Excerpt:
How can you be as smart as you are and have no backbone, girl? or You’re not pretty enough to be able to expect a man to take care of you, so you better find an administrative job so you can support yourself, or Self-consciousness is just another form of vanity. It’s just you thinking about yourself too much.
That simply scratched the surface of what Sarah heard on a daily basis growing up. On the positive side, she could take criticism with the best of them. She had also learned to channel her sensitivity into an awareness of people’s motivations that coworkers called “uncanny.” On the negative side, when her parents died, she had absorbed their voices into those that already spoke inside her head, and now they were the loudest ones.
It was her heightened awareness that told her that something was not quite right with the Davies case. She wasn’t sure what, and she would need to be careful about how she researched, but it tickled her curiosity.
Sarah was lost in these thoughts as she left the grocery store and made her way home, past the park and toward the basketball courts. When she realized where she was, her heart started to race a little bit at the thought of seeing the boy she had seen last week.
There were some boys playing on the court. She scanned them for someone in grungy clothes, but from a distance, they all looked like they were wearing appropriate attire.Sarah’s heart sank a little.
Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. Although she wasn’t exactly sure what she was chiding herself about, it was nice when the voice doing the talking was her own.
As she got closer, she saw the tall, red-haired boy miss a shot and retake the ball. He was one of the regulars. When the red-haired boy landed, he jostled one of the other boys near him. That boy staggered, regained his footing, and in the process deftly stole the ball. When she saw his face, Sarah actually heard herself gasp. The boy who had been pushed, the one who now had the basketball, was the boy she had seen before. She hadn’t noticed him because his appearance was quite different. His shoulder-length dark hair had been cut. He had on a red-and-black striped shirt that didn’t look expensive, but did look brand new, as did the matching shorts. His sneakers were black with pristine white soles. And right at the moment, he was dribbling the ball down the court—straight at her.
Sarah froze. She was standing on the sidewalk behind the basket on the other side of the chain-link fence. She felt like her feet had grown roots as she watched him set up, jump, and make the basket. He came down right in front of her. As he landed, before turning to run back down the court, he stopped and caught her eye. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and he smiled.
For a moment, he looked directly in her eyes and she felt a strange dizzy feeling in seeing him and being seen by him. No one in her life ever seemed to actually see her. No one ever had.
Roxanne Rhoads
Welcome to Roxanne's Realm, the home of author, book publicist, mixed media crafter, and lover of all things spooky- Roxanne Rhoads.
Tuesday, May 23, 2023
Caio by LS Delorme #Paranormal #Romantic #Thriller #PNR
Scrooge’s Folly – Saving Jacob Marley by David Weinberg #RomCom #PNR
Excerpt:
Andrea walked to the coffee table and picked up the letter. She held it up and jabbed at it with her right index finger. “Eleven regional theatre companies have performed Rememberings this year, and I get a royalty check for $750. How could that be right? They’re screwing me and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”
“Call Roger and see what he has to say.”
Andrea laughed. “Roger? He texted me yesterday. Not a word about money. He texts me once a year and never once has mentioned royalties…let us not forget that Roger is my last remaining tie to Brian. I met Roger through Brian. Fifty agents wanted to sign me, and Brian insisted I go with Roger and WMA. He’s a pleasant enough guy, unlike Brian, but he’s never done a damn thing for me. Is it Brian’s fault for recommending him, or my fault for listening to him?”
Thoughts of Brian hit Andrea like a face against a windshield. She hadn’t thought about him consciously in a long time, yet he was never far from her thoughts. Some guys are like that; they just get into your blood. Often it is the horrible ones that stay there. As the hot water from the shower touched her skin, it elicited an almost imperceptible sigh. She and Brian had spent many a shower together. She remembered how he loved to soap her breasts, and make her nipples hard…until they begged for his lips. She tossed her wet hair out of her eyes and slapped the wall, chastising herself for even thinking about him. He was just one of many evil spirits she had encountered in her life, and he was her past. Perhaps Ivoryton would point the way to her future. She shook her head as she dried her hair with a towel. She had no idea that she was not quite done with Brian yet.
