Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Kim Richards @Kim_Richards @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Scurry
by Kim Richards

The sun rose upon a dirty and dead land. Dust whirling about in the air obscured its light, reducing it to a dull glow on the horizon. This place had no need of its warmth as nothing remained to drink in the rays. The grass vanished long ago along with the animals. Blackened tree trunks jutted skyward as though begging the gods to restore life. Whatever gods there once were no longer paid attention to this ruined world.
Only the roaches survived. Roaches and men, who dug themselves bunkers beneath the earth and stone. They filled the bunkers with food and water. The smart ones figured out ways to purify the air and grow things. When the hellfire erupted, both bug and human scurried into those dark places. The dumb ones starved over time and died but not before they ate roaches and roaches ate them. No one waited to be rescued; none shared what they  had. Many lost their hope; others their minds. Mankind, born of dust, succumbed when it clogged their lungs and choked out all things born and grown.
Son, I tell you this–not as a warning to be better stewards of our planet or we risk this becoming our legacy. I tell you because it is time to scurry…down into our bunker. Just follow the roaches…they know the way.
Fiction © Copyright Kim Richards
Image courtesy of Pixabay.

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Kathleen McCluskey @KathleenMcClus4 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Clan O’Connell
by Kathleen McCluskey

Sheamus and Mary O’Connell are brother and sister, Americans with an Irish last name. They had received a letter from an attorney that stated they were new land owners in their ancestral Ireland. They discussed selling off the land or the idea of renovating the existing castle. The castle was once the toast of Ireland but now lay in Celtic ruins.
Their flight to the emerald isle was uneventful then they rented a car. A man with the name tag ‘Sean’ gave them a map. He warned them of the ancient curse on the land that they sought, he warned of the fog as well.
They drove into the countryside and finally found the castle. The fog was indeed thick as it rolled off of the coast and onto the property. “Sheamus, do you see that?”
He turned, “What the hell?” A black figure with a flowing and torn dress seemed to hover in the fog. A high pitched scream came from the figure. The sound was deafening. They looked at each other, looked back to see the figure and it had vanished. “Let’s get inside, I want to see exactly what we have here.” Sheamus said as he opened the door. Sheamus went to the left and Mary to the right.
Sheamus was looking in the livingroom when he felt a cold hand on his shoulder. He spun around and there was nobody there. He turned back, standing before him was a creature of such disgust he almost fainted. He didn’t get a scream out before the Banshee had him. She kissed him and drained his life. He turned into a wrinkled, emaciated corpse. She threw him to the floor.
Mary was in the kitchen, she saw the Banshee in the corner, its blood red eyes gleaming in the moonlight. She was dead before she could process what she had seen. The attorney appeared in the mist and spoke, “Divine banshee, I will send another letter to other O’Connells. We will find the one that you seek.”
Fiction © Copyright Kathleen McCluskey
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Kathleen McCluskey:

The Long Fall: Book 1: The Inception of Horror

Lucifer always cunning and intelligent challenges father to a battle of wits. Being the angel of light he casts a judgemental eye upon mankind. He begins a war with his fellow archangels and God. Michael, along with his siblings defend their home and mankind from their deranged brother. Broad swords and hand to hand combat drench heaven in blood. The four apocalyptic steeds are released, each having their own destructive power. Betrayal and lust are at biblical levels. Understand the very creation of evil and the consequenses that transpire in the first of THE LONG FALL series.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Lori R. Lopez @LoriRLopez @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


