Dear Reader,
The following work was found sealed in the library of a castle, belonging to an ancient noble family, in the Champagne region to the east of Paris. The dates of the events contained within are attributed to sometime in the 18th century. It appears that any other record of the Marquis featured within, and the estate that he kept, have since been expunged from historical record. It is as if there was an omertà (conspiracy of silence) which sought to erase him entirely from collective memory - one that might have succeeded if not for the astonishing recovery of these letters.
It has been my duty to act as caretaker to this work since I agreed to its restoration. I have found, regrettably, that my colleagues have failed to grasp the momentous importance of these letters and their wider significance. There is, I admit, some question of authenticity that requires consideration. For my part, I have forcible reasons to believe that these letters are genuine. I have submitted the work to a broader audience, however, for precisely this object; I have hope that, by breaking outside the narrow remit of literary academia, I may yet find a willing readership committed to studying these letters as seriously as I have.
As the Judge might once have heard it, so the Reader shall hear it now.
Unfortunately, I must also include a notice of warning: the letters of Charlotte B--- speak of diabolical horrors and the direst human cruelty. I believe that, were these letters recognised, they would take the place as the first of the modern écritures maudits (damned writings), above de Sade or Corbière. Hence, I recognise that such subject matter is certainly not for everyone.
Should you decide to turn to more pleasant reading, I certainly could not blame you. The world can be a sombre and unforgiving place without having to reflect on its grimmest parts.
The choice to continue, Reader, is entirely your own.
Yours faithfully,
Dr. Samuel J. Collins
He watched as her eyes skimmed over his dark eyes and black hair with barely a reaction. He felt his pride twinge a bit so he went further. Lifting his hands, he let the blood drip from them. Her eyes widened slightly and her chin rose. She looked at his hands then back at him. His dark eyes gleamed in a challenge.
"You've not harmed me or mine, faery." She spoke out loud. "Blood does not scare me and neither do you. Keep your dog on its leash." Then she turned and calmly walked back inside. Intrigued now, he went to the window of the house and watched as she reassured her mother that the dog was gone
"I'll see you tonight, reckless child." He promised softly.
****
Marcus felt himself beginning to wake and struggled to stay in the dream. But it was no use. His eyes opened and he released the pillow his hand was gripping. It was the same one that she had laid her head on every night. His head went into the pillow heavily for a moment, breathing in her faint scent. He hated and treasured dreams like that with equal fervor. He rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling.
It had been decades since she'd been forced to break that promise. He lifted his hand and touched the ring that had been her last gift. It had been decades, but it was yesterday.
***I did not skimp on the steamy scenes so consider yourselves warned ok? There are also a few violent scenes that I'll try to remember to put a warning before so you'll have a heads up. Any of the pictures/artwork were found online so I reserve no rights to those just the story. But I do reserve all rights to the story. This story runs concurrently with "Bloody Desire" and "All Roads Lead to Rome"
Awesome new book cover is courtesy of @ScarlettOlivier. She's awesome. Check her stuff out.