“The Treemakers” Teaser Gallery

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“The Treemakers” (YA Dystopian Scifi Horror) is now available. Click here to check out reviews or order on Amazon.

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“The Treemakers” (YA Dystopian Scifi Horror) is now available. Click here to check out reviews or order on Amazon.

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“The Treemakers” (YA Dystopian Scifi Horror) is now available. Click here to check out reviews or order on Amazon.

“Are You Here for the Frogs? Because You Can’t Have Them. They’re All I’ve Got.”

Short fiction by

 Christina L. Rozelle



It felt colder in the room that day.

Lucy knew they were trying to kill her, and freezing her was one of the many ways they tried to do it. But that day was different. Along with the usual frigidness, came a quaking emptiness that she couldn’t quite place. The girl that had come by, supposedly to keep her company, went on and on about this love between two people Lucy had never met. She was unsure why the girl was telling her such things. It was none of her business and she could hardly relate. She couldn’t remember if she had ever experienced anything like that in her life. All she could remember now, was the harsh climate of her home, the ever-present loneliness . . . and the frogs.

The frogs were her friends. If she moved too quickly around the room, she’d startle them, so Lucy was sure to remind all who entered to watch for them. And when they told her the frogs weren’t real, she kept quiet, because she knew they were just trying to trick her. They were always trying to trick her.

“Gran? Are you all right?” the girl asked.

Lucy nodded, rocking faster in her chair, keeping an eye on Jasper, the mammoth toad who hid behind her trashcan. She remained cautious as the girl continued, rambling on about the time the man came home from four long years at the war, and how the woman had knitted him the ugliest winter sweater on the planet, but the man loved her so much he wore it proudly anyway. The girl laughed softly as she opened a photo album in her lap.

“I don’t know whose this is, do you?” she asked, running her fingers along a lock of hair. “I can’t read the writing beside it.”

“How would I?” Lucy asked.

The girl’s face tightened with pain, which confused Lucy. Why was this stranger so emotional over things that she knew nothing about? Her eyes wandered to an unfamiliar painting of a young couple, frozen in their laughter, and she wondered what they were laughing about. It made Lucy very sad but she didn’t know why.

“Aww . . .” The girl knelt by Lucy’s side and took her cool, wrinkled hand, cupping it inside her young palms. “I always wondered what you two were laughing at.”

“Oh, that’s not me.” Lucy tried to see why the girl would mistake the woman in it for her.

“Gran, it is you. It’s you and your husband, Dale, my Grandpa. That picture was painted on your honeymoon, fifty-seven years ago.”

Lucy stared at her, feeling the sudden rage she felt when she knew someone was trying to trick her. Tears filled her eyes, blurring the girl’s face. She tightened her trembling fists. “No! You’re lying to me!” She turned away from the horrible picture and her eyes landed on the tiny locket beside her bed. Her chest heaved and swelled as she took it in her hands and opened it.

The girl cried softly beside her.

Lucy looked from the man in the tiny gold heart to the girl . . .

. . . And then, a light turned on somewhere.

“Annette?” Lucy whispered.

The girl cried harder and wrapped her arms around Lucy’s neck.

“You’re my . . . my granddaughter . . . .”

Annette nodded and kissed Lucy’s cheek.

Lucy looked down at the man in the gold heart. She tilted her head slightly to the right, daring to look at the picture on the wall again. And then, she knew. Lucy closed the locket up tight inside her palm. How could she forget?

Dale was a great man. There was never a day that went by that he didn’t do something for someone else. He was a war hero, a teacher, a giver, a lover . . . . But most of all, he was her best friend for fifty-seven years.

“He’s . . . gone?” Lucy asked.

Annette nodded, tears trailing her cheeks.

“Please,” Lucy begged. “Please don’t let me forget my Dale. I don’t want to be without my Dale,” she pleaded, holding her granddaughter as tight as her weak arms could manage.

Annette sobbed into her grandma’s lap. Because she knew there was nothing she could do. It was only a matter of time.

As Lucy squeezed the locket, drenching her granddaughter’s shoulder with her tears, Jasper hopped out from behind the trashcan and shook his head at her.

“Wait. . . .” Lucy pushed Annette back, held her at arm’s length. “Who are you? Are you here for the frogs? Because you can’t have them. They’re all I’ve got.”


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To preorder Christina’s Upper YA Dystopian Sci-Fi novel, “The Treemakers,” releasing on December 3, 2014, follow this link.

To My Future Readers: You Were Always My Spark in the Dark

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As I sit quietly in this virtual dark room alone, I remember the darknesses of my past. Like so many people, the road I traveled most of my life was bleak, sunless, riddled with hopelessness and despair. Whether you are young or old, surely there are many of you who can relate to this. Depression. Addiction. Abuse. Grief. Loss. Anger. Rage. Confusion. That destruction you sometimes bring upon yourself because you think, somehow, you deserve it. Maybe you don’t even realize yet you are thinking this. If you’re young, like I was when I started down that dark road, you may have tons of conflicting thoughts and feelings, spinning around inside you like a mighty whirlwind of mass devastation. That internal combustion which can only be tamed with things like utter disregard, loud music, wild (and often dangerous) spontaneity, self-harm, and escape in all forms. I’ve been there.

