Author: Natalie Bennett
Genre: dark erotica
Everyone knows the story where the beautiful girl getstaken by a monster. The one where the monster endsup being some poor tortured soul with a fucked up past. Love prevails, and then they live happily ever fuckingafter.
Well, this is my story, and it isn’t a fairytale.
I loved my monster too. But that was before he took me.
My reality is dark.
His demons are darker.
Mercy is NOT for the faint of heart.
Goodreads link: http://bit.ly/2kwQUtG
Purchase link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/703220
(Banned on Kobo, iBooks & Amazon)
I hated to admit it, but I was a sucker for a goodpsychopath. The sinister, mischievous smile alwaysseemed to get me. It didn't help that some of my ownscrews got knocked loose awhile ago.
But I was a good person once.
Being a good person ruined my life.
I waited too late in the day to go for my run, but sitting inthe house had made me restless. The knife I had hiddenunderneath the bathroom sink kept whispering for me totake it out. If I didn't leave, I'd end up playing in a puddleof my blood, getting higher than a kite.
So, there I was, jogging down the barren road, Lana DelRey blasting through my earbuds. The sun wasobscuring my vision, but even partially blinded I couldsee the dog in the middle of the street. And the car thatwas approaching, speeding up instead of slowing down.
My moral obligation had me sprinting to scoop thebrown and white bundle into my arms. Tires screeched, Iscreamed, and the car swerved around me. If mybladder had been full, I would've pissed my pants.
I pulled the earphones out in time to hear a sleuth ofexpletives come from inside the large muscle car. Thedriver had stopped over on the side of the road; his onceshiny vehicle now covered in dust. The smell of burntrubber lingered in the humid air.
Casting a nervous glance back at the classic car, Iassessed the dog in my arms and began walking up thestreet on shaky legs. Away from the angry driver.
The engine revved and tires spun. With a speed thathad dust particles rising back into the air, the car zippedpassed me just so the driver could cut me off. I had avague idea of who the driver was.
"What the fuck are you doing?" A man opened the driverdoor and began to get out. My mind flashed with instantrecognition. He had sunglasses on, and I could still feelhis eyes burning holes into me.
"You were going to hit him." I adjusted the small dog inmy arms, feeling his wiry fur scratch against my bareskin.
"So you risked your life for a stupid animal?"
"Don't call him stupid! If you had been driving like anormal person, instead of trying to go fast like a typicaldouche bag with a sports car, you would have seenhim."
"I wouldn't have changed course," he shrugged.
"Then you're a douche bag and an asshole. Congratulations." I glared at him and walked passed thetrunk, feeling his eyes follow me.
"Morgana," said a deep voice with an intoxicatingamount of sultriness. The amusement in his tone nowthat he realized who I was irritated me.
"Fucking awesome," I muttered, turning to face him. Ofall people to come in contact with on a barren countryroad, I run into, Julian Andreou.
The sunglasses on his face may have prevented mefrom seeing his eyes. But they didn't hide his prominentjawline, his slight stubble, or the dark eyebrow he hadraised at me.
"I was distracted." He gave me a smile that had deepdimples appearing on his cheeks. Like water on a flame, my immediate anger doused.
"No apology for almost killing me?" He towered abovemy height of five-four, leaving me no choice but to frownup at him. My reflection looked back at me in hisAviators. God, I looked a hot mess. Strands of baylagebrunette hair had escaped my fishtail braid, and a tinybit of perspiration coated my bronze skin.
He reached up and removed his sunglasses, allowingthe full intensity of his gaze to meet mine. His greenhues were smiling, causing my stomach to dip for anentirely different reason.
Julian was a gorgeous, immaculately groomed man, andI knew he was indubitably aware of his attractiveness. His ego didn't need any more strokes, so I always choseto act indifferent. This, in my opinion, is what made himso 'interested' in me.
That weird thing people do where one pulls away, so theother follows. That's what this had to be. He was apatient wolf who wore a suit, and I was the little lamb hewanted to devour.
"I was distracted by staring at you. Something I've beendoing for close to a year now." He enunciated each wordslowly. As if I could ever forget someone like him, kepttrying to ask me out.
He dragged his burning gaze up and down my body. Cognizant I was only wearing a sports bra and tiny yogashorts; the dog became my shield against his ogling.
Shaking my head, I turned on my heel and continuedwalking. Seconds later, a door slammed shut, and hepulled off. I couldn't hide my amused smile when his carpulled up beside me, moving forward at a snail's pace.
"Get in the car, Morgan. I'll take you home," his smoothbaritone voice softly called out to me.
The rumors about his family swirled around in my head. My cheeks heated in shame when I realized what I wasdoing. Judging him. Just like everyone in town did me.
The people who knew the least about you always hadthe most to say. In Riverview, a girl giving a boy a smallkiss on the cheek spun into a story about her givingblowjobs in the church.
It was a quaint town, which wasn't necessarily a badthing unless you were someone like me. A girl that hadbeen smacked with a crazy label.
Riverview gossip spread faster than wildfires. They tooka truth, twisted it, and ran wild with lies. When someonefound out a tidbit of information about me, I wassuddenly a weird recluse that belonged in a freak show.
"Come on, Morgana. I only want to take you home." Hiswords were saturated with double meaning. I glancedover expecting to see his cocky signature smirk, but allhe gave me was a genial smile.
I shouldn't have considered his offer, but I did. My housewas a good thirty minutes away. Satan had lit Hellfireson earth; the heat was kicking my ass, and the dog inmy arms felt like he'd been put in an oven.
"Okay," I omitted, slanting my eyes down to the blacktopand walking around his car. The dog turned its head butdidn't do much else.
Julian climbed out and quickly came around to open thepassenger door for me. Once I was settled into the coolleather seat, he went back to the driver side.
Something in my head was telling me this was a terribleidea.
Natalie Bennett has always been an avid fan of allthings dark and twisted, so it only made sense for her towrite what she loves. She brings to life unapologeticantiheroes you love to hate and strong heroines whorefuse to be broken.
Natalie writes Dark Paranormal & Dark Erotica withromantic elements. She doesn't censor her writing andlet's her stories tell themselves. If you pick up one of herbooks expecting a typical HEA, you won't find one.