Fiona’s Fury by Roxy Blue
Publication date: March 12th 2024
Genres: Adult, Comedy,
Genres: Adult, Comedy,
Synopsis:
This chilling but hysterically sardonic thrill-ride is hard to put down. Smart, sexy, and deeply revelatory, it will send you on an enthralling emotional journey you won’t forget.
Fiona Turner, CEO of Fiona’s Flowers floral shop, hasn’t the time nor inclination to bother with men until she finally meets the face on the other end of the phone. Having remained friends, she never suspected her ex-husband, Quade, would morph into a terrifying, controlling, law-bending monster. When Fiona exhibits the first signs of wanting to move on in life, he threatens to take everything from her. A long weekend at a conference answers all of Fiona’s questions about floral supplier, Bo Thompson, except how she can possibly have him. She’ll never know what she’s missing unless she risks everything for love.
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EXCERPT: “So...how are the vibes in my house tonight? Better than back at your place?” I ask, since Holly
apparently is pretty tuned in to me.
“Actually...I don’t know. I feel like we need to meditate. I’m sure there’s something going on with
me and the moon tonight. I don’t feel really comfortable anywhere.” Her intuitive admonition
gives me a bad chill.
“It’s not just you,” I mumble.
Holly gives me an intense look and slight nod, like she knows there’s something ‘off’ about me.
“So what’s your story? Insomnia too?” she asks.
“Yeah...I get this way during the full moon sometimes.”
She looks at me with apprehension. Apparently she ain’t buying what I’m selling. “Okay, I would
assume you’re just excited about next weekend except you don’t look excited. You look like a
frazzled alleycat. Are you nervous about meeting that guy?”
Bo is the absolute last thing I want to talk about right now. “Oh...no,” I say, casually swatting my
hand to blow off the thought. “No, you were right. I was being silly over nothing at all. I have zero
interest in meeting any man these days, much less some limp wristed flower vendor.” I nod a
few times to drive my point home. I’m done with the flower guy.
“Oh hon, when are you gonna get out there and find someone to date again?”
“Hey, you were the one who knocked me for my enthusiasm over meeting flower vendors. And
I’m only interested in expanding my friends within the industry anyway.”
“That’s not what it sounded like when you told me about that guy,” she says with a smile.
“I’m sorry Holly, you misread me is all.” Holly frowns slightly and shrugs. “Are you getting sleepy
yet?” I ask right after Holly’s first yawn.
“Yeah...I think I might be. Any chance you’d be comforted by sharing a bed tonight?”
“Yes!” I blurt out with more enthusiasm than she was probably expecting.
“Okay,” Holly replies, laughing at me. “Shall we go to your room?”
“No!...sorry. I accidentally broke something in there earlier and there’s glass shards in the
carpet.”
“Oh, please, let me help you clean it up Fiona. I’m sure it would take five minutes and then we’ll
only be more ready for sleep.”
There’s nothing in me that wants to re-enter my bedroom tonight. “Let’s not...seriously, we might
have to dig tiny shards out or something. Honestly, I haven’t even looked at the wreckage.”
And with that, Holly rises from the bed and marches straight out of the office, down the hall, and
into my bedroom as though in a trance. Arriving just before me, she flicks on the light and her
jaw drops.
“Oh my goodness,” she says, covering her mouth with her hands. “How did you...drop your
lamp?” As she turns around, I can see her confusion.
“I kind of...had a nightmare.” The words come out in the faintest whisper.
“Fifi...why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to freak you out more. And I lied about the attic earlier. The place is neat as a pin. I
just didn’t wanna go up there.”
“Understood,” she says, nodding grimly. “But...how can this be?”
“It’s simple. I woke up from a bad dream and threw my lamp before I could come to full
consciousness.”
AUTHOR BIO:
Raised in the South and transplanted to a midwestern New Age community, Roxy Blue writes about the types of down-to-earth characters that dispel the notion of romance being rubbish. After thirteen years as an exotic dancer, she developed a rare autoimmune arthritis that gave her an excuse to settle down and focus more on writing, although she still hoopdances and hikes on the good days. Roxy lives in Asheville, NC with the kind of hunk she likes to read about, and their two ridiculous cats.
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