Scalding

Scalding

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Jan 10, 2015
Black. The ominous atmosphere rattled me in my state of disorientation. Black. A burst of white, hot light erupted around me and exploded through the air. Black. My hands. They were my hands. Why did I lose control? Why me? Black. A panicked male rushed to me and stopped about a yard short. Black. One phrase was his sole offering, "Hold on." Black. His fist clenched and a wave of pressure slammed my body backwards onto the ground. Sweet blackness. ✧✧✧ This is a paranormal novel written on the difference in finding yourself and inventing yourself.
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He had spent centuries with only himself for company, he fed, tortured and killed that was his life and he liked it that way, until she came along and stirred something in him, something he couldn't and wouldn't accept. “If I were you I’d keep that stake sharp. Don’t expect anymore visits like this, next time I come I expect you to use that thing,” he told her pointing to the stake on the bed, and then he was gone.

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