Maybe you’ve never felt like this, but you know someone who has…. There’s darkness all around and inside of each of us, though some are better at balancing it, releasing it in a healthy manner. For most of my life I felt this darkness was an enemy, an intruder, a parasite which gobbled up my light and cackled at my inadequacies. What I later learned, was that the thing killing me slowly from the inside was my own voice, that I was my own worst enemy and critic. After years of suicidal depression, after my fourth child came into the world, I finally turned my back on the misery and hell and stepped into the light for good. There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not super grateful for that. Now I can see where the error in my thinking was, but also, I see how what I went through in my past is fueling my life, and painting my fiction bright and real and full of life today.

800px-Northwest_Crown_Fire_ExperimentPerhaps I should clarify. Darkness isn’t bad. It is a necessary part of the balance of light. Neither would exist without the other. The key word here, is balance. Sometimes learning how to balance darkness and light takes time. Just as Controlled burning stimulates the germination of some desirable forest trees, thus renewing the forest (See pic), experiencing darkness in our own lives can clear the way for some powerful realizations, self-discoveries, beliefs, and talents, as we push ourselves to grow through challenging times. Like a good hero or heroin in a great story, it’s in those times that we see what we are truly made of.


I tell you all of this so that you’ll know me, but also, because there are things I learned from the path I traveled in my life, and I want to share them with you. As you travel along your own path, maybe something I say here might help you in some way. And I hope, ultimately, you realize that you are in control of your own destiny. You have the power to make good in your life. You have the seed of success, happiness, love, and creative talent within you, and if you choose to move into the light, you must water those things which bring more light, and give them room to grow.

There is something I want you to know . . . You were always there for me, and I will always be there for you.

The beautiful thing about our relationship is that I can be across the world from you and still touch your heart. You were there for me in my darkest days, some of you before you were even born. As I cried into my journal pages, wondering who on Earth I was talking to… I realize now, it was you. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, I had decided I would give my heart and soul to you, my innermost dreams and fears, because they were too big for me alone to carry.

As I spoke to you on those pages, you were the only one who truly listened. You didn’t judge me as I scrawled lousy writing mechanics and poor spelling with terrible handwriting. Cliche after cliche, through the inky black waterfall of angst, self-pity, self-imposed misery, you were patient. You let me lay my head on your shoulder and drench your shirt with my tears, because you knew…. Someday I’d grow my wings, and be ready to let my words flow and fly into the world, having been sculpted by the thought of you, as well as perseverance, determination, and willingness to change and grow.

You-could-also-pick-this-one-to-let-your-desktop-glow-from-a-bit-Now they return to you, with so much gratitude, ready to meet face to face for the first time. And I promise I will do my best to repay you for the light you’ve always given me. Your soul, hungry for adventure, for love and a hero, the universal truths of the world spelled out in a story that only I can write. This has driven me to become the best person and writer–the best storyteller–I can be.

Thank you. I will always do my best not to let you down. ❤

But promise me you won’t give up on yourself. You have something special in you that is begging to be cultivated. Follow your bliss, no matter what. If you’re feeling alone, whether you are a “writer” or not, keeping your thoughts and feelings in a journal can help to make sense of what’s going on inside of you. Or make art, music, dance, meditate, give yourself to whatever your heart is calling you toward. There, you will find your belonging. There, you will realize that you were never really alone, you just hadn’t yet found your “place” to become truly acquainted with yourself.

We’re all allowed to have moments of weakness, but we must remember to follow them with moments of strength. You have it in you to be great. You can do it. Don’t ever forget that.

❤ Christina

Cocoa-Seedling“For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out, and everything changes. To someone who doesn’t understand growth, it would look like complete destruction.”
– Cynthia Occelli




Here are all of my social media links; please feel free to follow/fan/friend/join etc. I do my best to #followback my readers!! Please say hello, and that you are a reader of my work, and I’ll be sure to respond ASAP. 🙂 ❤

Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1W3ww1E                                                                                                            Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1f4Km1u                                                                              Twitter: Christina on Twitter (@CLRozelle)                                         Instagram: ChristinaLRozelle                                                                                                Google+: http://bit.ly/1Kua9Mb                                                                                                                                                                        A Spark in the Dark Blog: https://clrozelle.wordpress.com/                                                             A Spark in the Dark Facebook Page: http://bit.ly/1JSEmWz                                                    Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/cl.rozelle                                                            Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/clrozellesouth                                              Spotify: http://bit.ly/1FwgqSr                                                                                                           Pinterest: http://bit.ly/1CDPgHb                                              Wattpad: http://w.tt/1GW0lW2