I am delighted and very flattered having been asked to peform at the Notre Dame. I adore Paris,And her beautiful language. Yes, the beautiful city never fails to inspire...
I am sorry it has been a while- I have been writing almost to the point of insanity. I am so entranced by the world of utter perfection, in which I and I alone can control. The strongest of characters are mere puppets in my fingers, tied down to the threads of impossiblity. How I delight in my independence and dictatorship!
The Words of the Countessa is nearly finished- after many long months. It appalls me to think while my work is published or on high demand, I am forced to follow ludicrously simple O-levels and spend my precious time learning how to structure sentences.
I write when ever possible- all my free time is devoted to my words. I love to create and illustrate the thoughts of so many, and adapt them to become my own, precious creation. And to think, only seventy more years to write, and they waste my time on tedious matters I understand.
It is wonderful not to write by candlelight with a broken pencil under my bed covers at the depth of night- But I somewhat miss the thrill of breaking all the rules,and not following the ever increasing tide of technology.
I must leave-
Society must be attended at all costs, as so many I know do recite to me on never ending tones of utter dissopointment. I wish never to become a broken lady of sixty years desperately clinging to the bare threads of fading society.
Yours,
Madelaine Lucie Hanon
Friday, 28 May 2010
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
Words of the Countessa
Long ago, Count Devicari was punished by the jealous enchanteress ,Maldetta, for his unfaithfulness to her.
Now, trapped in the Grotto of Terror, she now possesses the key for her revenge on her unfaithful lover, and his city.
Will Evola, long suffering daughter of a man insane with grief, be able to save her love Emoro,and her city from the Enchanteress Maldetta,the denied lover of Devicari?Or will she have to wed the very man who brought on her world's downfall?
Now, trapped in the Grotto of Terror, she now possesses the key for her revenge on her unfaithful lover, and his city.
Will Evola, long suffering daughter of a man insane with grief, be able to save her love Emoro,and her city from the Enchanteress Maldetta,the denied lover of Devicari?Or will she have to wed the very man who brought on her world's downfall?
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
Finally No Longer A Child...
Finally ,I have crossed the line of childhood. I am now,officially and legally, seen as a young adult.Gone are the disrespectful punishments and humiliation for honesty and opinion-I am entitled to my thoughts, my freedom and belief.
I am very much against modern societies laws and ettiquette.Dull, long hours of sincere, unwanted polite silence, snooty views of 'class' and 'culture' not to mention our unmentionably english mannerism of judging those who are different or opposing our opinion, be it right or wrong, as utterly wrong and therefore the poor victim in question should be treated as inferior and cut off from all society.
As I grew up listening quietly to my mother's social circle's sharp tongues and vicious, irratable attitude to any unfortunate woman who happened to stumble into their view in the wrong dress, you can imagine the nonsense and ridicule I heard while behind the curtains in the drawing room.
I can vividly remember my mother telling me about her sister's unfortunate encounter with her husband's parents.She had been about twenty, and had gone with her fiance to meet his parents. When asked how many estates her parent's owned, she replied, extremely foolishly, that it was none of their concern and she would hope, in today's society, her husband would love her no matter what her position in society was.I dread to think of the bitter consequences.
On another matter, I would like to reply to one of my comments on the previous statment.I utterly agree. When I write, it is impossible to explain the thrill and utter terror I feel as I create the passion between characters.It is, I suppose, like contolling the strings of puppets on a huge and impossible stage.
While I am in complete control, It is like I am observing the events from a perfect view, feeling the pain and the love between the characters. I love writing-nothing is more enjoyable to me than spending an hour or two writing a dark and passionate chapter.
Jealousy is all but published- I am working on the cover design as I speak. Iit took a lot of time and effort-but it was hugely enjoyable to write and the comments and replies I am recieving is truly extraordinary.
Thank you to all my supportive friends and collegues who have stood by me all the way thorough out this story.I will continue to update you on it's success.
Yours Faithfully,
Madelaine Lucie Hanson
I am very much against modern societies laws and ettiquette.Dull, long hours of sincere, unwanted polite silence, snooty views of 'class' and 'culture' not to mention our unmentionably english mannerism of judging those who are different or opposing our opinion, be it right or wrong, as utterly wrong and therefore the poor victim in question should be treated as inferior and cut off from all society.
As I grew up listening quietly to my mother's social circle's sharp tongues and vicious, irratable attitude to any unfortunate woman who happened to stumble into their view in the wrong dress, you can imagine the nonsense and ridicule I heard while behind the curtains in the drawing room.
