Aurore Muse
Aurore's Madness
This is the part of my site where I will be posting samples of text from my newer books. I will update this page as often as I have a book in publishing. Thank you for your support, and I hope you like my book.
-Aurore Muse
Madness - Chapter One Sample Text 03/03/2023 (new version)
The music pulses in my ears as the sun descends from the sky, beginning to touch the tops of the trees as the forest consumes it. I’m in a small clearing on the side of a mountain, as if the mountain was a tooth that had long ago been dented, tall grass growing where there should be trees. I peek at the gray wolf sitting there at the edge of the woods, several feet from me, my cerulean eyes full of wonder as I watch this majestic creature just sitting there. Normally, they wouldn’t get so close. It glances at me every so often, but this time, it's just looking to the left as if it’s sensed something I don’t. The trees are tall with emerald green leaves, some starting to turn red and yellow as the fall is starting to approach. It's still warm enough to wear a black tank top that’s got paint stains all over it and new grey jean shorts that haven’t been touched by paint yet. I have a large loose black cardigan on, prepared for the cool night.
I return to my painting, finishing the last stroke just as the wolf runs off. I take a headphone out, a strand of my thick auburn hair falling as I do so and making its way from my shoulder to my hips as I smile. It's the ghost of a smile, long ago passed. What I love about this place is that I’m the only one here, no one seems to ever be here when I am, and it brings a sense of tranquility. My small piece of calm in the raging storm of my life.
I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, anxiety gripping me. I already know who it is, and I sigh as I look at the most recent text. Annoyance and remorse bubbling in my stomach simultaneously.
Isabelle, please talk to me. I saw you punch Rebecca, and I know you got suspended. Please help me understand. Please stop cutting me out.
It's Curtis.
We had been friends since we were in elementary together. Curtis had stood up for me when there were kids bullying me. Ever since, he’s always been my friend and we were almost inseparable. He’d nicknamed me Izzy early on because he didn’t want to say Isabelle every time he spoke to me, but when I needed him, he was always there. We were starting to grow closer before my parents died, and when they did, it rocked my world. Nothing was the same to me, I wasn’t the same, and I’m still not. He had tried to comfort me, but I put up walls, not wanting comfort from anyone, not even wanting to hear the slightest worry or see a hint of pity in anyone’s eyes. I had a small friend group of about seven friends, but my parents’ deaths had affected me in a way I never could have guessed. I just wanted to be alone, I didn’t want any company. I just wanted to be by myself every hour, and though I could push away my other friends, Curtis still makes it a point to message me often enough, as if I’ll eventually break my silence.
It’s been almost a full two years since I stopped talking to Curtis, and he’s the one I most regret shutting out, but now I don’t know what to say to him.
What is there to say to someone you stopped speaking to for no real reason at all?
"Gorgeous," a charming voice behind me swoons.
I turn to the source of the voice just as my phone buzzes again, though this time I ignore it. It has to be Curtis again, that or my brother Ian. Either way, I don’t particularly care right now.
Instead, I'm looking at the source of this flirtatious voice.
"Excuse me?" I snap with annoyance, my eyes fixed on the guy leaning against the nearest tree. He has flashy golden hair with deep brown eyes. The light hits them in a way that makes them look like the dark amber of pancake syrup. He's tall with tan skin and a square jaw, a coy smile across his face.
"I meant the picture," he asserts with amusement before looking to the sky. "This place isn't easy to find."
"I like adventures," I remark with a tense shrug, allowing my annoyance to be clear as water in my voice. My narrow features coming in handy to display the displeasure.
He looks to me in amusement, a coy smile lifting his lips. “You can stop being annoyed, I’m not here to keep you company.”
“Then why are you here?” I glower, starting to seethe in anger.
“For someone so annoyed, you seem surprisingly curious about me,” the boy suggests with a raised eyebrow. At my non-faltering glare, he rolls his eyes. “I come here mostly at night when I’m in town. It’s a nice secluded place to be alone.”
I keep my eyes on him, as if he’s a predator and I’m his prey. “What do you do here?”
He raises an eyebrow, “I’m not a murderer if that’s what you believe.”
I scoff, “That’s exactly what a murderer would say.”
