Hi, I’m Sable Roux.

Author, cryptid freak, outdoor lover and coffee addict.

I’m the one with the long dark hair (tips usually dipped in some moody plum or crimson that looks killer in low evening sun), skinny enough that people ask if I live on fresh air and caffeine alone (close enough), a tiny gold nose ring.I’m the one with the long dark hair (tips usually dipped in some moody plum or crimson that looks killer in low evening sun), skinny enough that people ask if I live on fresh air and caffeine alone (close enough), a tiny gold nose ring.

These days I mostly live out of a slightly knackered van, roaming the quieter bits of the UK: early-morning hikes on mist-shrouded trails in the Lakes or the Peaks. Spending nights pitched deep in woodlands where the only neighbours are badgers and the occasional too-curious fox, mornings hunched over my laptop with a steaming mug of proper strong black coffee. Bitter heat that wakes every nerve. I’m not trekking out to hunt cryptids or stake out sightings. I crave how the wild places strip everything back to basics. The quiet lets the stories unfurl without interruption, the fresh air sharpens the edges of whatever twisted scene I’m writing.

I’ve been hooked on cryptids and the supernatural since I was a kid, raiding the local library for anything with blurry photos or eyewitness sketches: Bigfoot’s massive prints, Mothman’s red eyes, the chilling wendigo tales that made me pull the duvet over my head. I never shook it off. Then I discovered monster romance and—fuck me—the way it turned that primal shiver of fear into something raw and aching. I tore through every book I could find… and kept coming away unsatisfied. The monsters felt watered down, the heat fizzled out too quickly, and the encounters didn’t leave me wrecked in the best way.

So I started writing the ones I actually wanted to read.

What I Write

Dark, atmospheric, shamelessly filthy stories where the boundary between terror and lust vanishes. Where the creature doesn’t just lurk in the shadows. It steps forward, claims you with deliberate slowness. Fear and desire are the same pounding rhythm. Claws tracing skin just hard enough to mark, scales sliding hot and slick, growls that rumble through your core and make your thighs clench.

When I’m not lost in those worlds, you’ll probably find me parked up somewhere with zero bars, also brewing another vicious black coffee over the camp stove, sprawled on a blanket or the van roof with my notebook or laptop, letting the wind through the trees bleed straight into the prose. I’m a bit all over the place (fine, a lot), endlessly nosy about the impossible, and zero regrets about craving monsters that are possessive, primal, and very fucking skilled.

Thanks for wandering into my shadows with me. Grab a decent brew. Things are about to get intense.

My new series of books features Elara Voss, a clumsy, disorganised, quirky, and hot woman. A true believer she runs a small blog reporting cryptid sightings. One day, she gets an offer that will either get her killed or might just change her life.

#SableRoux #ElaraVoss #CryptidRomance #CryptidFucking

Coming Soon

— Sable Roux