Who is R.B. Rouge?

Southern Louisiana born. Retired hairdresser, author narrator, and digital creator. Her fiction doesn’t ask for permission—it kicks the door open. Inspired by her roots, but never confined by them.

Born and raised in the deep Bayou swamps of southern Louisiana Rouge’s roots run through bloodlines of hard living, hard truths and holy defiance. Her words are an offering for the ones who’ve lost everything and still lift their eyes for those who love God even when he feels quiet, she writes for the stubborn faithful who refused to quit showing up.

Meet the Outlaw

R.B. Rouge writes like she’s outrunning a curse and testifying at the same time. Her stories bleed Southern shadows — stitched from secrets, scars, and the kind of family you survive by storytelling.

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If the devil’s real, so are cover-ups; I chase both across the bayou.

Why I Laugh So I Don’t Drown

Laughter is my life jacket; the bayou still tries to pull me under.

I learned early the water doesn’t care if you’re innocent. It takes what it’s given—tears, bottles, bodies, secrets—and keeps the surface shiny. So I built my own float: jokes. A slick little raft I could throw under myself when the current kicked up and the past tried to drag my ankle.

Humor isn’t denial; it’s defiance. It’s me cracking wise at the thing that swore it would keep me quiet. When I laugh, I steal oxygen back from the room that went dark—turn the light on, point at the monster, and make him pose for a Polaroid. Smile, demon. You’re in my book now.

I keep holy company: a scarred Bible, and a God who never once asked me to pretty up my testimony. The punchlines come wrapped in scripture and cigarette smoke {I’m almost ready to quit…almost😒}; regardless the truth lands anyway. If the devil is real—and I’ve met his interns—then so is the Creator who keeps handing me breath between waves.

Some days the laugh is a blade. Some days it’s a bridge. Either way, it gets me across. I won’t glorify pain, but I won’t hide from it, either. I’ll name it, frame it, and make it pay rent in story.

Prayer: Lord, keep me standing on the waves and anchored in truth.

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Print Books By: R.B. Rouge

In the Louisiana swamplands, where secrets fester and redemption feels like a knife fight in the dark, Ramey’s family isn’t just cursed—it’s engineered.
Mob ties, military scars, and buried experiments haunt her bloodline, but Ramey’s done running. With a ceramic skull whispering warnings and a cracked doll eye calling the shots, she’s ready to dig up the truth. The swamp’s rot runs deeper than family—it’s stitched into the hymns, baked into the courthouse bricks, and coded in the silences of men who never had to apologize.
To survive, Ramey must unravel the lies, dismantle the legacy, and decide which chains to break—and which ones to pass on.
Both brutal and tender, dark and prophetic, Tobacco-Stained Prayers is the opening chapter of The Hauntborne Files—a Southern Gothic saga where love and ruin walk hand in hand, and every generation must decide what chains to break and what ones to pass on.
Step into the swamp, but tread carefully—When trauma is your inheritance better be damn careful how you spend it.
RB Rouge