Monday, May 22, 2023
The Roast Iconic Oracle Deck by Marcella Kroll #OracleDeck #OracleCards
Saturday, May 13, 2023
Forged In Lies by Raven Dark and Jenna Stirling #DarkDystopian #WhyChoose #MCRomance
Excerpt 2:
Havoc
My cock’s still hard as a rock when I thump down the steps toward Brute’s infirmary. As I reach the door to the basement, it flies open, almost hitting me in the face.
“Watch where you’re going, fucker,” Sage snaps. He shoots me an irritated look before stomping up the steps.
I glance back at him. Professor’s in a fuckin’ mood. I growl under my breath. For a genius, he can be really stupid sometimes. He’s supposed to be watching her.
Shaking my head, I walk into the infirmary and halt. Venom’s standing at the foot of the bed, staring down at our captive. She’s cuffed hand and foot to the bedrails. Venom’s pulled her ass forward so her knees are bent. My fists clench. He’s idly running his hand over her bare stomach.
“Thought you said no one was supposed to touch her, Keep.” The disrespect slips out.
He jerks as if I caught him off guard. I like that I startled him.
“My house, my rules.” He doesn’t take his eyes off her. My jaw tightens as he slides his hand down to her pussy. “She’s fuckin’ beautiful,” he muses, not seeming to realize he’s spoken. “Like an angel.”
Her eyes are still closed, and she doesn’t move. I drink in her naked body, long limbs immobilized. My cock’s hard to the point of distraction.
Venom strokes her pussy as if it’s his. Fuck that, she’s mine. Mine.
Shit, women are a dime a dozen to me, but I hate the thought of anyone’s hands on her. His being my fuckin’ Keeper’s all that’s preventing me from throwing him through a wall into next week.
“You want her, Havoc?” Eyes on her, he slips one finger into her cunt. She still doesn’t move.
“Actually, I wanna snap your neck,” I say.
He grins. “I know you want her, and I guess I do too. Tired as fuck of fighting it.” He withdraws his fingers and licks her juices off. “We need her out of our heads. It’s our job to look after things. We both gotta have clear heads to lead the club outta this mess.”
I grunt in acknowledgment. He’s right. This possessive shit’s making me want to shove my cock down her throat until she chokes.
“She needs to be fucked,” Venom rasps. “I wanna see you give her what she deserves.”
Shit, yeah.
Before, the idea of letting anyone touch her rankled, but now everything in me’s telling me to share her. She isn’t only mine. She’s ours. It just feels… right. Like something in me is choosing him.
Choosing him for her.
I cross the room to them. Venom makes room for me, moving to her head. I step into the spot between her legs, looking her over. She’s toned without being bulky. Even in repose, there’s a certain grace to her body. Hard and soft all at the same time, built for battle. And fucking.
I tweak her nipple and smirk at him. “Think it’s time to wake her up, Keep.”
His smile widens. Then he bends down and lays one right on her lips.
She thrashes awake, arms and legs tugging hard on the cuffs as if she’s being waterboarded.
This is gonna be fun.
Thursday, May 11, 2023
Bittersouls by L.A. Morton-Yates #YAFantasy
Excerpt:
Something moved at the edge of the horizon. It was like a shadow, black as a cloud but moving fast across the snow plain. Time seemed to stop, but Dela could feel herself sliding forward as if she were standing on a lake of ice. Freja was still yelling, but she couldn’t hear her. Her arms were flailing, but Dela hardly noticed.
A wave of lights moved in front of the thing, jumping and turning, quick as sparks. It was like a field of quails fleeing into the sky before a coming wolf, but the wolf—the shadow—followed them. The closer it got, the more the shiver racked her spine. She knew exactly what it was, though she’d never seen one. No one in the congregation had. There were no stories. No whisperings. Only a name.
“Shade.”
