Pandora was my haven. I ended up in this place more than I liked. Tonight it was red wine, a lot of it, who was my company. I gulped it down until I could no longer feel her inside my head. I prayed for unconsciousness, for the darkness to swallow me up. There was no comfort in a world you knew you could never be a part if, no comfort in knowing that there was no end to it. There was no point to living. To die was my only way out of the nightmare I could not wake up from.
To die was not an easy option for me. Where would my soul go? Was I damned to an eternal afterlife in Hell? Could He forgive my sins and allow me bliss? How could God forgive an unclean monster like me? How could he forgive the things I have done in my unnaturally long years?
I glared at the empty bottle of red wine. Four bottles in and my mind swirled with a mess of ragged thoughts, of self-loathing and hate. My path had come full circle. Drinking had once again become my comfort and my enemy. How had I allowed this to happen?
I pushed away from the counter and rocked back unsteadily on my heels, suddenly feeling the alcohol grip me. Hands caught me around the waist. I held on to muscular arms and could not think clearly enough to pull away.
“Whoa there,” said the deep voice that came with the arms.
Glancing up I saw a pair of green eyes.
“I think you have had a little too much to drink,” he smiled, his voice rich and deep.
“I never have too much,” my words were slurred.
The strong hands helped me in to my chair. He was solid, safe. I shook my head to clear the dizziness.
The tanned man was staring at me, seeing what all humans saw; the high heeled boots riding high up my legs, the tight black jeans hugging the curves of my bum and hips enticingly. He admired my flat stomach and the taut material of the black top I wore, stretching over heavy breasts (his eyes lingered there longer than was polite). He took in the jet black of my long, slightly curled hair and the paleness of my skin. His eyes settled for a long time on my face; the full pouting lips, straight nose and charcoal coloured eyes, lined with long eyelashes so thick they cast shadows over my cheekbones.
I glanced up at him beneath those thick eyelashes and allowed a blush to bring life to my skin. His own eyes, the colour of molten emeralds, darkened with lust.
I watched his lips as he spoke. “Do you have a home I can get you to?”
There was a reason I did not want to do that. A reason I should not allow this man, another man, to take me home. The thought of being alone, of listening to the phone shriek and reverberate throughout my apartment, sickened me. There was another reason I should not let this man take me by the hand and lead me from Pandora.

 About The Author-

Victoria Ruth Limbert, born and raised in Lincoln, England and the youngest of 5 (the hardships)
I am the Author of my debut novel Lilith, the first book in a series I am writing called The Twin Soul Novels. The books follow Annette and the She-Demon Lilith as they work together, on a shaky truce, to survive the human and the demon worlds.
As a child I wrote a 70 page story about demons, vampires and other dark things no stable child should write about. As an adult, I took that child's story and turned it in to a full length novel. Now I work towards my dream and hope people enjoy my books. Be aware that some themes are incredibly dark, disturbing and for adult eyes only.


@VickyLimbert (twitter)