I can vividly remember my mother telling me about her sister's unfortunate encounter with her husband's parents.She had been about twenty, and had gone with her fiance to meet his parents. When asked how many estates her parent's owned, she replied, extremely foolishly, that it was none of their concern and she would hope, in today's society, her husband would love her no matter what her position in society was.I dread to think of the bitter consequences.
On another matter, I would like to reply to one of my comments on the previous statment.I utterly agree. When I write, it is impossible to explain the thrill and utter terror I feel as I create the passion between characters.It is, I suppose, like contolling the strings of puppets on a huge and impossible stage.
While I am in complete control, It is like I am observing the events from a perfect view, feeling the pain and the love between the characters. I love writing-nothing is more enjoyable to me than spending an hour or two writing a dark and passionate chapter.
Jealousy is all but published- I am working on the cover design as I speak. Iit took a lot of time and effort-but it was hugely enjoyable to write and the comments and replies I am recieving is truly extraordinary.
Thank you to all my supportive friends and collegues who have stood by me all the way thorough out this story.I will continue to update you on it's success.
Yours Faithfully,
Madelaine Lucie Hanson
Saturday, 13 February 2010
I almost forgot!I am 14 soon-on the 23rd to be exact.It all seems so long ago-doing ridiculous things you could only get away with when you were very young-dancing in the snow bare foot in the middle of the night, climbing a tree in the long-forgotten summer just so you can see over the village, pretending the willow trees were palaces of wicked spirits and frightening yourself so much you refused to go near them for well over a year...
It sounds very strange to look back at these events as if they happened well over a century ago-but for me it really does feel like that-In today's hectic logical world I feel supressed into a world of facts and exams-numbers and the bitter cold of this long winter seem to be all I can think about.
I suppose that's why I write. To escape from the world I live in and create the exitement and beauty of the world I remember.Ever since I can remember I have been dreaming up wild tales of magic and treachery.
I can vividly remember a girl called Anna-Clare.She lived in Cambridge, and every day after school we would go to the common and play by the bridge in the poppies and long grass, watching the punters come past, thinking up stories of dragons and fairies, and hiding in the flowers.
Now I think about it, we were very dark children. Instead of ending our stories happily, the characters would die horribly. We refused to let anyone overhear or join in our games-we prefered to imagine the characters-free to murder and destroy.The lovers in our story were cruelly parted-either the died tragically,were kep apart through society or cursed never to meet again.The evil socerer would always suceed- they won their innocent bride or got their revenge on the person they had vowed. Strangely, we very rarely looked on the unfortunate characters with pity.
I can also remember one character very strongly-his name appears in our stories many times. Vinido. He was a wicked sorcerer who could possess the souls of any one- exept the woman he loved. This drove him to insanity-and he swore that no man that could ever possess her love would ever escape his wrath.
O well, I shall live in the future.
It sounds very strange to look back at these events as if they happened well over a century ago-but for me it really does feel like that-In today's hectic logical world I feel supressed into a world of facts and exams-numbers and the bitter cold of this long winter seem to be all I can think about.
I suppose that's why I write. To escape from the world I live in and create the exitement and beauty of the world I remember.Ever since I can remember I have been dreaming up wild tales of magic and treachery.
I can vividly remember a girl called Anna-Clare.She lived in Cambridge, and every day after school we would go to the common and play by the bridge in the poppies and long grass, watching the punters come past, thinking up stories of dragons and fairies, and hiding in the flowers.
Now I think about it, we were very dark children. Instead of ending our stories happily, the characters would die horribly. We refused to let anyone overhear or join in our games-we prefered to imagine the characters-free to murder and destroy.The lovers in our story were cruelly parted-either the died tragically,were kep apart through society or cursed never to meet again.The evil socerer would always suceed- they won their innocent bride or got their revenge on the person they had vowed. Strangely, we very rarely looked on the unfortunate characters with pity.
I can also remember one character very strongly-his name appears in our stories many times. Vinido. He was a wicked sorcerer who could possess the souls of any one- exept the woman he loved. This drove him to insanity-and he swore that no man that could ever possess her love would ever escape his wrath.
O well, I shall live in the future.
Sorry it's been so long....
Sorry I have not written lately. A mix of family issues and work is my excuse-but you will be glad to know I have been working long, hard hours on the book as promised! I became deeply worried when I realised I didn't know how to end the book. But, after deep thought and support of my friends, I have come to a final desicion.