Freja stared at her, bewildered into silence. Perhaps she was going to speak, but then—
“Shade!” Dela reached for her friend, snatching her by the sleeve and pulling her toward her. They ran, berries forgotten even as the bags bounced in Dela’s grip. They were a dozen strides from the bush before she thought to secure them to one of her belt hooks. How could she even think of them at a time like this? They had to get to the camp. People had to know.
They skidded to a stop at the edge of the overhang they’d climbed. The tents were only a dozen feet below, and a handful of people had gathered at the commotion. They stared up at the two girls with confusion intermingled with irritation. They weren’t used to their evening being disturbed by shouting, and the long journey had people’s nerves worn thin.
None of that mattered. All that mattered was what they would do. What were they supposed to do?
“Shade coming from the east!” Dela yelled. “Get the Ministers!”
Chaos possessed the camp. People scrambled, yelling. Others just stood with disbelieving frowns. Some started running in no particular direction. As if that would save them.
Would it?
Dela knew nothing about Shades. She hadn’t put much thought into what they might be or do or want. All she knew was that whatever that thing was, it was one of them. And the lights? The things it was chasing? What were they?
Freja was trembling as she crouched and threw her legs out over the edge of the rocks. It was a maneuver she’d done a hundred times, and in colder weather than this. But for fear or anger or nerves, her grip failed. Dela lurched downward, chest striking hard against the rocks as her hand snapped out into the air—and caught her friend’s arm. She grunted as she swung the girl toward the rock wall, which Freja caught in an instant. They exchanged an important glance, but there was time for little else.
Dela stood again, scanning the snowfield for signs of the shadow. It was still gliding forth on nothing but empty air, like a nightmare in a dead sprint toward an innocent dreamer. But, she realized, it was not heading straight for them. It had deviated, aiming toward the empty field north of them, and if it kept going that way, it might miss them entirely.
Could it see? It didn’t seem to have eyes. Nor any other body part, per se. Did it smell, then? Or feel? How could it expect to find anything out here in the cold, white abyss of the Bitters?
Whatever rules it followed couldn’t be the same as what humans or animals followed. It didn’t make any sense.
Then she saw the reason. One of the congregation, maddened by fear, had made a break for it, out into the open Basin. The Shade wasn’t just going to miss the camp. It was going after him.
He’d made it a hundred feet from the camp, and showed no signs of looking back or slowing. From the angle of approach, the man couldn’t see the shadow coming. Couldn’t see it bearing down on him. Couldn’t see the impossibility of his flight.
The Shade engulfed him as though it was little more than a localized fog. He vanished entirely from view, and for one bizarre moment, the beast of a cloud seemed to stop.
Then they heard the scream.
Tuesday, April 25, 2023
🏆💜2023 FAVORITE FAN COMPETITION💜🏆





Monday, April 24, 2023
Obedience by Liza Snow #RomanticSuspense
Excerpt:
I hadn’t needed to prompt her. She began, pulling herself upward, drawing those silks around her small frame as she went. Climbing high into the air as the two women began their duet. The French lyrics pulled me in every time. It was perhaps one of the reasons that while I simply tolerated most opera songs I’d heard, I adored this song.
Every time I heard it, every time I got lost in those little nuances of the language, it brought me back to summertime in Melun, France. Playing on the hills overlooking the city, lost in the grasses filled with wildflowers. Climbing into Meme’s apple trees. Perhaps the time in my life when it had felt so simple. All there were, were the memories of when I’d been happy.
And if there was any place I wanted to be, as I watched Cassandra ascending above me, knowing in seconds I would be right beside her, it was in those memories again. Bringing her with me.
The first stanza finished, and my mind immediately centered. My hands had already been wrapped in the silks without having to think about it. She paused, and I saw her attention drift downward. We fell captive to one another, and it was all I needed to see. I knew it was my turn to go to her. She was waiting for me.
In the same fashion she had moments earlier, I began my way up the silks beside hers, which had been a deep royal purple color. The entire time I made my way high into the room, I immersed myself in the French lyrics, the strings complimenting every rise and fall of the two women’s voices. Some moments, I’d lose myself in what I was doing, taking careful note of all the little adjustments my body was making. Other times, my attention drifted upward. Until finally, I was just beneath Cassandra.