The Storm
by Lori R. Lopez

It brooded, just above the horizon,
filling the sky with a presence of doom.
We all felt that uneasy prickle,
the impending knowledge our lives
were in peril.
But we had no idea
          what the tempest would bring
as it swept these hills,
peeling them bare of every speck,
as if to the bone.
There had been calamitous onslaughts
of lightning or flame.  Grim unyielding
deluges, dust reduced to mire.  Shrieking
wind so fierce it rattled one’s core and could
shake the teeth right out of your mouth!
          Nothing like this.
The beast that hunched over the horizon,
lying in wait, had teeth of its own.
Long and treacherous.
Most would’ve fled to safer ground
if they dreamed of the consequences
to remain.  If they guessed that shelter was
a figment, wood and mortar insignificant.
Hope a deluded fairytale fragment
          clung to by children.
Adults should let go of such vaporous
residue, for what could it benefit them
at the end?
Once the storm pounced.
Or some equivalent bane, looming.
The only certainty I believe in its
aftermath.  Hills can regrow
their skin, their flesh of soil and foliage.
          My people are gone.
Archaeologists might unearth their traces.
I leave a scroll behind, a warning
tucked between stones inside a cave.
The crevice formed by enormous rocks
that withstood a monstrous assault.
Everything less firm, less solid devoured.
Alone I survived:  trembling, unwhole,
taking refuge in a sealed tomb beneath a cliff.
          Terminal, badly maimed,
yet determined to record a final testament
from a life disrupted, struck down
by the hellish hound of Fate.
She has many virulent methods of demise
in store.  Beware her random squalls and tides.
Do not fall prey to a needless rampant
scourge, a surge of frenzy.
          A rogue thunderstrike.
Do your best to hang on, for that is our
triumph, an age well-lived!  And shared,
if possible, in a world less stark.
Regaining hunger, the storm abides.
Fiction © Copyright Lori R. Lopez
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Lori R. Lopez:


Darkverse: The Shadow Hours

A rich gathering of poetry with a dismal twilight atmosphere, a brooding nature, an eerie tone . . .  DARKVERSE:  THE SHADOW HOURS encompasses such pieces written by Lori R. Lopez between 2009 and 2017, collected in three of her Poetic Reflections volumes along with humorous and serious verse.  This ample compendium allows a more focused reading experience and mood — presenting poems that share speculative themes, flashes of horror, glimpses of madness.

Lori is the author of THE DARK MISTER SNARK, LEERY LANE, MONSTROSITIES, AN ILL WIND BLOWS, THE FAIRY FLY, CHOCOLATE-COVERED EYES, JAR BABY, SAMHAIN, 3-Z, and SPIDER SOUP, among other tales.  She has been called a storyteller, whether composing verse or prose.

The aim of her DARKVERSE series is to offer a chilling trek through unlit stretches where all manner of creeps and kooks may lurk; where graveyards and bogs and full-moons abound.  The pages of THE SHADOW HOURS illuminate those morbid uncanny perils and dreads that inhabit drab corners, the known and unknown terrors of the night.  Vivid and distinct, her voice echoes our worst fears then delves beyond, exposing hitherto unimaginable frights.

Prepare to confront a motley array of ghouls and menaces that might just move under your bed.

Look for an Illustrated Print Edition with quirky art by the author.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Mary Ann Peden-Coviello @MAPedenCoviello @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Beastly
by Mary Ann Peden-Coviello

“Whaddya mean you ran outta gas? You think I was born yesterday?” I let my voice skitter up into the upper register.
“Look at the gauge yourself, Tammy. It’s dry. We ain’t goin’ nowhere till we get some gas.” The big blond lunk betrayed himself with his twitching, grinning lips.
“Then call someone and get ’em to bring a jerry can. I’m not sittin’ here at Ogburn Bridge, waitin’ for The Beast to come chomp my bones.”
He made a big show of checking his cell phone. “Oh, man. The battery’s dead, baby. Let’s just hang out here. Someone’ll come along soon and we’ll get a lift back to town.” He slid an arm around me and pulled me closer. “And, come on, you know The Beast of Ogden Bridge’s just some trick lowlife guys use to get into their girls’ panties.”
I allowed him his moment and snuggled against him. After all, he was a creative kisser, and I enjoyed him.
A few minutes later, we came up for air. He glanced out the steamed-up windshield and stiffened. “What’s that? Over there in the bushes.”
I gasped, clutching his arm. “Is it The Beast? Oh, honey, I’m scared!”
He leaned over me, ostentatiously protecting me from danger. “If it is, it’ll hafta come through me to getcha.”
I sighed and snuggled into his chest and neck, now helpfully naked, his sweater lying on the floorboard.
My face changed, shifting into the fanged Beast. My hands curved into talon-tipped claws. I bit deeply into the side of his tender throat. Poor baby, he didn’t even have time to scream. Of course, I’ve been doing this for centuries. I’m well-versed in my technique. I slipped down to the dark river, still in Beast form, and swam away.
Fiction © Copyright Mary Ann Peden-Coviello
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Mary Ann Peden-Coviello:

maryannpedencoviello_frightmareFright Mare-Women Write Horror
Short Story: One Hour Before the Dark

