Disco Witches of Fire Island: A Novel

by Blair Fell

Overview

In the late 1980s, a coven of queer witches on New York's Fire Island strives to protect a young man facing a devastating tragedy.

A gripping novel of magic, romance, and hope—perfect for fans of The House in the Cerulean Sea, the Tales of the City series, and Red, White, and Royal Blue.

It’s 1989, and Joe Agabian and his best friend Ronnie set out to spend their first summer working in the hedonistic gay paradise of Fire Island Pines. Joe is desperate to let loose and finally move beyond the heartbreak of having lost his boyfriend to the HIV/AIDS epidemic.

The two friends are quickly taken in by a pair of quirky, older house cleaners. But something seems off, and Joe starts to suspect the two older men of being up to something otherworldly. In truth, Howie and Lenny are members of a secret disco witch coven tasked with protecting the island—and young men like Joe—from the relentless tragedies ravaging their community. The only problem is, having lost too many of their fellow witches to the epidemic, the coven’s protective powers have been seriously damaged.

Unaware of all the mystical shenanigans going on, Joe starts to fall for the super-cute bisexual ferryman who just happens to have webbed feet and an unusual ability to hold his breath underwater. But Joe’s longing to find love is tripped up by his own troublesome past as well as the lure of a mysterious hunk he keeps seeing around the island—a man Howie and Lenny warn may be a harbinger of impending doom.

The Disco Witches need to find help—fast—if they’re to save Joe and the island from the Great Darkness. But how? Fans of queer romances with a dash of fantasy will fall in love with this stunning novel of community, love, sex, magic, and hope in desperate times.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9798892420341
Publisher:	CROOKED LANE BOOKS
Publication date:	05/06/2025
Pages:	352
Sales rank:	5,303
Product dimensions:	5.50(w) x 8.25(h) x (d)

About the Author

Blair Fell is the author of The Sign for Home, which was long-listed for the Center for Fiction’s First Book prize, was the winner of the Doris Lippman Prize, and was selected both as an Indies Introduce and Indies Next pick. He’s written dozens of plays that have been performed all over NYC’s downtown as well as in cities across the country and around the world. His TV work as a writer includes Queer as Folk (Showtime) and California Connected (public TV). His first-person essays have appeared in Out Magazine, NY Daily News, Huffington Post, and more. He’s had myriad loving relationships, lives in New York City, and, along with writing, works as an ASL interpreter. He’s also been an actor, director, and producer — and was once a bartender for the summer on Fire Island, an experience that greatly informed this novel.

Read an Excerpt

PROLOGUE

“Nothing deadens magic like the day-to-day onslaught of unrelenting grief.”
Disco Witch Manifesto #134

Fire Island Pines
May 3rd, 1989 . . . early morning

As Howie Fishbein searched the drizzly Great South Bay, his headphones blasted Sylvester’s “You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real).” Flames of long silver hair whipped his weathered face, while his velvet bathrobe, the color of thick raspberry jam, billowed in the wind behind him. From a distance it appeared as if the island was bleeding.

There had been several omens indicating “a being of significance” would be arriving by water. What exactly the significance was, he did not know.

“We’ll just have to wait,” Howie said to a passing double-crested cormorant he thought might very well be the reincarnation of one of his many dead friends. “It’s all we can do.”

***

ONE

“When stuck in her blues, a Disco Witch can always boo gie to another part of the dance floor.”
Disco Witch Manifesto #23

The Ferry
May 3rd, 1989 . . . later

Where the hell is it? Excited by the prospect of crossing the Great South Bay for the very first time, Joe Agabian was struggling to see Fire Island through the ferry’s rain-splattered window. It seemed as if the universe had purposely employed the fog and drizzle (and the scratched plexiglass window) to hide his past and future under a thick veil of secrecy.

He pulled the first mixtape Elliot had ever made for him from his backpack and inserted the well-worn cassette into his Sony Walkman. It was nearly four years ago when Joe first noticed his future lover sitting in those red banquettes upstairs at Woody’s Bar in Philly. When Elliot looked over at Joe, it was as if a thousand blue-green dragonflies had swarmed his young heart. Elliot had sandy brown hair, shining hazel eyes, and a strong (but not showy) body— a result of playing baseball as a teenager. And then there was his strong, resonant voice which had launched a thousand hours of smart, funny banter. Elliot cared about the poor, hated Reagan, and worshiped Fleetwood Mac. He was the one Joe had been waiting for his whole life.

Then the bad news . . .

“It’ll be a challenge,” Elliot warned after explaining that he had recently tested positive for the HIV virus. “You sure you’re up for it?”

“I’m in love with you,” Joe said, “and that’s all that matters.”

The cassette sleeve bore the handwritten title Mixtape 1: Love Songs. Joe could still feel Elliot’s touch in the scrawl of the fine-tip blue marker. He had made a total of seven mixtapes for Joe during their relationship. Six had been lost to moves, mechanical accidents, or the flood in Joe’s mother’s basement the previous winter—which had also destroyed most of his and Elliot’s photos together. Mixtape 1 was the only cassette left and Joe cherished it more than any other object in his life. It would be the perfect soundtrack for laying eyes on Fire Island for the first time.

He pressed play. Suddenly, the percussive jolt of Peter Gabriel’s “Kiss of Life” jackhammered against the fog.