Roxanne Rhoads
Welcome to Roxanne's Realm, the home of author, book publicist, mixed media crafter, and lover of all things spooky- Roxanne Rhoads.
Thursday, August 04, 2022
Hidden By The Dark by J.C. Moore #Thriller #Horror
Monday, July 25, 2022
Modern Witchcraft with the Greek Gods: History, Insights & Magickal Practice
I have a guest contribution, "Personal Insights with Ariadne", in the book:
Modern Witchcraft with the Greek Gods: History, Insights & Magickal Practice
From Zeus and Hephaestus to Hades and Persephone, this book reveals the origins of nearly thirty Greek gods and goddesses, how they've been worshipped across the centuries, and how you can work with them in your own practice.
Jason Mankey and Astrea Taylor introduce you to the gods one by one, presenting their history, unique correspondences, and a ritual or spell for connecting with them.
You'll also enjoy insightful contributions from members of the Witchcraft community who actively work with these deities.
Modern Witchcraft with the Greek Gods features other mythological figures as well, such as the Titans and Primordial Forces, and it explores the spell and ritual structures of ancient times. Everything you want to know about Greek gods and how to call upon them today is in this book.
It will be released on December 8 but is available for pre-order at all major retailers
#GreekGods #ModernWitchcraft #Ariadne
Friday, July 22, 2022
Free Book Friday Bridging the Gap – Reducing Gender Bias in the Workplace by Alexandra McGroarty #FreeBook #KindleFreebie
Bridging the Gap – Reducing Gender Bias in the Workplace by Alexandra McGroarty
Excerpt:
Sometimes, it takes a truly dramatic event to bring the truth to light: we do not have to struggle so hard, and we do not have to struggle alone. I am still learning what it means to have mental health. It is not about a constant state of happiness or complete enlightenment; mental health does not free us from pain, grief, worries, or bad days; it only reframes our thinking about these struggles so that we can learn from the ones that are out of our control and do something about the ones that within our control.
Dealing with my own mental health issues also taught me better how to interact with others. We do not all interact and communicate in the same way. What I need may drive someone else’s triggers; what I dislike doing may be the way they prefer to communicate. I am still in therapy, and I am constantly working on myself. It has taken time, and will continue to take time, to unpack the events of my life, and realign them in a way I can move forward with.
We women stand in a world bursting with opportunity.
There’s not a job out there that we’re forbidden from trying. There’s not a position that we can’t be considered for. There are spoken intentions to place us in positions where decisions are made. In fact, companies, CEOs, politicians, the workforce itself, really seem to want to announce their dedication to the world. “Look, we hire women! We promote women! We listen to women!” We are now able to work full- time and be mothers, too. People absolutely understand that women have babies and want to raise them in addition to having a career.
The COVID-19 Pandemic proved a fact that really needed no proof: that women are on the frontlines when it comes to holding society together, keeping the engines running, and keeping the fires under control.
And yet, somehow, the problems we work so hard to overcome (microaggressions, systemic bias, serious pay inequality, and our shouldering the overwhelming burden of stress and responsibility for unpaid and/or unpromotable work) remain stubbornly in place. Putting women in the workplace is not the problem. Putting them on equal footing with their male counterparts is.
Gender equity begins with equitable hiring – that means hiring men and women for the same amount of money. But it also means that once they are there, both men and women are given the same opportunities. Women must be able to occupy an equivalent number of executive, managerial, team, and departmental roles within the company.
Gender equality means a more peaceful, productive, healthier, wealthier world. Men who accept and promote equitable gender practices are generally healthier and happier), they experience fewer mental health issues, and they have happier life-partners. Societies where men treat all genders as equal are more inclusive and peaceful, both inside their own borders and in relation to other nations.
We are all beautiful in our differentness, and our differentness lets us lean on each other in times of need. Someone else’s puzzle piece can complete your picture. That is what diversity and inclusion are all about.
