He never called.
He never knocked.
He never once stopped watching.
Twenty thousand words of a man who wrote down every rule he was about to break.
Free. Instant. Unsubscribe whenever you want, no hard feelings.
What You're Getting
Grady Whitlock had four rules. He numbered them. He wrote them down, in pencil, in a blocky evidence hand, and he kept them for six years the way other men keep a faith.
Rule one was never knock. Rule two was never say the true sentence. He held both. He held all four, right up until the night a body turned up in a building she was standing in.
The Back Rail is the six years before No One Skates Out Alive, told entirely from inside his head — the away bouts watched from the cheap seats, the ball cap, the car parked past the dumpsters, the box on the closet shelf that keeps getting heavier. It is not a story about a man learning to be better.
It's a story about a man who is exactly what he is for six years, and writes it down anyway.
Signing up also gets you Welcome to the Crucible — the unauthorized fan guide to Austin Knockout Roller Derby. Skater cards, house teams, the taco truck, and a very small dog with more authority than the board of directors. It spoils nothing and it introduces everybody you're about to lose your mind over.
You'll Also Get
- An email when there's something worth sending. A book, a bonus scene, a content note.
- Content notes up front, always, so Chapter One is never where you find out.
- Bonus scenes and character shorts, occasionally, unannounced.
- Nothing on Tuesdays. Ask me about Tuesdays sometime.
This is dark romance, and the darkness is real. The Back Rail is six years of non-consensual surveillance told from the point of view of the man doing it. It is meant to unsettle you. It never excuses him, and he never once excuses himself.
Not present, here or in anything I write:Harm to animals. Ever. Humans are fair game.
Who's Writing This
Raven Nightfall writes dark romance for people who want the knife and the punchline. Her men are obsessive, her women are unimpressed, and nobody in her books gets a happy ending they didn't have to argue for out loud. She lives with her bette half, too many notebooks, and a spoiled doberman.
Holiday Slay is seven holidays, seven bodies, and one roller derby league that refuses to fold. It starts with No One Skates Out Alive — October 15.
Your email stays with me. No spam, no sharing, no nonsense.