Series: The Enslaved Duet
Published by Self on 03/29/2019
Genres: Romantic Suspense
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It was the biggest day of my life.
I know most people say that about something joyous; a graduation, a wedding ceremony, the birth of their first child. My situation was a little different.
Sure, it was my eighteenth birthday, but it was also the day that I was sold.
Sold to a man with hair like a crown of gold and eyes blacker than the darkest pits of Hell.
He bought me to own me, to control me, and to use me as a means to an end.
I was his tool and his weapon.
And through it all, somehow, I also became his salvation.
ENTHRALLED (THE ENSLAVED DUET #1) BY GIANA DARLING
Release Date: March 29, 2019
Stories like Enthralled by Giana Darling are my kryptonite. I love dark stories that consume me and takes readers on a wild and twisted ride. Cosima was sold on her eighteenth birthday to a man determined to own her, bend her, control her. Her Master, Alexander, was a hard man who was cold and cruel, but when it came to being a master, he was, well masterful.
This story will grip you from the start, but I must warn you, it is dark and raw and will push your imagination. Sold to pay off her father’s death, Cosima’s life changed in a way no young woman could ever imagine. This book tugged at my heart, left me breathless and shocked me all at once. I cannot wait for the next book!
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I was locked in the dark but it was more than an absence of light. It was the blackness of my own solitude, the quantum hole at the center of my soul that was slowly sucking away at everything that made me me.
I tried to write an encyclopedia of Cosima facts to cement my sense of self in the chaos of night that had become my life.
Cosima Ruth Lombardi.
Born August 2nd 1998 in Naploi, Italia to Caprice Maria Lombardi and Seamus Patrick Moore.
My favourite colour was wine red, captured in a glass and held over rich, warm candlelight.
I loved poppies best of all flowers because they reminded me of me in a way that was narcissistic but true. They were bold as blood, stark against the softer colours of the traditional Italian countryside. They demanded notice and received it. But their beauty was short-lived and fragile as the thin silk of their petals. They fell to bits within a week and scattered on the wind.
I felt very much like one of those black centered blooms, falling apart with every breath I took without even one witness to my dematerialization.
He wanted me like this.
Lost like decaying particles in a petri dish.
I didn’t have to hear his British accented voice clipping the words into neat little explanations to understand why.
He wanted me broken.
A beautiful, hollow shell to break open and f*ck into.