CHAPTER 1: THE WOOLLY MAMMOTH THIEF
In the seven-decade-long existence of the Nottingham Natural History Museum, no break-in had ever occurred until five a.m. on one fateful Saturday. The trespasser’s name was Maxwell Oscar Jacobs, a local retail worker. In his spare time, he enjoyed playing Tetris, doing crossword puzzles, and—his preferred pastime—a spot of treasure hunting.
With a stone he’d found on the pavement, Max had smashed the museum’s back window and climbed into it by balancing on a rubbish bin. Shortly thereafter, he padded warily through the geology exhibit surrounded by models of Earth, not enjoying the experience in the slightest. Surveillance cameras mounted above on the wall scanned him, but he dearly hoped the authorities hadn’t been dispatched to arrest him. They shouldn’t be. After all, he hadn’t poured chocolate milk on the power box outside for nothing.
Max was twenty-one years old, rather tall with stick insect limbs. Bright blond hair and a poorly cut fringe topped his head. He wore a grey Cookie Monster hoodie, straight-legged jeans, Mickey Mouse socks and a cheap, halfbroken children’s watch with coloured numbers. He also wore blue trainers with the shoelaces undone and carried a Tony the Tiger rucksack in which to store the mammoth tusk he was after. To top it all, he had a scabbard that held a broadsword called Fleshrender, Max’s favourite possession.
Pacing along, he thought passingly that he should have dressed the part more and put on a ski mask. His heart pounded as he passed by the dinosaur exhibit, unease assailing him. It was too late to go home at this point. He just had to find the mammoth tusk before daylight.
He gathered himself, drew his sword and focused on not tripping while he navigated through the dark, winding corridors. Even the smallest of noises made him jump—broadsword at the ready—as he crept through the empty halls.
With the lights off, the museum was practically a haunted house. While he tiptoed into the zoology section, glimmering rays of moonlight streamed in through the windows, falling gently over him. Shadowed model animals lined the walls, felt rabbits and plastic spiders sitting on table displays. A frightening bear stood with its paws raised and its sharp jaws wide open as if
ready to pounce on him at a moment’s notice. Max’s eyes widened, but within seconds he discerned to his relief it was just taxidermy.At last, the mammoth appeared behind a red security barrier not far away. With every muscle tensed, he gazed in awe at its gigantic figure. But his jaw dropped as he realised, despite how carefully he had planned this mission, he’d forgotten one crucial part: how to extract the mammoth tusk out of the skeleton. It looked like it’d been screwed in tightly. Should’ve
brought a screwdriver. Oh, bother.Pushing his shoulders back, he sheathed his weapon, strode right up to
the mammoth and peered at the display label. It read:This woolly mammoth skeleton was discovered in 1925 by a team of esteemed archaeologists in rural Devon. It was the first almost entirely preserved specimen ever uncovered in England. It is a relic of priceless historical value. DO NOT TOUCH.
Deciding to disobey and wrest the tusk out, Max stepped over the maroon rope that encircled the mammoth and wrapped his hands around it. Like Arthur pulling the sword from the stone, there was nothing else to do but pull really, really hard.
After counting down from three, he tugged the mammoth tusk towards him with all his might. It took a few tries, but finally the tusk separated from the woolly mammoth skeleton with a nasty crack, and he fell on his backside.
Yet before he could rejoice, he heard the sound of a creak.
A door opened across the room.
“PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK! LAY DOWN ON THE GROUND!”
Max turned around and scrambled to his feet, mouth wide open. Police with intimidating weapons emerged out of nowhere, swarming him. He gaped at the approaching horde before looking back down at the tusk. This couldn’t be happening.
The thought crossed his mind to run. But what was the point? There were too many police. He was toast!
He dropped the mammoth tusk on the floor and unsheathed his sword.
“Listen, this is all a b-big misunderstanding,” he stuttered.
“NO MISUNDERSTANDING!” a second officer yelled, a woman in a navy tunic with a bulletproof vest. She inched over to him. “HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK NOW!”
Max stared at the police, aghast. They think I’m a criminal. How ridiculous. I’m just an innocent treasure hunter!
“Let me e-explain. It’s v-very, very important for you to let me eexplain,” Max stammered.
He pointed his sword at them threateningly, before spotting a paunchy man who held what looked like a laser pointer and was aiming it at him.
Max swung the sword around as a warning. “Please. If you’d just give me a second to clear this up, I’m sure that—arghhh!”
His words cut out with a bloodcurdling scream. Electricity surged through his body. The red dot he’d seen on his chest hadn’t been from a laser pointer at all, but a taser. Limbs spasming, Max fell onto the floor and crumpled into a ball as the police closed in on him.
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, May 16, 2024
The Crystalline Crucible by Adam Rowan
Wednesday, May 15, 2024
The Heart of Chenoa by Creole Noir #MagicalRealism
Excerpt:
Amidst the sprawling fields of Chenoa, a small town nestled in the heart of the Texas, a tale of resilience and friendship unfolds. At its core lies the story of a young woman named Indigo, whose journey from darkness to light weaves a tapestry of courage, love, and the transformative power of friendship.
Indigo had known no other reality than the one she shared with her abusive boyfriend, Troy. The shackles of fear bound her tightly, choking the life out of her dreams. But one fateful night, fueled by a flicker of courage ignited deep within her heart, she made the decision to break free.
With nothing but a few belongings and a trembling resolve, Indigo set out on a journey to start anew in a town where nobody knew her name. Chenoa welcomed her with open arms, offering sanctuary from the storm that had raged within her for far too long.