Thursday, July 14, 2022
Top 10 Witches in Books, TV, and Movies with Maria DeVivo
Excerpt:
I didn’t realize how long we had been out in the clearing of the woods until Tansy’s screaming snapped me back into reality. It was almost like a dream—when you fall asleep into that dream world and your story just picks up in the middle of a scene, yet you have all the memory and knowledge of the world your mind has temporarily created for you. One moment we were walking out into the forest in the purest daylight to gather fresh flowers for the chapel, and in the next instance, it was pitch black and Tansy was pulling hard on my pinafore dress and howling at the top of her lungs for us to run.
“Run, Barbara! Run! Go!” she commanded as I twirled at the edge of the clearing, awestruck at the sight that lay before me—strewn in a circle lay twisted animal parts covered in leaves and muck and blood. Symbols arranged neatly with twigs, flower heads drenched in the crimson sticky blood, and black candles burned to their nubs protruded from the ground. Something about it enthralled me, bewitched me, and I stared hard at the tableau—unafraid and somewhat curious at the peculiarity of it all.
With one final tug of my dress and a shake to my shoulder, I locked eyes with my sister. Her words finally registered in my head, and her urgency struck deep into my soul: Run. Go. Now. We both took off running, my legs swiftly carrying me to presumed safety, my hands still clutching tightly to the cluster of Bellflowers I had previously picked (with no recollection of doing so).
When we finally made it to the edge of the Black Wood, the both of us slumped forward, hands on knees, panting hard for air to fill our lungs back up.
“Did you see it? Did you see it?” Tansy struggled to force the words out.
“Yes, Tansy, I saw!” I answered.
“I… I… I thought we were done with all of that! I thought that was passed us! I thought…”
“As did I. As did I.”
Tansy’s upper body shot up with a sense of awareness. Her torso tensed and stiffened, and her face drew dark and contemplative. She furrowed her brow as if trying to piece some wild puzzle together or connect the dots to some great revelation. I saw it glittering in her soft hazel eyes, like words and images dancing in her mind, yet they were too fast for her to catch and put together. When it dawned on her, it was like a candle flame flickering to life. “Today’s the 20th, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes, why?”
She stepped closer to me and lowered her voice. “It’s been almost three years, Barbara. Almost three years to the day that Martha Corey and the others were hanged in Salem. You know, the last of the trial judgments. Do you think it’s happening again? Do you think what happened over there is now happening here?”
“Hush your mouth, Tansy Wilkins!” I snapped back. “We are God-fearing women of our community. Peace-loving. We reject Satan and all his minions.” I paused after those words. For some reason, it didn’t feel right for me to say them. A creeping feeling of doubt entered my heart, but I pushed it aside. “Don’t you be putting that energy out into the universe,” I continued my admonition. “And for God’s sake, don’t go saying that around anyone else. You know how on edge everyone has been since all that business over there.”
“But Barbara, I’ve heard stories. Been hearing stories…”
“And stories they just are. The same ones I’ve been hearing, too. Nothing but silly ghost tales and monsters under the bed. Now shush, and don’t go putting wood on someone’s fire. Because the last thing we surely need is what happened there to infect us here. It’s still fresh. It’s going to take a little while for that wound to heal.” That much was true! I knew our town of New Haven Harbor would never be able to survive the horrors of Salem.
Her face darkened again at my words. It was obvious she wasn’t fully convinced by what I told her. I knew I wasn’t convinced myself, but I had to say the words to quell my sister’s suspicions. It would be a shame if she had opened herself to the hysteria of our neighboring town. Who knows what influence or bogeymen she might allow in?
Like a pinprick in the back of my mind, I could feel the scene in the clearing calling me—beckoning me to go and investigate. But I ignored it, and instead, I tried to convince my sister nothing nefarious was afoot.“Winnie Gordon told me that two young children went missing over in Salem just last week.
They were playing at the bottom of the ledge where the witches were hanged, and no one has seen them since. Winnie says those little kids must have awakened something because strange things have been happening since then.”
“You know I can’t stand that Winnie Gordon. Never could,” I barked.
Tansy’s eyes went wild. “Barbara, stop that! How could you say that! Winnie has been my best friend since grammar school!”
