"Rochelle" Will Return

Sorry guys - it's a holiday weekend and I'm making the most of the extra free time.  But I promise our favorite witch will return ASAP!!!


Rochelle ~ The First One Down

Previously ~ History Lessons

Eva Mendes as "Isabella Molina"
Isabella spent the night again, but this time, they only kissed.  Rochelle still wasn't sure how she felt about this woman, but she was glad they'd met.  Her full name was Isabella Consuela Molina, she was a 21-year-old chemistry major, and she had two younger siblings, boy and girl twins named Carlos and Catalina.  Isabella tended bar to pay bills (and because she liked the scene), but she planned to intern with a perfumery in the spring.  She wasn't looking forward to the 45-minute commute, but she needed the experience.

Rochelle suddenly realized Isabella's appeal; she was the first person to be openly attracted to Rochelle.  At Rochelle's old school, she'd heard numerous whispers and rumors about boys liking her but not wanting to go out with her for fear of their parents.  One time in the cafeteria she'd overheard someone pointing her out.  There goes the hot one...how come she hangs out with the Bitches of Eastwick?

She'd ignored it, of course, not bothering to turn to see who spoke.  There was no point.  It wasn't going to lead to anything.  It was such a strange feeling, being depressed by a compliment.

But Isabella...Isabella's eyes had this way of warming upon her.  She gave compliments freely, and seemed genuinely interested in Rochelle as a person, her past, her future, likes, and dislikes.  She noticed how Rochelle picked the red bell peppers from her fajitas, that she always drank her tequila straight, and that her hair smelled of coconut and hibiscus.

And then there was Isabella herself, with her sunny optimism and casual touch.  Rochelle wasn't sure what it was about her that was so alluring but....

It was just all so new.


The Reminder to Chatter

Some of you are new here, and some of you have been here and are probably wondering where some of your favorite stuff has gone. The truth is...if you don't chatter, I lose motivation to finish.  I can see that people are visiting this page, but I can't tell if they're reading and if they're reading, I can't tell if they are enjoy.  You got chat with me, boos, otherwise I don't know what's going on.  And I don't get better as a writer.


Rochelle ~ History Lessons

Previously ~ Bruja

Rochelle spent the day in a quiet panic, tuning out her professors and only pretending take notes as she racked her brain.  She hadn't told any of those basic bitches she used to roll with about moving out here.  Her parents most likely hadn't told them either; in fact, Rochelle's father had been particularly relieved once she told him she was friends with them anymore.  She didn't have a Twitter or Facebook or even an Instagram account.  There was absolutely no way anyone down here could know she was ever into witchcraft.

And yet....

Maybe it wasn't directed at me.  I was drunk, I was horny, I was apparently seducing a bartender...maybe I just overheard someone else's convo and made it about me.  But it can't be about me.  No one down here knows about me.

"Rochelle Davis?"

Her head snapped towards the voice; she spied Professor Morales coming down the hall towards her, giving a friendly wave.

"How you doin'?" he greeted warmly.

"Great," she replied, looking around herself slightly bewildered. Why was he talking to her?  Had she already developed a reputation for being a slut?

Rochelle ~ Bruja

Previously ~ Solo, a Prologue

School started the next morning at 9:30, so Rochelle got up at 7:00 and went for a run on the beach.  It was peaceful, quiet; most of her neighbors were still asleep.  She could hear her sneakers crunch into the sand as the waves gently lapped at the shore.

She got back to her apartment by 8:00, showered, and had a protein-rich shake for breakfast.  She didn't bother to check her phone; only her parents every contacted her these days and she wasn't into the whole social media thing.  By 9:00 she was on the road to her first class, some History 101 garbage she couldn't care less about.

Until she saw her professor, who was young, Mexican, and hot.

"I'm seeing a lot of new faces this semester," Professor Diego Morales greeted.  He was dressed casually, a plain shirt and jeans.  He strolled back and forth before the blackboard, calmly twirling a piece of chalk in his hand.  "How many of you are from out town?"

More than half the class raised their hands.

"Bienvenido a Puerto Libre," he nodded, flashing a perfect white smile.  "How many of you bothered to check out the history of the town?"

No hands went up, causing him to chuckle.

