Monsters in the Dark by Pepper Winters

Blurb

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From New York Times Bestseller Pepper Winters comes the highly acclaimed USA Today Bestselling Series: Monsters in the Dark.

#1 Erotica, #1 Romantic Suspense, #1 Thriller. Award winner for Best Dark Romance, Best BDSM, Best Dark Hero, and Best Strong Heroine.

This is a story of eroticism, horror, tragedy and ultimately undying and unwavering love.

Included in the following edition are: 

TEARS OF TESS

"My life was complete. Happy, content, everything neat and perfect.

Then it all changed.

I was sold."

Kidnapped. Drugged. Stolen. Tess is forced into a world full of darkness and terror.

QUINTESSENTIALLY Q

"All my life, I battled with the knowledge I was twisted... fucked up to want something so deliciously dark. But then slave fifty-eight entered my world. "

Q may be a monster, but he's Tess's monster.

TWISTED TOGETHER

"After battling through hell, I brought my esclave back from the brink of ruin. I sacrificed everything--my heart, my mind, my very desires to bring her back to life."

Q gave everything to bring Tess back. In return, he expects nothing less.

**Not recommended if you don't enjoy dark romance, angst-filled plots, and BDSM.**

EXCERPTS 

Prologue

 

Three little words.

If anyone asked what I was most afraid of, what terrified me, stole my breath, and made my life flicker before my eyes, I would say three little words.

How could my perfect life plummet so far into hell?

How could my love for Brax twist so far into unfixable?

The black musty hood over my head suffocated my thoughts, and I sat with hands bound behind my back. Twine rubbed my wrists with hungry stringed teeth, ready to bleed me dry in this new existence.

Noise.

The cargo door of the airplane opened and footsteps thudded toward us. My senses were dulled, muted by the black hood; my mind ran amok with terror-filled images. Would I be raped? Mutilated? Would I ever see Brax again?

Male voices argued, and someone wrenched my arm upright. I flinched, crying out, earning a fist to my belly.

Tears streamed down my face. The first tears I shed, but definitely not the last.

This was my new future.  Fate threw me to the bastards of Hades.

“That one.”

My stomach twisted, threatening to evict empty contents. Oh, God.

Three little words:

I was sold.

 

Excerpt #1

         Q’s face twisted; he captured my cheeks between hot hands. “What are you?” he clipped, face hard and unreadable.

The question anchored me and I looked into his pale ferocious eyes. I knew the answer he wanted. “I’m yours.”

He sucked in a heavy breath, body jerking. “Say it again, but not in English.”

Q intoxicated me. My lips parted, and I wanted to stay captured by him, forever. An ancient connection linked us together. I looked into his soul—it churned with agony and demons, but he wasn’t evil.

Q dropped his gaze to my lips. “Je suis à toi.” Something feral heated his features; he pressed his mouth against mine in one fast kiss. “It means, I am yours.”

My breath stuttered as power sliced, deep and fast, igniting broken parts of me with sparks. His allure, his power, all magnified to fist around my stomach. In the dark recess of my brain, I translated his words to him being mine. The power trip the little words gave was indescribable.

No wonder he wanted me to say it. I was drunk on them. He was mine. Mine.

What life did Q live, needing to hear such a strong affirmation? What ghosts haunted him?

Q tightened his fingers, biting into my jaw. “Say it.”

With his command, I fumbled into the victim I was, the rape survivor, the slave. The brief sense of ownership left me bereft.

Q twisted my nipple under the wet material of my bra. His cruelty reddened my skin and fight skittered into yielding. He sent me reeling into needful and damaged. I’d been so close to finding strength, but he took it away in an instant.

Fresh tears spilled as I whispered, “Je suis à toi.”

Q sighed heavily, resting his forehead on mine. “Will you run again? Will you leave the one man who wants you above all others? Leave his protection?” His voice wavered with regret, resignation, as if he expected me to run, and already suffered loneliness.

My eyes popped wide; I shook my head. “No, I won’t run again.”

He looked with half-hooded eyes. “How can you be so sure? Don’t I scare you? Repulse you?”

He never repulsed me, and fear where Q was concerned was an aphrodisiac. But I couldn’t tell him. “I will never escape. Je suis à toi.”