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Nightfall

In this thought-provoking narrative, a group of individuals struggle to find a solution to the impending disaster while the world descends into chaos. The story explores themes of survival, human resilience, and the fragility of civilization. more

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Shannon Messenger

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“I don’t want you risking yourself for me,” he continued, his voice unhurried. “Not anymore.” “I’m not risking myself for you,” Mariko retorted. “I’m here for me. Because I still have things I wish to accomplish with my life.” She refocused her attention on the misshapen mass. Slowly began chiseling away twisted fragments of wax, using a lacquered chopstick she’d pilfered from her evening meal. “It turns out my wishes have something to do with you.”

“What an expression of relief, my dear fiancée. However did you make your way through London society with such a revealing face? Not that I object, you understand." Leaning toward her, Mr. Knight smiled with the kind of intimate bewitchment that made her swallow to relieve her suddenly dry mouth. "When a woman is as beautiful as you are, she's usually adept at hiding her emotions. With you, I'll always know what gives you pleasure, and strive always to do as you wish.”

“His silence made her lift one shoulder defensively. If he was trying to intimidate her, he was doing a first-rate job. Just when she was going to say something else- she didn't know what, but something that would crush this beast and his pretensions- he started forward. At once she realized she had named him correctly. He was a beast. He moved like a panther on the prowl, all smooth and leggy- and he prowled toward her. The closer he got, the bigger he seemed, tall and broad at the shoulder. He seemed an element of nature, a rugged mountain, a powerful sea- or a beast, a huge, ruthless beast who kept his claws hidden until he chose to use them. In a moment of panic, the imposter thought, My God, Madeline, what have you let me in for?”

“Now that you're here, you cannot leave." He leaned close and whispered, "My future wife stays in my house- with me." Trapped. Eleanor was trapped in this man's house. "I can't stay here." She shrank from Mr. Knight, from the visions he inspired. Visions of villainous seduction and of social banishment. And beneath it all, a desperate excitement, an excitement that she wouldn't admit to, but it was there nonetheless. If he came to her bedchamber in the dark of night, would she do the proper thing? Would she fight? In a soft voice, she said, "I'm... unwed." "For the moment." His words, his voice, his gaze made clear his intentions toward her- or rather, toward his bride. He intended their marriage to be not one of convenience but one created of passion and tangled emotions. "We will be wed. That I promise you." If she believed that, she wouldn't fight his seduction at all. Her mouth dropped open at her own lascivious notion.”

“Staring into his cold, pale eyes, she felt the chill of the future. Slowly, as if irresistibly drawn, he slid his fingers into her hair, loosening the already drooping chignon at the base of her neck. Leaning his face toward her, he spoke, his voice gravelly with desire. "I love your hair. It's as thick and rich as sable. I'll see this spread over my pillow before a fortnight has passed. I'll bury my face in it and drink in the scent. I'll use it to hold you in place while you thrash beneath me and moan with pleasure." She was shocked by every word. By every threat and every promise. But more than that, she watched his soft, tempting lips move with his words, and she wanted those lips on hers.”

“Look, Madeline," Lady Gertrude said, "everyone's gaping at you!" "I know." The future duchess stared straight ahead, her shoulders stiff, her back straight. Never had Remington seen a woman less comfortable with her own distinction. Never had he enjoyed the success of his own plan quite so much. The ton adored only one thing more than a romance, and that was a scandal. He had- and would- give them both. "Maybe it's because of your hair," he murmured. Madeline shot him a glare.”