“And pray tell, why is it that she needed to repeat her studies multiple times? Winnie Gordon is not the smartest of women, now is she? There are at least four, maybe five children in this town who bear the face of her sweet husband Jedidiah Gordon yet do not belong to Winnie herself…”
With a swift shot to the shoulder, Tansy huffed, “Barbara!”
I smirked from the corner of my mouth. “I speak nothing but truth, dear sister. And as for Winnie Gordon, I don’t think she could recognize truth if it slithered its way from between…”
She gasped again at my seeming vulgarity. “Barbara! Enough!”I must admit, I too was taken aback by the images in my mind and the words that formed on my lips. It was no secret that Winnie’s husband was a fine catch for her. A brokered deal among their families to afford the best financial possible outcome for all parties involved. And it was no secret that Jedidiah Gordon was the desire of many of the women in New Haven Harbor, to which he heartily obliged. I envisioned all types of women in our town lying on their backs, receiving the full weight and girth of Jedidiah at once in a passionate ceremony, as if he were shapeshifter who could penetrate them at the very same time, all at once, thrusting and pulsating and rising and… I shook my head to rid myself of the thought, but the pinprick sensation was still needling its edge in the back of my head, sending electric waves down my spine.
I gave Tansy the bouquet of bluebells and instructed her: “Take these back to the chapel.
Someone will probably be wondering where we are and why we’re taking so long. Not a word of this, though. To anyone. Not even Winnie Gordon, you understand me. Someone is clearly playing a cruel joke, trying to get everyone excited and spooked for the upcoming anniversary. I’m going to go back to the clearing to tidy up so no one else sees it. I’ll be quick and come back with more flowers. Say I was unhappy with what was out there and wanted prettier ones.”
Tansy gave a quick nod and went on her way. I turned on my heels and headed straight for the clearing—straight back to the scene of grisly ritualistic murder, straight back to the scene that seemed to call to me, that drew me in. On closer inspection, I realized the twigs were arranged in the shape of a makeshift circle with the five-pointed star in the center. At each point of the star, a black melted candle was stuck into the earth. The waxy pools at their bases held them in place. A squirrel’s severed head was in the center of the star and there was blood—so much blood— adorning the center and outside of the circle.
But the blood sings.
I knelt at the end of the ground altar, entranced with the precision at which it was constructed and thought: Who could have done this? Why did they do this? What is the meaning behind it all? But my internal questions were drowned out by the song of the blood and replaced with the only thing I could describe the feeling as—knowing. The scene was suddenly beautiful to me, and a wave of guilt tumbled into my soul. I should not feel this way. I should not feel this way…
Yet something in me did.
The Ghostwriter of New Orleans by Laura Michaud #YAParanormal
Excerpt:
How many times have you forgotten to do something small? Shut a window before it rains? Take your phone with you? Do up a button on your shirt? Grab your homework on your way out the door? On the day that seals my fate, I forget to look over my shoulder.
Right before it happens everything is the same. I get the same rush of freedom that I always get in my stomach when I leave the school parking lot, hit the gas, and make a right turn onto St. Charles Avenue. The same line of live oak trees cast their tunnel of shadows over the street. I see their branches moving, so I turn the air conditioning off, roll my windows down, ignore the text messages blowing up my phone, and turn the Jimi Hendrix music (that I only listen to when I am by myself) way up. The sweat starts to pool up around the white collar of my school uniform, but the feeling of the wind across my face is totally worth it. What I do not know is that this is the last time I will ever do it.
I guess if you asked me what I do know for sure in those last moments I would say that I am a pretty fast runner, I am decent at guitar, and that Margot Cramer is the love of my life.
Monday, July 11, 2022
Her Dark Love by Isra Sravenheart #DarkFantasyRomance
Excerpt Chapter 1
On the warmest summer night, sounds could be heard echoing from the forest.
In the midst of the well-kept woods beside some well placed cherry trees was a quaint gray castle where a coven of young witches could be heard chorusing to one another, telling beguiling tales of yet another mysterious and harrowing day that had just ended.
