Shauna is abducted by the angel of Vengeance. Using torture, he breaks her, forcing her to reform and adapt. When he frees her, she flees. Thinking she's escaped her stalker and tormentor, she lets her guard down.
Then she meets Victor. Someone who seems sympathetic to her pain. Strong, loving, she learns to trust again by falling in love with this enigmatic neighbour.
Vengeance hasn't let go. She's living with him, loving him, trusting him, never doubting him. In love, can she reform Victor, the way he reformed her?
A religious psychological horror.
Graphic: Adults Only
Contains: Sex, Nudity, Violence, Strong Language
Note: This series is about a religious cult believing they are working for god. These are men who think they are angels and disciples, who seek out women to purify them and make them good in god's eyes again, using scripture to justify their methods.
Genre: FICTION / Romance / SuspenseDarkroom is the first novel in a popular series. sales range from 643 copies sold in 2015, and 123 copies sold so far this year. These are good figures considering this is an old release (released in 2010). I'd like to translate this novel with the view of translating the rest of the series, because this series has a cult following which seems to keep growing.
Personally I've ranked in the top 15000 on Amazon US for months (as an author), and my novels consistently sell well.
No! Shaking violently. Can't see. Pain. Oh Jesus! I hardly recognise the screaming as coming from me. Feel the thud before ears register. Like bone imploding against bone inside my head. Crunching teeth. Burning mingled with immediate numb. The blood in my mouth is all I taste – smell – swallow.
Shocked. Just – want – pain – to – stop. Throbbing pounding through right cheek. A low moan escapes; broken agony.
“Crawl in the dirt. Dirty whore.” His voice a loathing sneer.
THUD.
Breathe. Forcing myself to slowly, carefully, keep breathing. Nothing too deep. Deep causes severe pain. Tears sear like acid. Oh god. Can't take the pain. Can't breathe. Excruciating pain in eye. Dust breathing in. Tasting the foul floor I'm prone on. Tape removed from mouth, sensitive lips exposed.
“P … p … please.”
“You have dirty knees from crawling.”
CRUNCH.
Shuddering … can't … please … oh fuck … why? The forceful impact an instant cathartic explosion. Huddled over now, forehead on hard gritty floor, spit. Cough. Burning bile infuses the blood.
“P … please.”
