In fact, from what I knew of the Hangman, my cries and pleas would only heighten his pleasure…his arousal. retreats like the swiftest torrent, It gives wings of light- Paraphrase of the Litanys evidences a spirit of piety, but not poetry : it ning to. Hysteria wouldn’t help my situation, so I held it in. I squeezed my eyes shut and yanked at the rope, ignoring the pain biting into my wrists. I was only an object to him, something to torture and kill for his perverse pleasure. “No…” My plea came out a squeak, an ineffectual cry for mercy. He shifted, causing the moon’s beam to glint off the cigarette lighter in his hand. He rolled me to my back with rough hands, and his silhouette loomed large, a dark shadow blocking the light of the waning moon. “Where am I?” It wasn’t the question I wanted to ask, the one I could barely think of. I wished I could see him, but I was lying on my stomach, completely vulnerable. The van dipped, and instantly, I knew who entered behind me. Keys jingled from the other side, and the handle squeaked and turned. I ceased to breathe as footfalls drew closer, crunching on gravel with each step. A door creaked open before slamming with an echo. The engine shut off, and I didn’t dare move or make a peep. Come on! I slid my wrists back and forth, and the knot loosened the slightest bit as the van came to a violent stop. “Don’t panic,” I chanted in a whisper as I tested the rope. I couldn’t recall anything beyond a blinding light and an explosion of pain…then nothing. My heart beat out of control as I tried to remember, but I drew a blank. The van bounced over uneven ground, and I held my breath, my ribs hitting the floor hard with each lurch. My cheek rested against the floor of what I assumed was a van, and a putrid smell burned my nose, an odorous mixture of mildew and bleach. Despite the persistent throb at my temples, I focused on the misty recollections the wafting fog on the highway, the beam of a flashlight, the splintering sound of glass.įorcing my eyes open, I met total blackness. I pulled at the bindings, and a low groan vibrated in my throat. My wrists were tied together as were my ankles. The third was the clearest and the most horrifying. The second was the realization that something was wrong.
I awoke in murky stages, the first being a nauseating sense of movement. Your opinions mean a lot to me.Īs always, much thanks to my best friend Crystal, who amazingly still tolerates my madness after all of these years. Thanks to Pam Godwin and Skye Callahan for not only your friendship, but for always being there to shoot the breeze about anything from writer woes to the headache of blurbs. I can’t wait to see what you come up with for the rest of the books in this series. Love your style, lady! Love your friendship even more.
I’ve also got to give props to Rebecca Berto of Berto Designs for creating such an amazing cover. I hope everyone else embraces Epiphany with the same enthusiasm. You guys are the best! I’m so grateful you guys were up for trying something a little different from me. I wanted to test this newer, sexier version of Epiphany on them, and they made this author very happy by agreeing. Much thanks to three of my super fangirls (Momo, Rachel, and Melanie) who’ve loved everything I’ve written in the dark romance genre. Intended for mature audiences due to sexy adult situations, explicit language, and disturbing subject matter.
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Not even the threat of a serial killer can keep me away. I’m already in too deep, and if staying means I’m the next victim of the Hangman’s noose, then so be it. I got this game a good 2-3 years ago forgetting it after a year or so. And so many more things to get like statute pieces. In actual fact, VPNs do much more important things for you online.
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He burrows under my skin and unearths my biggest secret, even as he hides his own demons. In addition to that, VPNs aren’t just for downloading torrents. I’ve always seen things I can’t explain, but the reality of him blindsides me, his mere presence a captivating force I can’t fight. I know him in intimate detail, but I’ve never laid eyes on him. His mahogany gaze haunts my waking hours, his touch ignites my dreams.
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