Women write horror and have written it since before Mary Shelley wrote FRANKENSTEIN. This anthology is to highlight the fact women write great horror and to kill the fallacy that they aren’t in some way up to standard. They are. Read here stories by Elizabeth Massie, Nina Kiriki Hoffman, Lucy Taylor, and a plethora of other great writers as they work on your nerves, get inside your head, and bang out some of the scariest tales written today. I’m proud to present these women for your consideration, as Rod Serling might say, as I ask you to step into FRIGHT MARE. Lock the door and windows, put on a light, and remember, it’s not real. It’s not real. Midnight awaits, monsters scheme to take you away, the strange and weird wait in the shadows, but it’s not real. Is it?

Edited by Billie Sue Mosiman, the author who brought you the SINISTER-TALES OF DREAD collections and her latest suspense novel, THE GREY MATTER.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Bailey Hunter @DarkRecesses @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Who Will Sing for Us
by Bailey Hunter

The spires of our ancestors reach high this year, creeping ever further towards the burnt sky.
A reminder, they teach us in whispered threats.
Out loud we sing to them, upon the broken boney soil. We sing of their exploits, and of heroic wars. We sing in rounds and rows. We sing as day turns to night turns to day… We sing as though our lives depended upon it.
We all know it does. An unspoken truth.  A whispered threat.
Those spires of our ancestors grow and creep, creep and grow. Rows of relentless hunger, swaying to our songs. The burnt sky their blanket, the broken boney ground their bed.  They consume endlessly. As they have always done. Devouring without conscious – dreams of glory slaking their perpetual thirst.
We pass on these songs through the generations, teaching the truth in whispered threats. Our voices are the only salvation.
We, the children of eternal greed.
Fiction © Copyright Bailey Hunter
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
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More about Bailey Hunter:
Bailey is a publisher with Dark Recesses Press.


Dark Recesses Press is a publishing house dedicated to providing high quality dark fiction in its many forms to the reader. Our end goal is to impress and entertain, no matter what dark recesses we dare shine our light on.

DarkRecessesPress.com

 
Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Melissa R. Mendelson @melissmendelson @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Winter’s Last Kiss
by Melissa R. Mendelson

He never told me his birthday.  When I asked him about it, he would change the subject.  Sometimes, if I pushed too much, he would get angry, maybe even throw a book or shoe at the wall.  Then, he would storm off and wait until almost the next day to talk to me, and then he would act like nothing ever happened.  But lately, he’s been getting nervous, and for a man that never showed an ounce of fear, I can now see it in his eyes.
They predicted snow tonight.  The sky looked like an awful mess, but it wasn’t cold.  It wasn’t warm either, and he insisted that we go for a walk.  I wanted to sleep, but he pushed now.  I finally gave in, and we went for a walk.  Most of it was spent in silence.  Then, he took me by the hand, and his grip was ice cold.  When I looked into his eyes, I barely recognized the man that I had fallen in love with.  It was like a strange beast was wearing his skin, and when the moon briefly appeared, I thought that he would devour me.  But instead, he kissed me deeply as if he were never ever to kiss me again.
“What is going on,” I finally demanded.  The dread was killing me.  It was killing him.  “Just tell me.  Please,” I cried.
“I never thought that I would meet someone like you,” and a tear slipped down his cheek.  “If only I knew,” and he slapped the tear away.
“It’s okay.”
“Today’s my birthday,” he blurted out.
Finally, he told me.  Why was it such a secret?  Why tell me now?  Then, I knew, and my heart dropped.  My knees buckled.  I barely felt the ground when I fell.  Tears flooded down my face.  I reached for him, and he reached for me.  Our fingers just touched, and then…  He was gone, and the snow started to fall.
 Fiction © Copyright Melissa R. Mendelson
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Melissa R. Mendelson:

The Ticking

If we were masters of our own fate, what would you choose? Would you be wild and free until 21, or would you look forward to becoming wiser in your old age? Maybe, with the uncertainty of this life and horrific current events, you would choose to depart early, or would you live longer in hopes of seeing a better tomorrow? If you could decide when you would die, what would you choose?

 

Available on Amazon!