Rochelle ~ Solo, a Prologue

Previously ~ Rochelle

The first thing Rochelle Davis noticed about starting college was her desire to be alone.

In high school, the need for friendship and social validation was like an addiction; it overrode one's sensibilities and landed them into trouble time and again.  Why else would she have gotten mixed up in that mess with her now-dissolved coven?

Nancy.  Bonnie.  Sarah.

That bitch.

Nancy was a psycho who deserved to be stripped of her powers and left to rot in a psych ward.  That was an inarguable fact.  That out-of-control bitch had needed to be put down. But Bonnie's biggest sin was to rightly rejoice in regaining her beauty, while Rochelle's biggest sin had been to get one over on that racist blonde bitch.  They hadn't deserved to be bound, certainly not by some self-righteous bitch.

Sarah Bailey was precisely the reason Rochelle had applied to a college in another state, had implemented a no-friends rule, and gotten a "Trust No Bitch" tattoo on the back of her neck.  She was down for drinking buddies.  She was open to a friends with benefits situation.  But never, ever again was she going to rely on a chick.

Her brand new silver SUV glinted under the Texas sun as she drove along the Gulf of Mexico blastibg, "Can't Truss 'Em" off the Empire soundtrack.  While she typically wasn't here for anti-female hip hop, the lyrics just happened to fit her mood.

She'd chosen Azul College for multiple reasons: 1) it was in Texas, far, far away from home.  2) It was cheap, so her daddy wouldn't bitch even though he was rich enough to send her to Harvard.  3) The town of  Puerto Libre was made up of mostly brown folks, so no more of that "fly in the buttermilk" nonsense.  4) Housing was cheap; she was renting a spacious villa on a beach without needing any roommates save for her new cat, Aster.  5) A new town meant she could reinvent herself.  Gone were the summer dresses, the hemp necklaces, the sandals, and the misguided Wiccan-hippy-from-Cali mentality.  Rochelle now sported tight pants and crop tops, showing off her magnificent swimmer's physique.

She arrived at her villa early in the afternoon; along with her furniture, a package from Ginger & Liz was waiting for her.  Tonight, she was going enjoy a facial mask while ordering takeout and smearing black vegan polish all over nails.  "Me time" was Rochelle's new addiction; after that debacle with her coven, she'd chosen binge-watching over spending time with her former friends.  Bonnie hadn't taken too kindly to being shut out at first, but with her sexy new bod, she'd found replacement company in no time.

Unpacking didn't take long; Rochelle had thrown out all her witchcraft shit last year - all her bells, books, and candles.  Every charm and trinket, every bottle of oil and stick of incense.  It had been a detox of sorts; as much she did miss being able to channel great magic, it was great to let all that go.  With power came responsibility, and Rochelle wasn't trying to be responsible for anyone but herself and her baby boo.

Speaking of Aster, the mini-panther was ecstatic to finally be out of the car and free to run about his new home, exploring his new rooms and enjoying a late lunch.  Rochelle ordered a pizza, turned on some Lyrica Anderson, slipped into a mini-bathrobe and slathered a facial mask over her face.

She paused halfway through the mask mask, marveling her brown skin and eyes, gorgeous full lips, and long honey-colored curls tumbling down her shoulders.  She'd had to limit herself for years to appease other people; when around Nancy, she and Bonnie had both pretended they didn't have money, shoplifting things they could easily pay for.  When around Bonnie, Rochelle had to pretend she didn't have flawless skin.  And when walking around with her entire coven, Rochelle had had to constantly pretend she wasn't the most beautiful out of the bunch.

That's how it was when one lived in a group.  You had to tone yourself down, pretend you were less than what you actually were.  Well now, she was no longer part of a group.  No more fragile egos to contend with, no more posing as "less than."

"I'm going to have a great freshman year," Rochelle vowed aloud, then proceeded to finish applying her mask.

Next ~ Bruja


Rachel True as "Rochelle"
A bored rich girl and former witch, Rochelle leaves her hometown of Los Angeles to go to a small college in a coastal Texan town.  Although technically robbed of her powers, Rochelle decides to embrace in her non-magical freedom, until the long-dead threaten the quiet town of Puerto Libre.

This is fic is AU; it takes place present-day, as opposed to the 1990s.

Next ~ Solo, a Prologue