My apologies for keeping you waiting!I shall update you on Jealousy as soon as I have the publishing rights.For the time being, I have decided to open this story, The fire that roars, to the public.I hope it lives up to your expectations!
Yours Sincerely
Madelaine-Lucie Hanson
Chapter 1
Running from Death
The wind seemed cold that night. The frosted ground shimmered as the last candle blew out for the last time,the glow dying softly as the sunset faded. The bitter snowflakes fell to the ground, beautiful-yet so heartless and selfish.
Twilight had come, spreading her dusky cloak of rich cobalt far across the last burning flames of the sunset. Slowly, she began to embroider the first stars of the night. The scarlet clouds parted, the moon glimmered in the stars, longing for hope.
I had run so far from the city I had loved. Every footstep had echoed on the cobbles, every street darker and narrower than the last.I ran for my life, out of Paris's gates and along the river, away from the sorrow, the fear and the constant flow of tears.
My own sister had died to Paris's mistress, Madame Guillotine. I can still hear her fading screams and pleads,sobbing bitterly for this cruelty to end. Desperately, she had turned to me. "Marie!" she had screamed. "Help me please!I beg you! Please! I dont want to die!"Her words turned to a hollow moan,as the executioner raised the blade.The man pulled off her bonnet,revealing her shaved head to the crowd. They jeered selfishly,glad it was not them on the gibbet.For that awful moment, I saw what they truly were-row after row of innocent cowards being led to the blade by the cruelest of men.
My father ran forward to the guillotine, screaming in agony and fear. "My daughter!"He cried, rushing to the trembling Vienne. He was pushed into the crowd,and knocked to the ground by a huge,hideous guard ,with a vast cockade on his bulbous head.
"Vienne Invoute, you are here by sentenced to death by guillotine, for the crime of aiding and abetting the escape of Sir Pierre Jervaise, A deserter and enemy to the great revolution..."I could not hear the sentence I was so overcome with fury.
I ran to him, shaking with anger. "You monster!"I cried. He sneered down at me, his hand raised.Without thinking, I hit him hard, sending him flying backwards.The crowd stirred, before looking down in shock at the huge man.
"I hate you!"I sobbed. "I hate Paris.Everyone of you is drenched in the blood of innocent people. The walls of even the great cathederal are red with blood. The seine is flowing with lies, deceit and murder! Yet you continue to murder in the name of justice! My sister is going to die for the man she loved!"I cried.This moved the crowd, as they looked at m uneasily.
Suddenly, the man stirred. "Kill the girl!"He roared. "She is a traitor to the great cause!"The crowd turned, their faces black with the undying thirst for blood.That was when I ran.The roar grew louder, and I nearly fell down. I ran on and on, into the wilderness of a broken city.
I left my sister on her own death
And I keep running.
My apologies for keeping you waiting!I shall update you on Jealousy as soon as I have the publishing rights.For the time being, I have decided to open this story, The fire that roars, to the public.I hope it lives up to your expectations!
Yours Sincerely
Madelaine-Lucie Hanson
Chapter 1
Running from Death
The wind seemed cold that night. The frosted ground shimmered as the last candle blew out for the last time,the glow dying softly as the sunset faded. The bitter snowflakes fell to the ground, beautiful-yet so heartless and selfish.
Twilight had come, spreading her dusky cloak of rich cobalt far across the last burning flames of the sunset. Slowly, she began to embroider the first stars of the night. The scarlet clouds parted, the moon glimmered in the stars, longing for hope.
I had run so far from the city I had loved. Every footstep had echoed on the cobbles, every street darker and narrower than the last.I ran for my life, out of Paris's gates and along the river, away from the sorrow, the fear and the constant flow of tears.
My own sister had died to Paris's mistress, Madame Guillotine. I can still hear her fading screams and pleads,sobbing bitterly for this cruelty to end. Desperately, she had turned to me. "Marie!" she had screamed. "Help me please!I beg you! Please! I dont want to die!"Her words turned to a hollow moan,as the executioner raised the blade.The man pulled off her bonnet,revealing her shaved head to the crowd. They jeered selfishly,glad it was not them on the gibbet.For that awful moment, I saw what they truly were-row after row of innocent cowards being led to the blade by the cruelest of men.
My father ran forward to the guillotine, screaming in agony and fear. "My daughter!"He cried, rushing to the trembling Vienne. He was pushed into the crowd,and knocked to the ground by a huge,hideous guard ,with a vast cockade on his bulbous head.
