This short story is a delicious morsel colored with the dark sensuality of poetic language and spiced with the unexpected dab of raw imagery that betrays its true nature. Narrated in the first person, it is a tale told by a lover, a monster, who awaits his mistress.
This mistress is not your usual fare. “Where she slept, I never knew, but the smell of her skin betrayed a history of quartering in haylofts, ditches, even the sweet tang of an abbatoir once saturated her rags.” It is soon apparent that the narrator is a slave to something altogether different, and that he is an eager, willing slave as he owns that “I love her. I feed her, she feeds me, and we take as we give, in blood, and flesh, and the perfect submission of her moist depth under my hips.”
I love this story, and my only complaint is that it is entirely too short. It is, however, rich in language, beautifully lyrical, suspenseful, yet raw and dark without a single drop of blood spilled. It definitely makes me want to read the rest of the series.