by Celia Aaron
Run? I mouth. It’s a bad idea. But the men aren’t going away. We’re almost caught.
Sarah nods vigorously and mouths it back to all of us. Holding up one finger, then two, then three. We all take off, fleeing from cover and rushing at breakneck speed over the uneven terrain.
“Stop!” the man yells, but we don’t. We keep running.
Chastity is ahead of me, her black skirt flying behind her as she passes Hannah. She’s one of us, desperate to live beyond the confines of the Prophet.
Seeing her dash for freedom gives me a second wind, and I hurdle a small fallen tree, my feet skidding on dead leaves when I land. I stay upright, barely, and barrel down a hill, my feet splashing in the cold water at the bottom of the hollow as I fall forward and dig my nails into the dirt on the other side, pulling myself up and out.
Eve yells behind me, and I turn to see her fall. Her ankle is caught between two roots, and she’s fighting like a wild animal to free herself.
“Go!” she yells and wrenches her foot loose.
I climb the side of the hollow until it levels out enough for me to gain speed.
“Get off me!” Eve’s scream chills me far more than the frigid water, and I don’t have to look back to know she’s been caught.
Sarah is ahead of me, Chastity is out of sight, and Hannah is struggling up from the bottom of the hollow.
I keep going, pushing myself even as my muscles burn and saplings scratch and pull at me. One foot after the other, my thin flats doing nothing to cushion my footfalls against the cold, hard earth.
Shouts erupt from behind me, more men coming after us. I have to make it. Down the other side of the hollow I go, the ground sloping away at a harsh angle. I slide on the pine straw, then roll and hit the bottom with a thud. The fence can’t be far.
“Throw it over!” Sarah cries from somewhere to my left.
I sprint toward the sound, my lungs burning, my mind starting to fuzz, and my muscles screaming in protest. I crest the next rise and see Sarah throwing her dress atop the barbed wire. Susannah is already climbing to the top. By the time I get to the fence, she’s stuck, the barbs clinging to her dress and digging into her skin. She howls like a wounded animal, but still tries to throw herself across the metal, to make it to the ground.
Chastity drops her skirt, then tosses it on top of Sarah’s dress.
“I’m going.” Sarah jumps on the fence and climbs. She makes it over the top, then leans forward to try and help Susannah wrest herself free from the barbs.
Chastity begins the climb. “Hurry, we’re going to make it!”
Once she’s high enough, it’s my turn. I’m getting out of here, away from the Prophet. Away from Adam. I can’t look back, not even for him.
I take one step toward the fence, then arms wrap around me like iron bars and yank me back into a hard chest. “Where do you think you’re going, little lamb?”
Can’t Handle the Cliff?
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Afterword
You made it this far, and I hope you keep going. Thank you.
I’ve written this Afterword because I felt the need to … not explain, exactly … but to show the underpinnings of this story. I do this knowing full well that this series may offend some people, and that’s okay.
The inspiration for this tale came from my love of the dark. I’m certain comparisons will be drawn between it and my Acquisitions Series, which is also a creepy southern gothic of mine. However, the Cloister Series has the added element of religion. As a lifelong resident of Alabama (Roll Tide), I’ve had quite a bit of religion. There are churches here now that preach some of the same lessons as my entirely fictional Heavenly Ministries. There is also a church in Birmingham that pushed the state senate to allow it to have its own police force. The bill actually passed committee, but died in session. All of these facts were ingredients for this tale.
In addition to influences from my home state, I read extensively about Charles Manson and the FLDS sect. In particular, the books Member of the Family: My Story of Charles Manson, Life Inside His Cult, and the Darkness That Ended the Sixties by Dianne Lake and Deborah Herman and Escape by Carolyn Jessop and Laura Palmer, informed my crafting of the dark world of The Cloister. I’d like to thank these women for sharing their stories and giving outsiders a view of what it was like inside the funnel of a brainwashing, abusive tornado. Some of the situations in The Cloister Series were actually experienced by women in Manson’s cult and the FLDS.
Also, I must thank the brilliantly creative mind of Margaret Atwood. Her Handmaid’s Tale has lived in my brain since I read it as a teen, and it grows more powerful with each passing year. Along with her, the works of Sheri S. Tepper, especially The Gate to Women’s Country, is constantly part of my creative stew.
Whenever I write a dark book, I always think of it as a feminist scream. If you just examine the surface, you see abuse, degradation, and horrible situations for women. Dig a little deeper (and read a little further), and you’ll find redemption, strength, and above all—vengeance on those who deserve it.
Delilah’s story will continue with the next installment, The Prophet.
Brace yourselves.
Acknowledgments
To my rock, Mr. Aaron. When he read my draft, and I asked him his thoughts, all he could say was, “It’s crazy… It’s just so crazy.” Thanks for the encouragement, honey!
To Viv, who read my draft even though she had her own book to work on. I’m glad you said, “it’s not that dark” even after my usual editor quit because of the “emotional and physical toll” of reading such dark content. Eek.