As Indigo tentatively navigated the unfamiliar school of her new home, she stumbled upon a group of misfits whose warmth and acceptance enveloped her like a comforting embrace. Among them were Brooke and Jerald, inseparable siblings whose laughter echoed through the halls of Chenoa High School, and JC, whose inner turmoil simmered beneath his charming exterior.
Together, they formed an unlikely family, bound not by blood but by the unbreakable ties of friendship and shared experiences. Each member of their motley crew bore scars of their own, but together, they found solace in the company of kindred spirits.
As high school dramas unfolded and personal traumas resurfaced, Indigo and her newfound companions stood united against the tide of adversity. They rallied together to seek justice against a conniving classmate, their bonds growing stronger with each shared victory.
But beneath the surface of their idyllic friendship lay secrets waiting to be unearthed. JC harbored a love for Jerald that dared not speak its name, while Brooke's premonitions whispered of futures yet to unfold. And in the shadows, Jerald battled with the demons of his past, struggling to tame the beast within.
Yet through it all, they clung to each other, their hearts intertwined in a tapestry of love and loyalty. As they confronted their deepest fears and embraced their unique gifts, they discovered that strength lies not in solitude but in the unbreakable bonds of friendship.
In The Heart of Chenoa, amidst the Spanish moss trees and the whispering winds, Indigo and her friends learned that the greatest battles are fought not with fists but with hearts open wide. And as they embraced the magic woven into the fabric of their lives, they found redemption in the unlikeliest of places: within themselves, and within the hearts of those they held dear.
Tuesday, May 14, 2024
Happy Release Day to The Hunter's Daughter by Nicola Solvinic #SupernaturalMystery #SerialKillerThriller
A hypnotic, sinister debut mystery about a seemingly good cop who is secretly the daughter of a notorious serial killer.
Thursday, May 09, 2024
Bound Across Time by Annie R McEwen #ParanormalRomance
Book Trailer: https://shorturl.at/ajuE0
Excerpt from Bound Across Time, by Annie R McEwen
You’re
an idjit, Patrick. Death was always too good for you.
He
should have gone slower with her, no doubt about it. He was a lout, a brute, to
startle her so thoroughly, and that was never his intent. He could have—no, he
should have—whispered, or moaned, or shimmered from a distance. Instead, he was
hasty.
Hasty?
He was a burning brand of desire. Who could blame him after two
hundred-fifty…how long had it been? He’d lost count of the years.
That
was still no reason to be an imbecilic knave, popping up like codswalloping
Punch on a puppet stage while wearing the same filthy linen he was tipped
overboard in when the Earl didn’t have the decency to give him a proper burial.
At least the sea water had washed away the blood.
His
honor, his common sense—perhaps they’d washed away as well. Within reach of
this woman, he could remember nothing he’d learned of subtle romance and
courtly manners. All he could think of was making her his, now until the end of
time.
What
an embarrassment he was, to his sainted mother, to his upbringing, to the
gentleman he was reared to be. An embarrassment to every Irish bard who ever
sang songs or wrote poems about women who were doves, and lilies, and other
things he couldn’t remember.
He
did remember that they were fragile and easily startled. Easily driven away.
Next time, I will be slow. I will slowly and gently explain things to her.
Unusual things. Highly unusual, uncanny, frightening, nigh incomprehensible
things.
Sure,
now, Patrick, me boyo, that’ll be a stroll along the banks of the Shannon.
By
the right hand of God, but she was beautiful. Slumbering on the stone floor,
her skin smooth ivory but gilded, as though the sun had kissed her once and
then fallen in love, unable to leave. She’d lost her cap, and her hair—rich,
deep brown and burnished with red, like brandy—tumbled around her neck and
shoulders. Her sun-brushed skin, high and perfect cheekbones, the delicate
slant of her eyes, the plump swell of her breasts above the top edge of her bodice,
the curves of the body he could imagine pressed to his own aching and lonely
one…
Beauty
itself, she was, not only of body but of mind. In the weeks before she’d seen
him, he’d watched her exercise that beautiful mind among the slower thinkers of
the Castle, who doubtless envied her. She was stubborn, spirited, and
quick-witted—he liked that.
He crouched over her crumpled form, not touching, only taking in her scent.
Rose attar and mint—he liked that, too.
The
only thing he didn’t care for was the name she went by, See-see. What sort of
name was that? It was something you called a canary. He would never call her
that, not when the French name with which she’d been christened was just like
her.
Céleste,
meaning heavenly.
She was waking now. He rose and backed away. Time for him to depart, as he must, and breathe a prayer. Not for himself, there was no point to that. If God had ever listened to him, he wouldn’t be where he was, and he deserved no better. His prayer would be for her, the angel who defied or escaped God’s curse to light his endless night.
Come back, Céleste Gowdie. Please come back.
Thursday, May 02, 2024
Pre-Order Haunted Hotels of Michigan by Roxanne Rhoads
From captivating tales of lingering lumber barons to lovelorn ladies and chilling stories of murder, Michigan's hotels hold secrets that will send shivers down the spine.
Ghostly apparitions and mysterious whispers have terrified guests for years at Petoskey's Terrace Inn and The House of Ludington in Escanaba, while eerie occurrences and disembodied voices wake guests in the night at Kalamazoo's Henderson Castle Inn. Once named America's Most Haunted City, Mackinac Island has enough ghosts to keep visitors sleepless for a lifetime.
Embark on a spine-chilling journey through the Mitten State with Haunted Flint author Roxanne Rhoads as she unveils the spooky history of Michigan's most haunted hotels and inns.
Your haunted travels begin here… if you dare to check in.
Pre-Order for Book Release Party
Please note that this will not be shipped,
this is for you to pick up at the