Now, I've been hungover before. Arguably more than most. I've experienced the entire spectrum of complicated euphoria that comes with drinking until you can't stand. I've witnessed things that upon reflection, no sober human being could even begin to comprehend through the kaleidoscopic of lens of Dutch courage. There has been very little I couldn't chalk up to the consequences of my own actions while recovering from a particularly heavy night of partying. But as the stranger in front of me demanded for me to stop, his entire appearance morphed into something monstrous. And I can honestly say, that was a first for me. The air grew thin as I began to shake uncontrollably, a rotten cold sweat breaking out across my skin as my tongue simultaneously turned to ash in my mouth. His pupils had blown to an unearthly size, the whites of his eyes rapidly growing blood shot before flooding with thick, burgundy splotches, removing any trace of humanity. Dark veins of blues and purples bulged along his neck, darkening to a perturbing black as they crawled along his jawline and burst forth from his orifices, joining a tangled web beneath his skin. His canines which had already been relatively prominent, extended even further, their sudden evolution an inescapable indicator of their deadliness. His head morphed and elongated just past the point of natural, jaw clenching and sickening cracks looming as I stood frozen in stock horror fear. Everything in my body screamed that what I was witnessing was just wrong. That if there was a God, this creature was the antithesis. I was in the presence of the ultimate predator and I was one swipe away from having my throat ripped out. The man I'd only a few minutes earlier considered attractive, had become one of the vilest creatures I'd ever seen. Definitely not a crackhead. "Holy f*cking crap!" -------------------------------------------------------------------- British ex-military meets the supernatural.

Cursed by the Moon. Alone. She can only survive. *** Try to read this story, you might be surprised. *I do not own the rights to the cover's picture. Pinterest picture modified with great care and love by @Major-Dice #2 #projectwomanup 26/08/19 #1 #moon 08/09/19 #1 #sun 15/01/2021

Copyrighted 2017 *Completed* Highest rankings: #6 in Werewolf #1 in Wolves #3 in Featured He was said to be powerful, the most powerful of them all. A king of kings- a dark king. Complete control. He needed it- thrived on it. He was power, he was dark, and he was beautiful. They say he was a descendant of the first wolves- of shapeshifters so fierce they could kill with barely a glance. He was respected, revered. Feared. The King of the North. And we were the idiots sneaking into his territory. *Not your typical werewolf book* --please reframe from hateful comments directed at me or other readers who enjoy the story. *This book has no sexually mature scenes and is PG-13* *This book has nothing to do with The Game of Thrones, and is not a fanfic of any kind*

Skylar lives in a world where her pack is slowly and deliberately being obliterated by the merciless Black Mountains Pack, led by their vicious and cruel Alpha, Gabriel. So what happens when she learns that the tyrant Gabriel is her soul mate? Soon, Skylar will discover that there is much more to Gabriel than meets the eye, and there are dark forces surrounding them that will put both of their packs in great danger. --- ((IMPORTANT: I am going to start editing this, slowly, chapter by chapter. I feel like my writing has improved drastically since I began work on this book, and I'd love for My Dark Knight to reflect that. I do want to get it published one day, so the book may be going through some minor changes, though nothing drastic, at least on Wattpad... )) This story has been completed as of 10/14/13. All rights reserved.