Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
NOW THEY BOTH WANT THE SAME WOMAN.
Jekyll loves Catherine. Hyde is obsessed with her. And neither is willing to let her go.
HYDE
I am the shiver up your spine.
The movement in the shadows.
The monster stalking you through the night.
Catherine is my reason for existing.
My obsession.
No locked door, chain, or cage will keep me from her.
She may fear the darkness now, but soon I will make her crave it.
And nothing will stop me from claiming her as mine.
JEKYLL
I know it is wrong.
Each time I take the formula, he grows stronger.
And so does his obsession for Catherine.
I should protect her from the monster I’ve unleashed.
But I cannot stop him, because we both want the same thing… her.
JEKYLL is a Dark Gothic romance novella from USA Today bestselling author Zoe Blake—a twisted reimagining of the classic tale of obsession, duality, and the monster hiding within
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
CATHERINE
Imoved my arm and heard the rattle of a chain.
Forcing my eyes open, I blinked against the bright sunlight filtering through my lace bedroom curtains. I stared at the delicate pattern of twisting, turning shadows the light cast through the lace as my mind tried to focus.
A dull pain in my shoulder once again had me trying to lower my arm, to no avail.
A chain rattled against the bedpost.
This time, the sound jolted me fully awake. I stretched my neck to gaze at my shackled wrist.
Flashes from last night bounced around my brain.
A nightmarish kaleidoscope.
Cruel scenes of sex, violence, and fear.
With my heart clawing to escape my chest, I looked around my bedroom. It appeared to be empty. My gaze fixated on the closed bathroom door. Was he inside? My lower lip trembled as I waited, straining to hear even the slightest sound.
Seconds passed.
Fear closed my throat when I thought I heard the scuff of a boot heel on tile.
I waited.
I could barely hear over the pounding of my heart and my own erratic breathing.
Several more seconds passed by.
My eyes watered as I stared at the bathroom doorknob without blinking, waiting to see even the slightest turn.
Nothing.
I sucked air into my lungs as a lightheaded rush made the room blur and swim before my eyes.
Without thinking, I pulled on my wrist in an attempt to rub my forehead.
The chain rattled again as my wrist remained shackled to the bedpost.
I cast a glance over to where the bedroom door had been. It was now hanging by only a few screws from its last remaining hinge, a pile of splinters scattered on the floor nearby. I waited to hear heavy footfalls on the steps beyond.
Silence.
I lived in a small two-story flat in London. My bedroom and the attached bathroom were the only rooms on the second floor, with just a tiny landing at the top of the stairs. If he was still here, he must be downstairs where he wouldn’t hear the grate of the metal chain against the wooden bedpost. Hopefully.
Locked around my wrist was one end of a pair of handcuffs. It had a longer-than-usual chain in the middle and the other bracelet was attached to the bedpost.
A hiss escaped through my teeth as I tried to turn my body and rise up on my knees. Every muscle screamed in protest. I glanced down at my naked form. My vintage-inspired nightgown with the pretty pink flowers was gone. On the top of my left breast was the faint red outline of a bite mark. Finger-shaped marks marred my inner thighs. Never in my life had I been taken so brutally. It was as if I had let a wild animal into my bedroom.
There wasn’t an inch of my body he hadn’t touched, kissed… bruised.
And he had pushed himself inside my…
No, I wouldn’t think about that now. I needed to get these handcuffs off. I desperately wanted a long, hot shower. I needed to wash the depraved, lust-filled night off my skin. If only it could have been so easy to also erase it from my mind.
Clenching my jaw against the pain, I shifted my hips and rose up onto my knees. I gripped the bedpost for purchase as I looked down at my wrist. Thankfully, there weren’t any red marks from the handcuffs. No visible ones at least.
I lifted my left hand to my throat as I glanced at my reflection in the glass covering the peony print hanging over my bed. There were several round marks encircling my neck where his mouth had sucked and bitten at the soft skin of my throat. Never mind that now. A scarf would cover it. I needed to focus on getting free.
I gripped the handcuff chain and yanked it upward, intending to pull it up and over the end of the bedpost. It didn’t budge. The handcuff bracelet was tightly secured around a decorative indentation in the bedpost. I yanked again. The chain rattled but didn’t move.