Hello All. Here is the trailer for my upcoming Dark Romance Book. 

Loud gusts of wind flew on the Wraith's manor, and the violent winds shook the estate generating the same amount of fear in me. Lighting struck the city, illuminating the skyline in the distance; I could see it, and I felt goosebumps generating all over, making my body chill to the bone. The windows began to thud, hitting the stone walls. My floorboards creak as I step on them. They made squealing noises as if I had stepped on their throats. As their sounds reached my ear, the intensity of my breaths increased, I knew I was hyperventilating, but there was nothing I could do, not when I could see him through my window, watching me, challenging me. I held a candle in my arms, walking closer to the window; I thanked my spontaneity for not buying a flame candle.

He stood there in his hood, except it didn’t look like an ordinary hood. It looked like those hoods ritualists wear when they are about to haunt someone or possess them, drinking their life away. He seems as such. Or maybe it was a hood or regular, but my delusional mind hallucinated, refusing to believe the truth behind the man. Was he here to possess me? Or was he playing me? 

His confident figure made him look like a formidable weapon; I could easily outline his body; his muscles bulged as his hands moved, and a part of me wanted to hold on to those muscles and beg for mercy. This was the second night in a row I spotted him. Was he watching me? Or was it something else? I would be delusional if I thought he wasn’t watching me, those beautiful eyes looking at me like I was the only star in his night sky. His confident stance challenged me, his smirk daring me to call for help, make that move, and see what would happen.  

But I am not the one to back down, and I enjoy a challenge too. I returned the smirk with the same amount of arrogance; as I looked out from my window, I took out my phone and called for help, paving the way to my destruction, and that’s how I fell from my grace to hell into the arms of a devil. The harder I prayed, the more he destroyed me. 

He stood on his knees, worshipping me. At that minute, he looked like a devil-worshipping his angel. He often admitted it when he knelt before me as if he was praying, but it was all a façade, wasn’t it? He devoured me inside out. I often wanted to give in and become his meal, but I couldn’t. He consumed me whole. There was no me; it was all him. The truth is, he is terrifying; I was terrified of him. He told me he was my protector, but why did he haunt my daydreams and nightmares? he brought his darkness along with whatever demons he was attached to; they all took me hostage, making me do their bidding; his cup of life held my everlasting damnation.  

I don’t know what kind of hell hole he crawled out of, but he sure made my godforsaken life a fucking path to my doom, desecrated it, and shredded it to the last atom.  He bent me into his submission, and I gladly obliged.