 

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Naching T. Kassa @NachingKassa @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Best Served Cold
by Naching T. Kassa

The King grinned as he stared through the tower window. Beyond the castle lay a series of hills. They had not existed a year ago.
No one questioned his construction of the hills. No one wondered why wagons loaded with earth trundled past the keep for over a year. The devoted workers never spilled his secret. They never spoke of the massive grave nor the thousands which lay beneath the mounds.
The dying sun shed blood-red light over the King’s handiwork. He stretched. Darkness would fall soon. He needed sleep.
He dropped the drapery over the window and turned toward his bed. The servants had already turned back the covers. Something lay upon the clean white sheet.
The object was fashioned of glass and shaped in the form of a globe. Round and warm, it filled his hand.
He studied the sphere, staring into its depths. Something lay at the center. Something with a large black pupil and a sapphire blue iris.
It blinked.
A chill climbed his spine as the eye gazed upon him. The more it examined him, the colder he grew. The eye emanated hate. It seemed to know him and accuse him.
Who had brought it to him? Who had placed it on his bed? Loyal acolytes surrounded him. They believed in what he did. Explained away each murder, each perversion, each lie. He was their king. He could do no wrong in their eyes.
The King snatched the sphere up. He hurried to the window and, pulling back the drape, hurled the object through it.
The orb plummeted to the stones below. It shattered on impact and the sound rang out over the land like the clang of a great bell. It reverberated through his being, through the stone, and earth below.
The hills, once shrouded in shadow, now swarmed with pinpoints of light. They resembled torches as they moved toward the castle.
Had an enemy army arrived on his doorstep?
The lights drew closer and closer. No footsteps of marching feet, nor of shoed horse accompanied them. A grave-like silence was their only companion.
Below, servants lit torches on the parapet and armed men patrolled. No one noticed the approaching lights. Not even when they floated through the outer walls and into the courtyard.
It was then the King realized his folly. The lights were not torches. They were eyes, thousands of shining eyes. Each belonged to a wraith swathed in black.
The King backed away from the window and stumbled toward the bell rope near the bed. Before he could close his fingers around it, cold air blasted through him. Dark forms floated through the bedroom walls and took hold of his ankles, wrists, and neck. His screams were choked off by the hands reaching into his mouth and down his throat.
Skin and sinew split as they pulled him apart.
###
“Do you like your present, Lorynda?”
The girl looked up from her place beside the Christmas tree, the unwrapped gift in her hands. Tears filled her sapphire blue eyes and she nodded.
“Your father knew of your desire for it.”
“I wish he was here, Mother,” Lorynda replied.
“I do as well, my child.”
“The King killed him, didn’t he?”
“We do not know that. He may yet live.”
“What if he is dead? What if the King killed him and buried him under the hills?”
The eyes of Lorynda’s mother, as blue and beautiful as her daughter’s, grew cold.
“Then, a curse I place upon him. He has torn our hearts to pieces. May the spirits of the dead rise and tear him asunder.”
“A good curse, Mother. I thought the same thing.”
She turned back her present. The crystal orb glowed in the candlelight. At its heart, black forms swarmed and blood flowed.
Lorynda smiled through her tears.
Fiction © Copyright Naching T. Kassa
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Naching T. Kassa:

nachingtkassa_jackolanternJack O’ Lanterns
Short Story Inclusion:
The Devil and Molly Kavanagh

Halloween, every horror writer’s favourite festival and every reader’s wish that the writers find something new to say about it. . . look no further than this startling new collection of Halloween Horror! From the first very nasty little story to the final lengthy one outlining the history of the pumpkin, there is horror entertainment all the way. Enjoy!

Available on Amazon!

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Suzie Lockhart @SuzieNBruce2 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Bridge
by Suzie Lockhart

My hand glides over
cold rusty rivets;
A bridge to nowhere,
yet everywhere I want to be.
Water swirling
below, beckoning…
Agony inside swelling,
bursting with need
to be released.
Late summer chill rushes
through me,
Foreboding clouds darkening
Telling me
The time is ripe.
Freedom is calling
as I climb
onto the metal shelf
embracing the breeze
that will carry me.
I take flight, fleeing;
death is my destiny.
Inhaling, exhaling,
The time is right…
Enveloping me, water
swallowing me
The dark depths
surrounding me
As I breath in the water,
releasing my spirit
Eternally.

