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- Herausgeber: Berlinable UG (haftungsbeschränkt)
- Kategorie: Erotik
- Serie: The Darkling Path
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020
Psymon, driving his beloved car on a trip back home from military life, suffers a freak car accident eerily reminiscent of his father's strange encounter thirty years prior. He unwittingly stumbles upon a magical realm, to which he has a mysterious ancestral connection. There, he encounters a beautiful woman, Deardra, who made a desperate pact with the fae, a the cruel masters of this land. Bound to him as her protector, she starts to reveal the truth about this realm, and how she came to be there. As slave to a relentless master, whose magic fed on her suffering, pain and pleasure became synonymous for her. As such, Psymon knows exactly how to please her… Witty, eloquent and deeply atmospheric, this story transports the reader to a parallel world where magic rules and power is closely-guarded. Hansa Bosbach's eloquent and imaginative style will surprise and delight with its surreal touches, artful narrative and scorching hot sex.
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THE DARKLING PATH
Episode 1
Hansa Bosbach
Artcover: William Grob
Copyright: BERLINABLE UG
Berlinable invites you to leave all your fears behind and dive into a world where sex is a tool for self-empowerment.
Our mission is to change the world - one soul at a time.
When people accept their own sexuality, they build a more tolerant society.
Words to inspire, to encourage, to transform.
Open your mind and free your deepest desires.
All rights reserved. It is not permitted to copy, distribute or otherwise publish the content of this eBook without the express permission of the publisher. Subject to changes, typographical errors and spelling errors. The plot and the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to dead or living people or public figures is not intended and are purely coincidental.
There have always been stories… spoken and shared in hushed tones and whispers. Tales told behind locked doors and shuttered windows. They were meant to be warnings. Fables to capture the mind and put fear in the hearts of children. Always remember the offering, they said. A bit of bread and butter is all it took. But the bread must be made by your own hands, the butter by the sweat of your brow. They will know if you cheat. They will curse you and you will be lost. And should it appear to you... never... never ever... travel the Darkling path.
The night was not kind. The wind screamed in rage, driving a curtain of rain sideways. Alex watching out the wide window of his room, imagining knives of bitter cold water ripping and slicing the heat from his flesh. He shivered and sipped from the mug of warm tea trying to drive the chill thoughts from his brain. The trees swayed violently, illuminated by the incandescent crack of millions of volts arcing between unseen clouds.
His mind wandered. The violence of the storm was almost hypnotic. Rain blurred the faint light from the porch giving the world beyond the window an unreal, hazy feel. The shadowed reflection in the glass illuminated by the candle on the windowsill was no longer the chiseled features of youth. His beard, once the golden mane of a lion, now glinted silver even in the yellow glow of flame. His eyes were still clear but had faded from the vivid blue of summer sky to the dark blue gray of oncoming storms. He still marveled at the golden flecks that seemed to shimmer in their depths. People called him fae touched and when they thought he wasn't listening spoke of the "fairy dust" in his eyes. Alex chuckled, whispering to the darkness and memories "you didn't even know how right you were."
It had been a night like this one. With a storm that seemed to want to extinguish all light from the world, save for its own. He had been a young man then. Strong and confident. Flushed with vigor and willing to take on any challenge. "What a fool I was then," he thought. He had heard the tales growing up just like everyone else. He never believed them.
It was a little past midnight when he stopped the truck to grab a bite to eat. He had thought that it was raining so hard it was probably dangerous to be driving anyway. He smiled at his reflection, remembering the job. Moving cargo at night wasn't a glamorous job... but driving quiet streets was peaceful and gave him time to enjoy the evening after he woke, before work. He had always liked the solitude of the night... till that night.
Alex closed his eyes, letting his memory take him back. The truck shook slightly from the wind even while parked, as he laid out his lunchtime bounty on the dash. Two sandwiches, a bag of salt and vinegar chips, and a steaming cup of coffee from the thermos. In his mind he saw his hand move as if in slow motion. Fear at what he knew would come next seeming to stretch the moment longer, to try and avoid the truth. His hand touched the sandwich... there was a flash of white in the headlights. His eyes focused through the rain clouded window. It was a girl... no, a lady, her white gown plastered to her body outlining the curves of a perfect figure. The black ringlets of her hair were sodden and clung to her shoulders hiding her face.
His first thought had been one of surprise, what the hell was a young lady doing walking in a storm like this? And in a nightgown, no less? He had immediately been worried for her safety. Rolling down the window the cold rain had stung his face as he leaned out to yell over the cacophony of the storm.
"Hey! You ok? You need a ride?"
No answer... she acted like she hadn't heard him. She crossed out of the light walking slowly toward the trees at the edge of the field where he had parked. He had cursed softly as he opened the door, knowing he would be drenched in seconds. He had hopped down from the cab, his boots crunched on the wet gravel of the road. He remembered the sound vividly. The sound was etched into his memory as deeply as every other event of that night. He never should have gotten out of the truck. But he could not have known.
The rain had felt like slivers of ice that stung his face. He remembered running. If not for his concern for the lady it may have been almost exhilarating. The gray white of her gown had been a beacon drawing him forward as it wavered in and out of view through the darkness of the storm. He had caught up to her as she was approaching the forest edge. Trees, dark and foreboding, had loomed over them. Lightning had crashed somewhere in the clouds behind him, throwing his shadow for a split second out before him. He had not wanted to alarm the lady so he had slowed to a walk a respectful distance away.
