Wednesday, October 12, 2022

A Poem from the Journal of Onyx Webb by Diandra Archer, Author of The Ghost Circus: An Onyx Webb Supernatural Thriller @RoxanneRhoads @OnyxWebb #Poetry

A Poem from the Journal of Onyx Webb

Alive Again

I want to be alive again, feel wind blow through my hair.

Take a deep, glorious breath, have my lungs fill up with air.

I even want to feel the pain as thorns draw drops of blood.

Run outside in a pouring rain, dance barefoot in the mud.

What good is hearing music when you cannot sense the beat?

What purpose does passion serve for a soul that feels no heat?

Why pray for more tomorrows when your present is such hell?

Why hope to one day fall in love if you have no heart to swell?

There was a time when I believed that I would do it all—
Climb the Eiffel Tower; walk China’s long Great Wall.

Dance on my wedding night, in the arms of the perfect man,

But life did not turn out that way, for fate had other plans.

What good is one more day on Earth? I ask myself again.

I know that I was happy once yet cannot remember when.

Why continue on this way, doing nothing but survive?

Why stay among the living, simply dying to be alive?

-Onyx Webb
Crimson Cove, Oregon

The Ghost Circus: An Onyx Webb Supernatural Thriller
Diandra Archer

Genre: Paranormal Thriller
Publisher: Lust for Living
Date of Publication: July 26, 2022
ISBN: 978-1947814226 
Number of pages: 280
Word Count: 64,000
Cover Artist: Alex at

Tagline: If You Think Life is Precious, Just Wait Until You’re Dead

About the Book: 

A ragtag traveling circus sits outside a small California town. Two hundred miles north, the rumors of Onyx Webb, a legendary ghost, are "alive and well" in the seaside hamlet of Crimson Cove, Oregon.

After mysterious deaths occur in both places, the FBI gets involved. By the time the circus travels to Crimson Cove, the little town is starting to unravel. It's one thing to stop people from committing crimes, but how do you stop ghosts?

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Onyx existed in a constant state of guilt over what she considered to be stealing the best years of Noah’s life. What some would call robbing the cradle or being what was currently called a cougar.

It was the opposite of the norm, in which men had a tendency to date and marry younger women.

When Onyx brought up the topic, Noah pointed out how it was no longer a big deal for couples to have differences in their age. “Age is just a number,” Noah would say, having pointed out the age difference between Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher. “She’s like 15 years older than he is.”

First, Onyx had absolutely no idea who these people were since she never watched television. And the 15-year age difference paled in comparison to their ages since Onyx was 114 and Noah was still in his 30s.

The thing that made the age difference livable, no pun intended, was that ghosts appeared as the age they were on the day they died and returned as their perfect selves. No scars or blemishes or wrinkles. Even severed limbs reappeared.

She may have been 114 years old, but in terms of appearance, Onyx looked 39.

And as a ghost, she would be 39 forever.

Assuming she could get the energy.

Onyx watched as Noah took advantage of the last bit of daylight, shirt off—sweating and swearing when the rocks wouldn’t fit together—his skin glistening with sweat and red with color.

Onyx held up her hand and examined it. Unlike Noah’s, her skin was gray. Transparent.

When she held the hand up to her face, she could see right through it.


Tonight, she would go to the hospital and see if there was anyone whose time had come. If there wasn’t, she would go into town and look for an addict shooting up in a dark alley—the kind that could be found in all towns, even small ones like Crimson Cove.

She had no problem taking drug addicts. They were killing themselves, anyway. If they wanted to die, she was happy to help them along.

Those who were young and healthy? No. Onyx’s code would not allow it. They were off-limits.

And children? Never.

Onyx walked to the opposite side of the lighthouse and peered out toward the water, seeing thin red lines of red forming as the sun was being slowly swallowed by the ocean.

Soon it would be dark. It was time.

Meet the Author:

Diandra Archer is the pen name for professional speakers and best-selling authors, Richard Fenton and Andrea Waltz. Richard and Andrea have been entrepreneurs, writing and publishing non-fiction business books for over twenty years. Onyx Webb is their first fiction book series. They live in Central Florida with their cat Storey, and newly adopted senior dog, Peppers. Diandra Archer is a combination of both of their first names. 

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