"Vienne Invoute, you are here by sentenced to death by guillotine, for the crime of aiding and abetting the escape of Sir Pierre Jervaise, A deserter and enemy to the great revolution..."I could not hear the sentence I was so overcome with fury.
I ran to him, shaking with anger. "You monster!"I cried. He sneered down at me, his hand raised.Without thinking, I hit him hard, sending him flying backwards.The crowd stirred, before looking down in shock at the huge man.
"I hate you!"I sobbed. "I hate Paris.Everyone of you is drenched in the blood of innocent people. The walls of even the great cathederal are red with blood. The seine is flowing with lies, deceit and murder! Yet you continue to murder in the name of justice! My sister is going to die for the man she loved!"I cried.This moved the crowd, as they looked at m uneasily.
Suddenly, the man stirred. "Kill the girl!"He roared. "She is a traitor to the great cause!"The crowd turned, their faces black with the undying thirst for blood.That was when I ran.The roar grew louder, and I nearly fell down. I ran on and on, into the wilderness of a broken city.
I left my sister on her own death
And I keep running.
Friday, 29 January 2010
Continued....
"Mandoline?"He whispered softly. She stirred, and opened her eyes."Leave me be, Edward. Maybe in time, I can forgive you!"She replied softly, her eyes closing, her body limp and weak.
His anger returned, and with it his rage. "Impossible my dear! You beleive because I am cold and thoughtless, I do not love? You think I have not tried to cease my passion for you? I am addicted to you!" He shook her, trying to make her look at him.
"You do not love me Edward!"She replied, struggling to get up. "Your passion has turned into some twisted, relentless passion many, many years ago.Now let me go!"She pulled away and ran to the door.
He laughed a hollow laugh, as he watched her desperately pulling at the door. "Do you think you can escape?After all I have done to find you? I have the key, my love. Tell me, my sweet,if I had not, where would you go in the city of water?
Mandoline sank down, here mouth dry with fear. "When Henri returns, he will kill you, Edward. Leave me be, I beg of you!"She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with tears.
"Henri will do nothing, cherie. Not tonight or any other night!"Edward pulled her to her feet and held her tightly.
Mandoline's eyes widened in horror. "You killed him!"She gasped, staggering backwards. "You murderer!Murderer!She screamed, lunging towards him. He grabbed her wrists with ease, and smiled at her cruelly.
Edward laughed again, caressing her cheek. "Not yet,Mon amour, ma douce.But we do not want him to meet a watery grave, do we cherie? Nobody finds the bones...."He trailed off, whispering softly. "Of a drowned man."
He leaned closer, his voice scarcely a whisper. "So come quietly, mon petit traitre!Or the jaws of hell could open for your ignorant lover sooner than you would imagine." He roared with laughter and the longing for revenge.He kissed her softly and drew from under his cloak a familiar, velvet cloak.
Mandoline took the cloak, shaking. She fell back against the wall. She would never let him kill poor, innocent Henri.She had no alternative-she had to go.
She sat limply, gazing over the side, refusing to show any emotion.Edward leaned forward and grabbed her frozen hand.
"The sun will never dawn again for your foolish lover. I have been starved too long of your presence. Now he shall suffer, as I did for so very, very long."He searched her face for emotion, but she showed nothing, only cold remorse.
"It is strange, my love."He murmured, as he gazed into the glittering eyes he had fallen in love with. "I came to Venice to make you repay for your deeds.But..."He trailed off, grasping her tiny wrist. "I wonder if your engagement ring still fits!"He laughed softly.
Mandoline looked at him in horror. "I would rather die than be your bride!"She hissed, watching his eyes darken in rememberance of the past.
"My dear, do not speak so briskly. I am one for keeping promises.You do not wish to lie in the catacombs just yet."Edward tightened his grip.
Mandolline shook her head, her face white. "Votre tombe sera ici. Henri va vous tuer!" She pulled away, Edward seething with rage.
"He does not deserve you , Mandoline."Edward narrowed his eyes. "He is of no wealth or importance.You could marry a prince and you choose a penniless lawyer!
There IS more to this chapter....wait and see....
"Mandoline?"He whispered softly. She stirred, and opened her eyes."Leave me be, Edward. Maybe in time, I can forgive you!"She replied softly, her eyes closing, her body limp and weak.
