The Werewolves In the Darkness

By Darkheart Desire

Werewolves. The beasts that hide in the darkness, and prey upon those that are weaker than themselves. Their haunting howls often can be heard ringing in the hills, chilling animal and human down to the bone. Tales are told of their bloodthirsty nature, how they're evil beings fully bent on destruction and depravity.

At least, that's what's said in the storybooks that Noblewoman Beatrice Camoy often read. Considered weird by some of her peers, gossiped about by the staff of her Fathers estate, and courted by few, Beatrice often read what she could of the occult. The paranormal a world that she indulged in constantly so as to escape the mundane aspects of her life.

However, she did have one bright point in her life. The fact that she was courted by two gentlemen of the night who were the right sort of attractive that she liked - Tall, dark, and handsome.

But her two potential suitors both hide a dark secret. A secret that she potentially knows as they weave a complicated web of lust, love, and affection with one another. One that might explain the howling that Beatrice often hears at night.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Darkheart Desire
• Release date: Dec 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393281030

Darkheart Desire

So, what kind of person is up and coming Author, Darkheart Desire, like? Is this is your first time hearing about them? Well, what's there to say? In a nutshell, they like to write erotica because they can't ever seem to get enough in their real life. When real-life turns boring, mundane, or ends up too much of the same they retreat into the world of the written word to explore what they want to both have, and to have set on them. In other words, they're too worked up for their own good.

Book preview

Chapter 1 – Boredoms Lament

The air outside the window was cool, and biting that autumn evening. The last vestiges of a warm summer having left long ago, leaving the world bitter, chilly, and crackling with the coming frost that threatened to overwhelm the world. Leaves that were green so many weeks ago started to turn their rustic red color as they fell from the arms of the various trees that adorned outside of the window, blanketing the ground in a crunchy layer of dead and rotting vegetation as everything seemed to come to a standstill, and people started to prepare for the coming darkness that soon would envelop the known world. Food, warmth, hearth and all needed to be prepared in England, as the biting winds came from off of the sea to buffet the Island Empire.

And there, Beatrice sat by the window sill with her hands holding open a book, fully engorged in both the written world beneath that took her mind to far off places and far off adventures and the world outside.

She sighed. Her 23 years alive have seen her through plenty of rotations through the seasons and she always adored the welcoming of the summer months – Summer being the season she beloved above all others because the sweltering heat and rain were a welcomed part of her world. But she enjoyed the turning to autumn as well. The dying world a poetic intonation of what was to come. She knew, scientifically speaking in this day and age, that winter was simply the rotation of the earth as it faced away from the sun, and that it simply meant that some other part of Earth at that point in time was giving the blessings of warmth from the sun. But there was a certain poetry in thinking in simpler terms for the reason for the blizzards to buffet England at that particular time.

Whether that reason was something that members of the Church had told her – That it was God's will and that everything had a cycle. Or whether that reason was mythological such as Persephone descending to hell to be with her beloved Hades as part of her marriage. Or whether it was primitive – such as father Winter coming from the mountains to bless the world with his icy arms. It didn’t matter to Beatrice. All that matter was that it changed and witnessing the changes somehow in her mind made it beautiful.

But then, she figured, she was probably just strange that way. Things that should have frightened her, or made her uncomfortable, or even made her question things were just readily accepted by her in the end. An interest in the occult sealed the deal of weirdness that became a part of her life. Though only a practiced interest on the outside, after all. A thin veneer of interest was what she kept to the face of everyone else that knew her well.

She was