With an amused smirk, he tilts his head and declares, “You could be the murder. How would I know?”
Shade Chronicles
Chapter One Text Sample (09/23/2021)
Who can honestly define evil? It's all just perspective, really. No one really knows the lines from what is evil and what isn't. People delight in their own happiness and frolic in the tragedy of others, and some sacrifice what happiness they could have for the fulfillment of others that they can never meet. I find it truly tragic, and yet, I'd be a hypocrite to say anything against their actions, as I too, have embraced the selfishness of my own happiness. Vengeance, which I have run to many times before. Time and time again no matter who was begging me to become my best self. I'm ready to tell you the story of how I became evil by all definitions. But to do that, we have to go back to where it began.
A modest life, where I at one time was the furthest from evil I would ever be, but the lines between evil and good are blurred. An evil act is committed in the name of good, and it's considered justified. Praised, even. I lived with my mother and father along with my brother William and baby sister Sophia Aileen. To give you an idea of who we are, our last name is Sterling, though if you don't know, be assured that you'll find out in my story. You'll probably even come to know my brother as a hero, even, as laughable as the fact sounds to me. But, in the beginning, our life wasn't extraordinary. My family and I lived a very mundane life, no excitement, and it was a good one. Simple, at times tough, but ultimately sweet. I still think about those simplistic times when I'm in anguish before the rage takes control without question. Our parents betrayed us! We would be dead if we didn't find a way to help ourselves. However...I'm getting ahead of myself. Like I said, we had a very simple life. In fact, William and I would help our father chop firewood, hunt for prey that we could make dinner with, fetch some water, etc. At least while he was still well enough to do those things, but as he got more ill, he would be bound to just sit on the porch or work in the kitchen with mother. William and I would even be sent to the market to fetch things like milk and cheese since my father became more and more frail as time passed. I never knew why he was so weak, why he couldn't do as much as me and William, however it never mattered. We were taught that since we were able, we could and therefore should carry the weight he couldn't. It felt like every passing year he took a small step towards the worse. None of us could stop it, and though I felt my mother knew exactly what was happening, neither of my parents would say. Neither of them cared to give us the certainty that I craved to know. The certainty of if my father would ever pull through or if he would die. Cruel thoughts, befitting thoughts they seemed, as I look back. As I said, it was a good and simplistic life, however..... There's just one more detail I need to mention, a small imperfection that I'd soon like to forget but never can. It's the reason my mind leads me to rage immediately right after the smooth calmness starts to soothe me. My brother and I are magic and so is our sister Sophia Aileen-or so we assumed-but William and I suppressed our magic as much as possible because magic is forbidden in our home.
Madness chapter one text sample (02/03/2020)
The music pulses in my ears as the sun descends from the sky. I peek at the gray wolf sitting there at the edge of the woods, maybe five feet from me. It glances at me every so often, but this time it’s just looking to the left. The trees are emerald green, some starting to turn red and yellow as the fall is starting to approach. It’s still warm enough to wear a white tank top and silky floral shorts.
I return to my painting, finishing the last stroke just as the wolf runs off. I take a headphone out, smiling. It’s the ghost of a smile, long ago passed.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I already know who it is, and I sigh as I look at the most recent text:
---Isabelle, please talk to me. I saw you punch Rebecca, and I know you got suspended. Please, help me understand. Please, stop cutting me out.---
It’s Curtis.
What is there to say to someone you stopped speaking to for no reason at all?
“Gorgeous,” a charming voice behind me swoons.
I turn to the source of the voice just as my phone buzzes again though this time I ignore it. It’s obvious who is trying to contact me. Curtis makes an effort to message me every day, sometimes a handful of times, though I never respond even though I read the attempts.
Instead I’m looking at the source of this flirtatious voice.
“Excuse me?” I snap, my eyes fixed on the guy leaning against the nearest tree. He has flashy golden hair with brown eyes. The light
hits them in a way that makes them look like the dark amber of pancake syrup. He’s tall with tan skin and a square jaw, a coy smile across his face.
“I meant the picture,” he asserts before looking to the sky. “This place isn’t easy to find.”
“I like adventures,” I remark with a casual shrug. “Besides, when you’re looking for a place to be completely alone, you get creative
when you look for someplace.”