Two brides. A love to die for.
Let corpses litter the cathedral, drained bodies taking the place of roses. For one way or another-
Vows will be exchanged.
_________
Sapphic vampire-werewolf erotica, loosely based on Bram Stoker's Dracula. This got...
The Kenworthy house is large and imposing. Marienne walks through the front door like she's walking towards her deathbed. The footmen in matching livery bow as she passes by, already acting like she is the lady of the house.
As she enters the Great Hall, the massive chandelier catches on the thick collar of diamonds on her neck, throwing refracted light in a dapple of steel grey. Their family may be destitute but Mother would sooner sell her than sell their jewels.
The older Lady Cleremont sticks close to Marienne's side. She's decked out in an ostentatious amount of jewels to the point of being gaudy. Large sapphire earrings pull down the lobes of her ears with their weight. They match the colour of her beady blue eyes, so very similar to Marienne's and yet so hard and calculating in a way that Marienne hopes hers would never be.
The older Lord and Lady Kenworthy are standing by the greet them, but their children are nowhere to be seen. When Marienne curtsies to her future in-laws, everyone turns to look. A buzz of whispers and excited chatter permeates the hall. Mothers look at her with barely concealed jealousy, prodding their own unmarried daughters who look upon Marienne with sullenness and begrudging deference.
A sea of well-wishers gather around them with silver tongues and envious eyes. The older Lady Cleremont is almost bouncing in joy. The most fashionable and wealthy of the nobility have never spared them a second look before. With Marienne's recent engagement, their family has skyrocketed into the innermost circle of the elite.
Marienne feels like an exotic animal trapped in a cage, gawped at by the finest of London's ton. Old Lady Crawley is hobbling towards them on her walking stick. A spinster in her late sixties, she's still respected by their peerage for being of a wealthy family with good connections.
Lady Crawley holds her opera glasses up to her nose. "My, you're a pretty thing! No wonder you managed to snatch a husband during your first season. You must be so proud, Lady Cleremont!"
Her mother preens under the praise. "But of course! My daughter is the cream of the crop." She strokes her fingers through the ends of Marienne's blonde hair like it's her own. It makes Marienne tense her shoulders.
"Ah! But there's the lucky Lord Kenworthy!" Lady Crawley cries.
Marienne turns to see Charles striding across the room. He cuts an imposing figure with his broad shoulders and above average height. The ladies around him titter and Marienne tries hard to arrange her features into something pleasant.
He bows when he comes to a stop in front of her. "Lady Cleremont. I trust you were pleased when you heard the news."
Her mother prods her back and Marienne gracefully inclines her head. "My Lord."
Inside, her blood boils at the smug expression on his face. Charles knows. Charles knows her family is in financial difficulty. He knows her parents were desperate to get her a match. He wanted to swoop in and be their savior, claiming her as his wife and being praised for his generosity in doing so.
For why else would he not pick any of the other ladies swooning over him? He wants someone with no options and no better prospects. Who will bow to his every word, feeling such a sense of overwhelming gratitude towards him that she will gladly obey him for the rest of her life.
Marienne wants to rip out his throat.
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I absolutely loved this cute "Message in a Bottle" romance! You can find it on the profile right here—> Spruce_Goose
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When sixteen-year-old Eli Webster finds a message tucked inside a glass bottle, he doesn't expect to find himself writing letters to the mysterious Samuel Owens.