When I paused again, I took a few deep breaths, steadying myself. Focused entirely on the beautiful woman above me, who was just as attentive to me. I nodded to her, signaling I was ready, prepared to follow her in whatever she had thought to do next.
At the precise moment when I had met her, she had already begun moving herself into a sailor pose above me, legs splitting, and much to my satisfaction, every single part of her in perfect position. All the small details I’d shown her the first lesson we’d had together were as pristine as when I’d helped her myself.
I would have taken more time to truly enjoy how proud of her I felt if she hadn’t twisted downward, dropping her torso straight toward me in a graceful fall. Before she’d completed it, I knew what she’d done. A Rainbow Marchenko. A famous move of Jeanne’s for many years. But watching her as she settled into it, I would have thought it was hers alone.
Cassandra’s hands dropped, releasing the silks. Dangling inches away. The only thing holding her in the air was the precise folds of those green fabrics wrapped around her legs.
Looking into her eyes as she hung there, waiting for me to act, all I could do was smile. She’d been focused, lost in her own world, but she’d come back to me. We were together again in the very place I had wanted to be with her ever since I’d seen her flying through the silks at her audition. I had dreamt about it every time since, every lesson we had, every time I’d watched her from the shadows of the theater while she practiced.
I had taken her to those fields in Melun with me, high in the trees. Trapped us both in those treasured memories, made all the better knowing she was there.
“I’ve got you, Cassandra,” I called out to her, gently. Steadying myself, my body locked in place. Breathing slow and rhythmic and calm. I watched her take the same breath as I had, waiting for the little drop in the lyrics before the next few lines began.
The moment their voices bellowed into the theater again, she let herself drop in a salto. In a gentle sweep of my body, I caught her gracefully into my arms. Twisted us together, letting the silks take hold of the two of us as we swung across the room, dozens of feet above the stage below us. Falling like two feathers locked together, dancing into the wind.
When the fabrics released us, I swung us outward. Our bodies drifted apart again as she spun around me, both of us still descending toward the floor. As beautiful as she looked, circling outward away from me, the moment she had, I wanted her back. I used my legs to give myself enough momentum to swing forward, latching on again once she’d appeared.
Cassandra had been so close I’d felt her breath against my face while we dangled above the stage. I got lost in the way it felt to be tangled up with her, a mess of bodies and fabric. Consumed by it. Convinced I might never let go of her again.
As we’d traversed the rest of the way back to the stage, I didn’t. The two of us descended together as a singular unit, just her and I and the fabrics. Improvising the graceful fall we were doing, finding little tricks and motions to carry out, all the while never leaving her side.
We’d both reached the floor, perfectly in sync with one another. I heard a gentle thump as we landed. Followed by the sound of both of our light, audible breaths. Steadying ourselves back on the ground.
Even having left the air, the silks still wrapped around us. Neither of us had freed ourselves. Cassandra was still in my arms, something I realized, when I hadn’t been so caught up in what we were doing all those feet above us, was happening for the very first time.
The sweet smell of oranges overwhelmed me. Her beautiful hazel eyes, those captivating flecks of grays and greens and browns, drowned out the world around us. I watched her breathing softly, holding her to me and those silks holding me to her.
And in those next few moments, every single solitary thing keeping me from her since the day we had met no longer existed in the little reality we were trapped in. Every fear I had, every reservation, disappeared. I tightened her to me, my hands capturing the sides of her face in a gentle sweep, as elegant as every other thing we’d done those last few minutes.
Our mouths fell together, and I lost myself in her. Trapped in those profound and so unbelievably relieving seconds in which the things that had stood in our way no longer mattered.
I hadn’t thought anything could have surpassed the experience the two of us just shared.
Undeniably, it had been the best minutes I had ever spent in those silks in my entire career. As simple as it had been. And we had barely started. This was only the beginning.
But this moment now was just as wonderful. As perfect as I could have hoped.
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