Excerpt:
I remembered the pain of transformation, if only as a haze of red and tearing muscle. I remembered the awful rasp of my canines being filed blunt and the burn of silver being placed over the stumps to keep my true nature at bay. I had gone through hell so that girls like this wouldn’t have to, and now I was failing her.
Isolde walked into my field of vision, blocking my view of the tortured girl and breaking me out of my spiral of self-pity; I folded up the memories and tucked them away with the others, shifting my focus to the present. Isolde’s arms were crossed, the tip of one boot tapping against the flagstones.
“This is very impressive. Look more impressed,” she demanded.
“Can I look horrified instead?”
Isolde huffed, childlike and thwarted.
“I suppose that will do,” she said. “You know, I was really counting on you to be more entertaining than George. Do they surgically remove your personalities when they pump you full of wolf’s blood?”
“I don’t know. Do they surgically remove your morals when you sign the Mage Registry?”
“Ha! I’ll have you know that several of my colleagues are terrible sticks in the mud and would take great offence at the suggestion. I’m quite certain they will stay within the bounds of safe magic use and never go even a little bit mad.”
“And you?” I ventured. “Have you gone a little bit mad?”
“Of course you would see brilliance and call it madness. If I do go mad, it’s because I have no one but a zombie to talk to. And George, I suppose.”
She smiled, just a little quirk of her mouth at one side as if the two of us were sharing a joke. I had never imagined that I would be gently needled by a target. I did not like it.
I would not say that I sulked. I had simply elected to end the conversation. It was in Isolde’s interest to keep me talking, I reminded myself: if I was talking, I was not thinking, was not planning. I needed to do both if I wanted to get myself and the girl to safety. I could come back for Isolde later. Or someone else could.
The problem was that, devoid of entertainment, Isolde had taken to scratching the bottom of a glass beaker with a scalpel. Her work was precise, careful, but the sound of sharp metal against glass scraped at my ears, interrupting all attempts at thought. I glared at her.
This was a mistake.
“I’m sure you must be wondering what I’m doing,” said Isolde, without looking up.
“Not particularly.”
“I’m engraving the soul-binding runes into the base of this bottle.” She paused. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”
“No.”
She was going to tell me anyway.
“I am engraving the soul-binding runes into the base of this bottle,” Isolde repeated, her voice heavy and her words overenunciated as if my disinterest was an obstacle she could overcome by sheer force. “So that I can recapture the soul, should the experiment fail.”
Roxanne Rhoads
Welcome to Roxanne's Realm, the home of author, book publicist, mixed media crafter, and lover of all things spooky- Roxanne Rhoads.
Monday, September 21, 2026
So Beats a Hollow Heart: A Novella by B. M. Briar #DarkFantasy #GothicHorror #LGBTQ
Thursday, September 10, 2026
Pre-Order Blitz - Lunar Seductions: A Limited-Edition Collection of Paranormal and Fantasy Romance Stories #Shifters #PNR
Excerpt from Diamond Moon Rising by Celia Breslin
A thump from outside on his deck, heavier than the staccato taps of the hail, halted him in his foyer. More offbeat thuds sounded near the front door.
Company in this weather?
No one would venture up his private road uninvited…
He stalked to his door and released a bit of power in warning. If they were a shifter, they would likely take the hint. And if they didn’t… Well, he was a dominant wolf, a Beta, and one of the alpha’s enforcers.
They don’t stand a chance.
The feedback froze his fingers on the doorknob.
Female.
He inhaled. Damn, she smells good.
Human. Wolf.
Wait…both?
The copper tang of blood hit his nose. She’s injured.
He flung open the door and caught his visitor off guard, one small, white fist raised to knock. The woman startled then fell forward. Ross caught her in his arms then pulled her inside, kicking the door shut with one booted foot.
The petite female sagged against him, a shivering bundle of sopping wet woman. Underneath the dampness, her scent drop-kicked his gut.
Fresh and sweet, like apples dipped in cinnamon and honey.
His body perked up, taking extreme notice. A growl of possession threatened to tear out of his throat, and an ancient, primal energy stirred to life inside him, accelerating his pulse.
Holy hell, she’s my potential mate.
The scent of her blood spurred him into action. He lowered her gently to the floor. “Are you okay?”
His instincts urged him to check her for wounds everywhere, but he was a stranger and didn’t want to spook her. But goddamn, he wanted to touch her. Peel off her wet clothes. To see all of her and warm her with his body.
With a jacket covering her torso, baggy jeans hiding her legs, and a ball cap pulled low over her face, all he could see so far was her quivering pale chin, full red lips, and delicate, trembling fingers peeking out from her coat sleeves.
“S-s-sorry, d-dripping all ov-v-ver your f-f-floor,” she said, her teeth chattering.
Her snow-white fingers curled into fists, her arms trembling with the effort to keep herself upright. Blood droplets dotted the floor plank near her hip.
To hell with propriety. “You’re injured. Let me help you.” He pulled up her cap and damn near swallowed his tongue.
Big green eyes blinked up at him from a face so pale it made him think of moonlight. Drenched, short black hair lay plastered to her head, the ends framing features reminiscent of the fairies his sister loved to draw.
Ethereal beauty. Want her to be my beauty.
She flinched and batted his hand away. “Stop,” she rasped before listing to her side, her body trembling.
With the cold or fear?
He desperately didn’t want her to be afraid. “Sorry. Please, let me help you. I’m Ross. You’re safe here. I promise.”
Monday, September 07, 2026
Bewitching Book Tours Conjures the Second Annual Spooktastic Haunted Book Fair
Monday, August 31, 2026
A Festival of Oddities is This Weekend!!!!
Join me at The FOO!
Presented by Scream Queen Productions and The Courthouse Square Association, admission to the grounds is free, and admission to the museum is just $5/person.
Visit the Macabre Marketplace with over 100 peddlers of the peculiar, grab lunch on Food Truck Row, adopt a new familiar in our Creature Cavern, visit the Living Library to meet your favorite true crime and horror authors, tour the haunted Courthouse Square Museum and peruse exclusive exhibits, and so much more!
Saturday, September 5, 11 am-6 pm
Sunday, September 6, 11 am-4 pm
https://www.facebook.com/events/24702470592726033
Sunday, August 30, 2026
Authors at ArtWalk Brought to you by Bewitching Book Tours








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