The castle wasn't one you would expect of re-told fabrications from another world. It wasn't a grand palace where you would find queens, kings, and beautiful princesses with long, flowing golden hair! This enchanting establishment housed young witches and warlocks alike, a bountiful place where they could learn and hone in on their most gifted of skills: magic.
This place was owned and managed by a feeble man with silky black hair tumbling down to his neck. He went by the name Magnus Wingdom, and the establishment had been appropriately named Wingdom's Academy of Ancient Magics. It wasn't as much of a school at the moment, as the coven only contained thirteen girls. Yes, just girls. It prevented warlocks and witches from getting frisky with each other. That, among many other things, was forbidden!
Young witches would come here to be trained up in their craft, residing in their own coven quarters after the day’s learning was done. The school only housed up to a few at a time, but the students could leave whenever they pleased unless they were careless with their craft. Then they would be told to leave as soon as was universally possible. The last thing the coven needed was an embarrassment to their well-groomed establishment!
The winds grew violent as night was just in its beginning. A young witch hurriedly pulled her cloak close to her body, feeling the night’s chill upon her skin. She let her hood down gently for a moment to reveal chocolate-brown hair that almost surpassed her back. Her eyes were dominated by that of an emerald green, cleverly blending with the brown hue of her tresses.
Her name was Isra and she was just seventeen. She hadn't long passed her birthday, and now she had come to seek guidance from those who possessed knowledge in the greatest gift of them all. Witchcraft.
Isra had been born a witch. She had known this from her earliest years back when she was able to see those who no longer resided on this earthly plain to more enchanting ideals such as seeing fairies and nature spirits playing in the woods, dazzling her senses as she watched them with vivid curiosity.
She saw worlds beyond any childlike imagination, more than her earthly parents could understand or even encourage. In fact, they did much of the latter. Isra's parents were very grounded, human type people and so she quickly found she did not fit in with their dull world.
It was no trouble to Isra. She knew there had to be something more to this life than one of going to work all day, coming home and arguing with a respective spouse before once again going out to work the next day.
She sought refuge in fantasy, thrilled by entrancing feats where unicorns grazed upon heavenly plains of the greenest grass, delighted by fairies who stared at Isra as she felt gracious to be in their presence. When she felt a need for solitude, she would go down to the ocean where she found mermaids lying across ochre-colored shores, smiling in joy with one another as they combed their hair that glistened brilliantly with the white moonlight.
Alas, Isra was not a child anymore! She couldn't go back to those days even if she wanted to. She was becoming a woman, knowing that life held so many doors for her if only she willed them to open first.
She was here to learn, to excel in her craft. She had already begun basic spells, always having her nose inside the pages of a book, but now she was going to be under the teachings of some of the finest in the land with a hope that she would one day be among them.
https://linktr.ee/israsravenheart
https://twitter.com/ISravenheart
https://israsravenheartblog.wordpress.com/
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/isra-sravenheart
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https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13754513.Isra_Sravenheart
Thursday, July 07, 2022
Cover Reveal - Ask The Girl by Kim Bartosch #YAParanormalMystery
Kim is a young adult writer of paranormal mysteries and thrillers. She is fond of ghost stories and has experienced many hauntings during several paranormal investigations. She has contributed many articles regarding travel, hauntings, and more on various sites. Kim has been on several ghost hunts across the U.S. with her sister. She photographed a ghost at the Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs, Arkansas.
As an advocate for Autism and Bipolar Disorder, Kim offers her support to many charities and programs, such as Joshua Center and Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance (DBSA). Kim feels there aren’t enough programs for mental disabilities. Her goal is to give as much help to set up these organizations for success so individuals, such as her autistic son and bipolar sister, will have the support they need.
Kim is an avid member of the Society of Children Book Writers & illustrators (SCBWI.org) contributing her time to many events and conferences.
Website: https://www.kimbartosch.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KimBartosch/
Blog: https://kimberlybartosch.wixsite.com/blog
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kimbartosch/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100069061958912
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Kim-Bartosch/e/B0B26BQ8LQ