To Kristi, who read it and loved it and didn’t judge me. (I mean, if the goodness-and-light K. Webster read it and didn’t bat an eyelash, then it’s not so dark, right?)
To the ladies of Author Squad, especially Skye, who had my back when I came stressing about how this book will be received, y’all are some standup writers and humans, and I want to be you when I grow up.
To Becca for taking me on last minute and doing an excellent edit on a book that was a smidge outside your comfort zone.
To Stacey and Trina for always finding my typos.
To Riskay, for singing the song “Smell Yo’ Dick” so convincingly and giving me ideas.
To my Rabid Readers who ate this ARC like it was a super tasty treat. Thank you for loving my words almost as much as I love you!
To my Acquisitions for always being there for me. A safe place to post tentacle photos (*shivers*), and such is always a necessity in life, I find.
And to you, dear reader, for joining me on this dark, freaky trip through the looking glass. Sorry-not-sorry about the cliffhanger. You’ll get over it in a month when The Prophet releases, promise. Thank you for reading, and for trusting me to deliver a HEA, even in the dark.
xx,
Celia
Also by Celia Aaron
Dark Romance
Acquisition: The Complete Series
Darkness lurks in the heart of the Louisiana elite, and only one will be able to rule them as Sovereign. Sinclair Vinemont will compete for the title, and has acquired Stella Rousseau for that very purpose. Breaking her is part of the game. Loving her is the most dangerous play of all.
*includes Sinclair, Counsellor, Magnate, and Sovereign
Blackwood
I dig. It’s what I do. I’ll literally use a shovel to answer a question. Some answers, though, have been buried too deep for too long. But I’ll find those, too. And I know where to dig—the Blackwood Estate on the edge of the Mississippi Delta. Garrett Blackwood is the only thing standing between me and the truth. A broken man—one with desires that dance in the darkest part of my soul—he’s either my savior or my enemy. I
’ll dig until I find all his secrets. Then I’ll run so he never finds mine. The only problem? He likes it when I run.
Dark Protector
From the moment I saw her through the window of her flower shop, something other than darkness took root inside me. Charlie shone like a beacon in a world that had long since lost any light. But she was never meant for me, a man that killed without remorse and collected bounties drenched in blood.
I thought staying away would keep her safe, would shield her from me. I was wrong. Danger followed in my wake like death at a slaughter house. I protected her from the threats that circled like black buzzards, kept her safe with kill after kill.
But everything comes with a price, especially second chances for a man like me.
Killing for her was easy. It was living for her that turned out to be the hard part.
Nate
I rescued Sabrina from a mafia bloodbath when she was 13. As the new head of the Philly syndicate, I sent her to the best schools to keep her as far away from the life--and me--as possible. It worked perfectly. Until she turned 18. Until she came home. Until I realized that the timid girl was gone and in her place lived a smart mouth and a body that demanded my attention. I promised myself I'd resist her, for her own good.
I lied.
The Bad Guy
My name is Sebastian Lindstrom, and I’m the villain of this story.
I’ve decided to lay myself bare. To tell the truth for once in my hollow life, no matter how dark it gets. And I can assure you, it will get so dark that you’ll find yourself feeling around the blackened corners of my mind, seeking a door handle that isn’t there.
Don’t mistake this for a confession. I neither seek forgiveness nor would I accept it. My sins are my own. They keep me company. Instead, this is the true tale of how I found her, how I stole her, and how I lost her.
She was a damsel, one who already had her white knight. But every fairy tale has a villain, someone waiting in the wings to rip it all down. A scoundrel who will set the world on fire if that means he gets what he wants. That’s me.
I’m the bad guy.
Contemporary Romance
The Elder
A shocking murder.
A suspicious son.
A dedicated detective.
In Azalea, Mississippi, the only thing hotter than the summer days are the men of the King family. When the patriarch Randall King is found dead, Detective Arabella Matthews will race the clock to stop the killer from striking again. Benton, the eldest of the King siblings, has to decide if he wants to cooperate with the feisty detective or conduct his own investigation. The more he finds out about his father—and the closer he gets to Arabella—the more he wants to keep her safe. But the killer has different plans . . .
You’ve Got Fail
She's driving me crazy. Or am I the one driving myself crazy? I can't tell anymore. Ever since Scarlet Rocket showed up in the flesh, she's turned my structured world upside down. My neatly ordered life, my hand-painted Aliens versus Vampires figurines, my expertly curated comics collection--none of these things provide any shelter from her sexy, sassy onslaught. It's a disaster of my own making. She didn't exist until I created her. Now, I can't get her out of my mind, and all I want to do is get her into my bed. Never mind that she's a thief, a liar, a con-woman. Every step she takes leaves chaos in her wake. And damn if I don't want more of it.
Kicked
Trent Carrington.
Trent Mr. Perfect-Has-Everyone-Fooled Carrington.
