#yelling!

You know, like I did five minutes ago?

(This'll be extra funny if this character has a peanut allergy.)

You.

Hey, beautiful sinner saints.

I'm back with another chapter, although this story is in its final stages. You know, after three years. 😅

First of all, you need to tread carefully in this chapter.

If you want to miss the parts that might...not be for more sensitive readers, you should skip from the sentence that ends with "and he reminds you of a wind chime waiting for a breeze" to "Oh, but he is so cold." There you go - there's your ticket out. And, hey, it's ok to be sensitive! Hell, in this world? That's damn precious. It's a good thing. Don't feel bad about that.

Secondly, some of you will want to throw things at my head at the end of this chapter but there's still an epilogue coming, so live in hope.

There's always hope.

EXCERPT:

"He's pure hunger like this - scalding jaws and eager, seeking lips.

Deep, satisfied sounds from the back of his throat knock your defenses loose, and - damn it all to hell - your legs and thighs shake from a mix of fear and wanting. You negotiate his teeth against your tongue, wondering if they're more like knife blades than incisors now, although if he bites down - really bites down - a sharp knife moving deftly past the skin and into flesh hurts less at first."