His anger returned, and with it his rage. "Impossible my dear! You beleive because I am cold and thoughtless, I do not love? You think I have not tried to cease my passion for you? I am addicted to you!" He shook her, trying to make her look at him.
"You do not love me Edward!"She replied, struggling to get up. "Your passion has turned into some twisted, relentless passion many, many years ago.Now let me go!"She pulled away and ran to the door.
He laughed a hollow laugh, as he watched her desperately pulling at the door. "Do you think you can escape?After all I have done to find you? I have the key, my love. Tell me, my sweet,if I had not, where would you go in the city of water?
Mandoline sank down, here mouth dry with fear. "When Henri returns, he will kill you, Edward. Leave me be, I beg of you!"She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with tears.
"Henri will do nothing, cherie. Not tonight or any other night!"Edward pulled her to her feet and held her tightly.
Mandoline's eyes widened in horror. "You killed him!"She gasped, staggering backwards. "You murderer!Murderer!She screamed, lunging towards him. He grabbed her wrists with ease, and smiled at her cruelly.
Edward laughed again, caressing her cheek. "Not yet,Mon amour, ma douce.But we do not want him to meet a watery grave, do we cherie? Nobody finds the bones...."He trailed off, whispering softly. "Of a drowned man."
He leaned closer, his voice scarcely a whisper. "So come quietly, mon petit traitre!Or the jaws of hell could open for your ignorant lover sooner than you would imagine." He roared with laughter and the longing for revenge.He kissed her softly and drew from under his cloak a familiar, velvet cloak.
Mandoline took the cloak, shaking. She fell back against the wall. She would never let him kill poor, innocent Henri.She had no alternative-she had to go.
* * * *
Edward pushed her down the stairs, throwing the cloak over his trembling prisoner. He opened the door, and led her into the gondola.The black water lapped around the boat as the ferryman rode the boat away. No doubt he was terrified of his master, Mandoline thought.She sat limply, gazing over the side, refusing to show any emotion.Edward leaned forward and grabbed her frozen hand.
"The sun will never dawn again for your foolish lover. I have been starved too long of your presence. Now he shall suffer, as I did for so very, very long."He searched her face for emotion, but she showed nothing, only cold remorse.
"It is strange, my love."He murmured, as he gazed into the glittering eyes he had fallen in love with. "I came to Venice to make you repay for your deeds.But..."He trailed off, grasping her tiny wrist. "I wonder if your engagement ring still fits!"He laughed softly.
Mandoline looked at him in horror. "I would rather die than be your bride!"She hissed, watching his eyes darken in rememberance of the past.
"My dear, do not speak so briskly. I am one for keeping promises.You do not wish to lie in the catacombs just yet."Edward tightened his grip.
Mandolline shook her head, her face white. "Votre tombe sera ici. Henri va vous tuer!" She pulled away, Edward seething with rage.
"He does not deserve you , Mandoline."Edward narrowed his eyes. "He is of no wealth or importance.You could marry a prince and you choose a penniless lawyer!
There IS more to this chapter....wait and see....
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
I am writing chapter 7 currently-I have redone the last 3 chapters-and I have settled on one chapter a week. This is the first of 25 chapters-so be warned- this is a very long and detailed book! Enjoy!
It was late winter in venice, the snow thick and blinding, hiding the water's dark secret. Mandoline , Edward's runaway bride, lay alone in her chamber, listening to the wind howling outside like a cursed soul.
The windows were open, The curtains billowing in the cold night wind. Mandoline lay in bed, watching the fire light dancing on the chandelier.It was nearly midnight, and the snow was thicker than ever. She was not tired- but the thought of staying alone downstairs terrified her.
In the shadows, she heard a laugh. She span around, and climbed out of bed. By the window, she saw a tall, dark familiar figure.
He staggered closer, and the fire illuminated his cruel face. "Good evening, my love."He whispered, coming closer. She backed away, but he grabbed her throat.He leaned forward, watching her struggle in his arms.
He forced her to look at him. " Still so defiant, my sweet?" He mocked. "I thought I had broken you years ago." She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. "Still,I won't make that mistake again." He laughed, and grabbed her wrist. "I will enjoy every second of pain I inflict you with." He leaned closer.
"You are my betrothed, my love. Tell me, do you still despise me?"He held fast, only inches away from her.
"I despise you!"Mandoline hissed. "I am joyous in your absence!" She pushed herself away, but he laughed. He through her against the wall.
