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angelarossi (41)in Literatos • 13 days ago
La línea de crédito
Nuestra mejor inversión
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angelarossi (41)in Literatos • 15 days ago
Cláusula de exclusividad
Unidos por un contrato
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angelarossi (41)in Freewriters • 15 days ago
The Coffee Algorithm
Tan dulce como tus labios
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angelarossi (41)in Spooky Zone • 16 days ago
The Weight on My Ankles
¿Qué hay en las profundidades?
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angelarossi (41)in Literatos • 16 days ago
El eco en la almohada
Hay algo o alguien en su interior
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angelarossi (41)in Freewriters • 16 days ago
Biting My Lip
Dulce sabor
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angelarossi (41)in Spooky Zone • 18 days ago
El reverso del papel
Secretos detrás del papel
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angelarossi (41)in Literatos • 18 days ago
Cuestión de masa
¿Esto es real? o...¿Solo mi imaginación?
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angelarossi (41)in Freewriters • 18 days ago
The Floor Joint
El dulce aroma del azufre
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angelarossi (41)in Freewriters • 22 days ago
The House Never Forgets
Las paredes sangran: algo atrapado intenta salir
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angelarossi (41)in Spooky Zone • 24 days ago
The wood creaks
The firewood in the fireplace crackles with a blue spark as outside the wind whips through the tops of the pine trees. I’m alone in the cabin. I brought three books, enough coffee, and the false hope that
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angelarossi (41)in Literatos • 24 days ago
La forma del sesgo
It’s 3:40 in the morning. Screen number four in Ward C flickers with a shower of gray snow before settling down. There’s nothing out of the ordinary in the frame: the isolated room, the bed bolted to the
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angelarossi (41)in Freewriters • 25 days ago
Blind Spot
The wet asphalt swallows the car’s headlights as the broken line on the highway repeats like a racing heartbeat. It’s 3:12. My eyes burn with exhaustion, but the stale music on the radio is the only thing
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angelarossi (41)in #policial • 29 days ago
La pesadilla de Malcom Kipps
El café de la oficina siempre sabe a metal, a papel quemado y a las horas muertas que se me escurren entre los dedos. Tres días sin dormir. Mis ojos no pesan, me arden, como si…
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angelarossi (41)in #terror-psicologico • 29 days ago
"La marca del desconocido" (The Mark of the Stranger)
The wound on my forearm won't close. It’s an irregular groove, a mark that lacks the color of living flesh, bearing instead the hue of damp ash. Sometimes, when the silence of this house becomes so heavy
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angelarossi (41)in #escritora • last month
Presentación
¡Hola! Soy Ángela Rossi, escritora argentina. Me dedico a crear historias de terror psicológico, fantasía oscura, fantasía romántica, policiales y el universo omegaverse de hombres lobo. Comencé mi camino
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