was as dark as night with the splendor and mystery that make it so special and her eyes were the sparkling silver of the stars in that night sky, twinkling as if to say, “Oh, if you only knew what I was thinking…”.
She was unlike any other being Momma June had ever laid eyes on —and at that point in time, my wonderful mother, God bless her heart, was four hundred and forty-four years old and had been around the world more times and visited more spectacular places than even she could recall.
Before the new and reigning matriarch of the Dellencourt Clan could so much as nod, Fate set her mug on the counter, stood up straight, and closed the distance between them in less than the blink of an eye.
Stopping far enough away that my mother wouldn’t have to crane her neck from her five-foot-nothing eight but close enough that not only her words, but their gravity could be heard, felt, and understood, she explained, “The dream you had last night was the truth, and that’s why I’m here.
I need to be sure you understand. Your Mating with Hank is blessed by the Goddess and the Universe.
Together, you will have three daughters.
They will all be of Royal blood. They will be. ..”
“You can’t be… You mean…? But we’re not…”
Nodding her head, Fate answered the question Momma June hadn’t been able to finish. “Yes, all three girls will be Queen Dragons even though you and Hank are not Royals.”
“But Dragon Queens no longer…”
“No, they do exist– they were never really gone.”
“But…”