He’s the star quarterback, university scholar, and happens to be the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. He shines at any angle, and especially under the Saturday night stadium lights where I watch him from the sidelines. But I know the real him, the one who broke my heart and pretended I didn’t exist for the past two years.
I’m the third-string kicker, the only woman on the team and nothing better than a mascot. Until I’m not. Until I get my chance to earn a full scholarship and join the team as first-string. The only way I'll make the cut is to accept help from the one man I swore never to trust again. The problem is, with each stolen glance and lingering touch, I begin to realize that trusting Trent isn’t the problem. It’s that I can’t trust myself when I’m around him.
Tempting Eden
A modern re-telling of Jane Eyre that will leave you breathless...
Jack England
Eden Rochester is a force. A whirlwind of intensity and thinly-veiled passion. Over the past few years, I’ve worked hard to avoid my passions, to lock them up so they can’t harm me—or anyone else—again. But Eden Rochester ignites every emotion I have. Every glance from her sharp eyes and each teasing word from her indulgent lips adds more fuel to the fire. Resisting her? Impossible. From the moment I held her in my arms, I had to have her. But tempting her into opening up could cost me my job and much, much more.
Eden Rochester
When Jack England crosses my path and knocks me off my high horse, something begins to shift. Imperceptible at first, the change grows each time he looks into my eyes or brushes against my skin. He’s my assistant, but everything about him calls to me, tempts me. And once I give in, he shows me who he really is—dominant, passionate, and with a dark past. After long days of work and several hot nights, I realize the two of us are bound together. But my secrets won’t stay buried, and they cut like a knife.
Bad Bitch
Bad Bitch Series, Book 1
They call me the Bad Bitch. A lesser woman might get her panties in a twist over it, but me? I'm the one who does the twisting. Whether it's in the courtroom or in the bedroom, I've never let anyone - much less a man - get the upper hand.
Except for that jerk attorney Lincoln Granade. He's dark, mysterious, smoking hot and sexy as hell. He's nothing but a bad, bad boy playing the part of an up and coming premiere attorney. I'm not worried about losing in a head to head battle with this guy. But he gets me all hot and bothered in a way no man has ever done before. I don't like a person being under my skin this much. It makes me want to let go of all control, makes me want to give in. This dangerous man makes me want to submit to him completely, again, and again, and again...
Hardass
Bad Bitch Series, Book 2
I cave in to no one. My hardass exterior is what makes me one of the hottest defense lawyers around. It's why I'm the perfect guy to defend the notorious Bayou Butcher serial killer - and why I'll come out on top.
Except this new associate I've hired is unnaturally skilled at putting chinks in my well-constructed armor. Her brazen talk and fiery attitude make me want to take control of her and silence her - in ways that will keep both of us busy till dawn. She drives me absolutely 100% crazy, but I need her for this case. I need her in my bed. I need her to let loose the man within me who fights with rage and loves with scorching desire...
Total Dick
Bad Bitch Series, Book 3
I’m your classic skirt chaser. A womanizer. A total d*ck. My reputation is dirtier than a New Orleans street after a Mardi Gras parade. I take unwinnable cases and win them. Where people see defeat, I see a big fat paycheck. And when most men see rejection, it’s because the sexiest woman at the bar has already promised to go home with me.
But Scarlett Carmichael is the one person I can’t seem to conquer. This too-cool former debutante has it all—class, attitude, and a body that begs to be worshiped. I’ve never worked with a person like her before—hell, I’ve never played nice with anyone before in my life, and I’m not about to start with her. This woman wasn’t meant to be played nicely with. It’s going to be dirty. It’s going to be hot. She’s about to spend a lot of time with the biggest d*ck in town. And she’s going to love every minute of it…
Fantasy Romance
Incubus
An incubus who feeds off the sexual desires of others, Roth de Lis has never been denied the pleasure of a woman's body...until now. Lilah, once a warrior maiden in the service of a goddess, languishes on earth after bei
ng cast out from the slopes of Mount Olympus.
Lilah will do anything to return home, including betraying Roth. As she spins her web of lies, Roth begins a slow, wicked seduction that eventually threatens to consume them both. But when Lilah's deceit comes to light, will their torrid love affair be able to overcome a pact with the darkest of gods?
The Reaper’s Mate
This job. Boring is too colorful a word for it. I’ve been escorting humans to the afterlife for millennia. I’m over it. But when you’re the son of the two greatest reapers of all time, reaping is in your blood. My latest appointment is with one Annabelle Lyric, a twenty-eight year old New Orleans party planner. Snoozefest. But there is one bonus to this assignment: it’s Halloween night. In New Orleans. And she’s attending a posh party whilst unaware of her impending demise. I’ve been tasked with taking Annabelle’s soul right after the masked ball. The good news? I’ll fit right in with all the costumed partygoers. The bad news? That hits me when I realize Annabelle is much more than my next victim, she’s my fated mate.
