My name is Kestrel. Kestrel Murphy. Never call me Susan. Who ever heard of a witch named Susan? A year ago, I was on the white-magic side. Lately, I've been leaning toward the black. I blame the universe. What's the point in being a nice little white witch in the universe I've got? If I could choose my own universe, I'd be a white witch in it. But black makes a lot more sense in this universe. Not that I'm complaining. A witch never complains. But if I did, I'd have a lot to complain about. For Richard Milhous Nixon High. What's a teen witch to do when she's stuck in the most unmagical high school in the universe? Create her own "majix." Take notes. And above all, avoid nasty classmates, heartless grown-ups and boys who may prove a little too distracting for a serious teen witch to handle….
Author
I was born on October 19th, 1947 in the hospital at March Air Force Base just outside Riverside, California. My father, Norman, was a career sergeant who'd served as an aircraft mechanic and infantryman in the Philippines campaign early in the war and was taken prisoner on Bataan. My mother, Agnes, was a nurse at the hospital where he was sent to recuperate after the war was over. Until I was fifteen, I lived on or near a number of Air Force bases in this country and in Germany. My sister, Patricia, was born in 1950 at Travis AFB. Until I was six, I wanted to be a fireman. Between six and twelve, I wanted to be a paleontologist. When I was twelve, I decided I wanted to be a writer. I still haven't outgrown that. I made some occasional stabs at writing and submitting manuscripts in my twenties and thirties. When I turned forty-seven, I decided to start writing things more regularly. I've been doing so ever since.