"I love you too, my sweet."He looked down, and pulled a necklace from her neck in horror. "Who gave you this?"He snarled. He was furious with his own stupidity. why, he had taken all her inheritence, so she was penniless with out him. Of course, it was obvious now. She had loved another man, who had aided her escape and returned her love. He shook with anger and desire.
"A far better man then you!"Mandoline gasped, as he tightened his grip around her neck.He roared in rage, and threw the chain onto the fire.He punched her and she fell to the floor.
"YOU BELONG TO ME!"He roared in torment, shaking her furiously. "So this is what you do to me!"He cried. "Run away to the arms of another the very night you agreed to marry me!"
"I never loved you!"She wept, as he grabbed a poker from the flames."It was the only way I could escape!"
"Say you love me, Mandoline!" He cried, half in pain, half in anger. "Say it!" He raised the poker higher.Mandoline struggled in his arms, sobbing in fear.
"I can't Edward!I can't! Its not true!"Mandoline wept, her eyes wide with fear."I could never love you!Please! Let me go! What have I done to you?"She sank down, Edward staring at her in despiration.
She was still so beautiful, even now. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, her dark hair tumbling down her back. In a plain white nightdress she looked just like she had on her wedding night.
He hated her when she looked at him like that. They reflected to monster he had become, his love becoming a twisted obsession, his strength so easily broken.
And she didnt love him.He would have died for her, he would have done anything for her - and yet she refused him.
He punched her again, watching the blood run down her lips and down her neck. Her eyes fluttered to a close, her body limp in his arms. Had he killed her?He could not live with out her- she was his reason the breathe, the wind in his face, the passion in his heart.
To be continued...THIS isnt the end of the chapter-but i will write more later!
Chapter 1
The Man He Had Become
The windows were open, The curtains billowing in the cold night wind. Mandoline lay in bed, watching the fire light dancing on the chandelier.It was nearly midnight, and the snow was thicker than ever. She was not tired- but the thought of staying alone downstairs terrified her.
In the shadows, she heard a laugh. She span around, and climbed out of bed. By the window, she saw a tall, dark familiar figure.
He staggered closer, and the fire illuminated his cruel face. "Good evening, my love."He whispered, coming closer. She backed away, but he grabbed her throat.He leaned forward, watching her struggle in his arms.
He forced her to look at him. " Still so defiant, my sweet?" He mocked. "I thought I had broken you years ago." She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. "Still,I won't make that mistake again." He laughed, and grabbed her wrist. "I will enjoy every second of pain I inflict you with." He leaned closer.
"You are my betrothed, my love. Tell me, do you still despise me?"He held fast, only inches away from her.
"I despise you!"Mandoline hissed. "I am joyous in your absence!" She pushed herself away, but he laughed. He through her against the wall.
"I love you too, my sweet."He looked down, and pulled a necklace from her neck in horror. "Who gave you this?"He snarled. He was furious with his own stupidity. why, he had taken all her inheritence, so she was penniless with out him. Of course, it was obvious now. She had loved another man, who had aided her escape and returned her love. He shook with anger and desire.
"A far better man then you!"Mandoline gasped, as he tightened his grip around her neck.He roared in rage, and threw the chain onto the fire.He punched her and she fell to the floor.
"YOU BELONG TO ME!"He roared in torment, shaking her furiously. "So this is what you do to me!"He cried. "Run away to the arms of another the very night you agreed to marry me!"
"I never loved you!"She wept, as he grabbed a poker from the flames."It was the only way I could escape!"
"Say you love me, Mandoline!" He cried, half in pain, half in anger. "Say it!" He raised the poker higher.Mandoline struggled in his arms, sobbing in fear.
"I can't Edward!I can't! Its not true!"Mandoline wept, her eyes wide with fear."I could never love you!Please! Let me go! What have I done to you?"She sank down, Edward staring at her in despiration.
She was still so beautiful, even now. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, her dark hair tumbling down her back. In a plain white nightdress she looked just like she had on her wedding night.
He hated her when she looked at him like that. They reflected to monster he had become, his love becoming a twisted obsession, his strength so easily broken.
And she didnt love him.He would have died for her, he would have done anything for her - and yet she refused him.
He punched her again, watching the blood run down her lips and down her neck. Her eyes fluttered to a close, her body limp in his arms. Had he killed her?He could not live with out her- she was his reason the breathe, the wind in his face, the passion in his heart.
To be continued...THIS isnt the end of the chapter-but i will write more later!
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