Fiction © Copyright Suzie Lockhart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Suzie Lockhart:

Killing It Softly 2

The Best by Women in Horror

The first ‘Killing It Softly’ was just the tip of the iceberg…

Beneath the icy depths of this next installment, you’ll be plunged into a world where 38 female horror writers give you a glimpse of their inner-demons, unleashing the hell-fire they suppress in the ‘real’ world. It will disturb you to discover what really lurks inside their minds, because many of these stories delve into pain that can only be experienced by women—leaving you unhinged as you curl up with them during their darkest hour.

Post-partum depression, hording, anorexia, and mental health will be brought to light when viewed through the shadowy perspective of cognitive deception.

Sci-fi, romance, steam-punk, and fantasy intertwine with horror to deliver unsettling, chilling stories; traditional tales of witches, zombies, werewolves, and vampires will be told in twisted new ways that will shock, unnerve, and even repulse you…and within these pages, sometimes new monsters will arise from the ashes.

You may even discover that women can not only write good horror…but in some cases, can do it better.

Available on Amazon!

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Stop by my other blogs for more Women in Horror Month content!
Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel – Dark emotive flash fiction written by me.
The Road to Nowhere – Horror movie picks staring strong leading ladies.

And don’t forget to visit the Women in Horror Month official web site
for more great 
WiHM8 events and posts!

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, Horror, Women in Horror Month | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Marge Simon @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


The Passage
by Marge Simon

This is what is left of the orchards that bore us fruit of the gods. Once it was wine country, but now all around us is decimated. Our bones will soon be joining the soil among these sere sentries. Whichever of us is left will see to that.
Pretend that nothing’s changed as I guide you along the road past broken down cars beneath a dull orange sky. We must keep upwind from the smell of death. When we reach the foothills, we find a clearing.
You spread a tablecloth; I bring rocks to hold it down against the wind. You’ve prepared a mock picnic of conversation with fictive wine and Camembert. You laugh a little too hard and I kiss you.
We must leave before sunset brings the curs. So many dogs have turned feral. They travel in packs, some with collars. We’ve grown too weak to beat them off. Days ago I’d try, but no more. We brought the gun. One bullet left. I insert it and spin the chamber.
Your turn first, or mine?
Fiction © Copyright Marge Simon
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Marge Simon:

 

Satan’s Sweethearts
by Marge Simon and‎ Mary Turzillo

Satan’s Sweethearts – a collection of poems by Marge Simon and Mary Turzillo featuring the most monstrous, evil women throughout history!

Available on Amazon!

 

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Ela Lourenco @ElaLourenco @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Forgotten Isle
by Ela Lourenco

Scattered purple heathers sway in the bitter ice breeze as I trudge wearily forwards. The golden violet rays of dusk would have moved me once, but I barely notice them now as I inch forwards, my bleeding feet leaving a trail of crimson in my wake.
The sense of victory has long dimmed – my battles against the beasts that now roam these lands meaningless. A few years ago, I would have rejoiced in each drop of their blood. Their dying screeches a symphony to my ears. A few years ago, I would have retired to the fortress among the hills to crow about my prowess, my berserker’s might… A few years ago, there would have been others, friends, family, to cheer as I brandished my blood-fed blades in the light of the bonfire.
A few years ago I was not alone, the last survivor of a now dead species – waging a war, longing for eternal sleep.
Fiction © Copyright Ela Lourenco
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Ela Lourenco:

Essence

Katra is a Fae Hunter in a world once ravaged by a terrible war. Having lost all memory of her childhood and rightful identity, her duty is now to protect the tentative peace brokered by the varying races of the supernatural world. When an evil darkness begins to spread, draining young witches of their power, Katra must find a way back to her true past in order to save the future.

Enduring many trials as ever-increasing powers awaken within her, Katra must also struggle with the mixed emotions her new partner, Blade – a Black Dragon – is rousing within her. Together they must battle the shadows that plan to devour the world they know and prevent its decent into another thousand-year war.

Can Katra hold onto her strength as the truth of her very being begins to unravel? Can she bear the weight that ancient prophecy has placed on her young shoulders? Or is her destiny to regain her true self, only to lose the world she is sworn to protect?

Available on Amazon!

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