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Now Playing: Once Upon a Cannibal Sunset

“A…Alice!” she shrieked, head smashing against the wood. Her ears rang, time slowing around her. Her words emerged as thick as the canned spaghetti. “Get off.”

The doppelganger pressed itself completely to her back, holding her in place with heavily muscled arms and legs. Its scales grated against the skin bared by her torn coat. Its tongue probed at the center of her back, trailing up the cut it had torn from her skin.

Tasting her.

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Catch “Once Upon a Cannibal Sunset” on Tuesday mornings.

The Author

AdamsonAlyssaAuthor@gmail.com

Alyssa Adamson lives in a quiet New Jersey neighborhood with her husband, Pomeranian, and two cats. Filling every moment of her spare time with writing a different kind of romance: a romance where girls can save boys, characters speak like real people, and happy endings aren’t a given.

Check in for new stories all the time.

The Amaryllis

Eden should’ve died in that car crash. It would’ve been the human thing to do. Unfortunately, since meeting the mysterious Phil Bronwyn, human things are becoming few and far between. For a seventeen-year-old living in Joy, Georgia, a fascination with the new boy shouldn’t be the only thing that makes Eden feel like she belongs. But with nothing to show for her free time but a gig in her parents’ flower shop, a single friend, and a penchant for panic attacks, she has trouble relating to people her own age.

Maybe that’s what drew him to her.

Phil is running: from exposure, from his sister’s impending death, and from the pain that molded him into the creature of darkness he has become. He’s thrown up walls that make feelings for Eden as impossible as falling in love with the steak on your plate. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Worlds collide when Phil is unable to stand by and watch the object of his long-dormant affections burn to death in that car, even if saving her means damning her. Even if saving her means leaving her best friend to rot. Even if saving her means unleashing a darkness far greater than that which dwells in the soul of a demon:

The one that dwells in ours.