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In Rogue’s Shadow – Part Two

Annabel grabbed at her skirts, walked out of the room and onto the terrace overlooking the grounds where party revelers were gathered. She rested both hands over the rail and directed her gaze towards the oval-shaped balloon decorated entrance where a young man she knew to be thirty-one years old was standing.

He had managed to command for himself the attention of everyone present, including the two white fluffy dogs whose breed she could not tell because of the ghastly fusha-coloured garments they had been to wear, obviously against their will.

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In Rogue’s Shadow – Part One


They called him Dexter. Just that. What else do you call a man known for his perfect splendor and insurmountable ambitious accolades except his given name? Dexter.

He never spoke of his father, and those who could did so in whispers. And for that they forgave him for having no last name. In fact, it was a gift born of the cruel circumstances surrounding his birth. Society owed it to him to expect no other name than the one he chose for himself. Dexter.

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Seven and Nine

When I was a child, all I ever wanted to be was an adult. Then I woke up one day and wishes had turned to horses except the unicorn had neither wings nor horn. I asked the wise man Mr C why and he said that for me to see them, I had to use my mind’s eyes.  Was he asking me to think like a child or like an adult?  I suspected it was the former but I had bad news for him.

I had no more innocence left in me. In fairytales a kiss awakens a prince but in this life mere words turn to poison the moment they touch the lips. I once lost a portion of my innocence to the tick tock of the clock and later lost the whole lot in deep brown eyes that danced excitedly whenever the host’s tongue spewed venom. The unicorn finally got its wings and in the place of the mind grew its horn.

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The Alamond Affair (Sneak peek 1)

“I met the girl in Alamond, ” I explained to the sheriff , a short pot-bellied man who wore a perpetual frown on his face like he was mad at the world for allowing his mother to mate with his godforsaken father. I have known men to bond over such commonalities, but I was beyond rédemption when it came to this particular man. He was a necessary evil in my story. Had my mother been any wiser, she would have locked herself in the house and ovulated in peace thirty-two years ago. This catastrophe could have been avoided. Continue reading