The Becoming by Lilith Thorn 💕 Guest Post, Book Tour & Gift Card Giveaway 💕 (Paranormal Romance)

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Niamh is a good wife. She learned early on that crossing her husband had consequences. Living quietly in the shadowed cage he has formed around her, Niamh suffers his secrets and bares the scars they leave behind.

On the night of her biggest humiliation Caleb enters the ballroom changing Niamh’s course forever. He brings safety to her dark world and introduces her to the possibility of escape. Will Niamh’s love for Caleb be the key to her freedom or will it be her undoing?

My Name Was Niamh

By: Lilith Thorn

My name was Niamh. I was born before you were, before your grandparents and may have lived alongside their ancestors.

My life started in my parents’ home. Spacious, big, solid and safe. I grew up loved and cherished, though, by today’s standards, I was held back. As I became of age, courting was my sole profession.

I treated myself like a cake decorated for a special event each time I left the house, taking extra care when there was a noteworthy bachelor on the guest list. I had a wide circle of friends which allowed me access to many gatherings all of which I used to my husband hunting advantage.

The men who showed interest soon knew if I was interested or not. I managed to do this with a grace that did not burn bridges. It wasn’t personal. We were all looking for a contract, not for love; that would come later.

Flirting safely and respectably I would travel through each event laughing, smiling, enjoying the games men and women play. There were many gentlemen to consider, each had their merits, but not all were a match. I wanted someone who was kind, someone who could support me and our future children. Someone who had roots and was well liked amongst my peers. Whether he was my age or older wasn’t of any consequence.

Faolon was a surprise. He attended many of the same events I did, but spent more time with the men, his focus being money and business not marriage. For this reason, I was surprised when he asked to be introduced to me. As he stood before me, I was struck by his features. A blush rose to my cheeks and I was unable to hold his gaze looking away first. He held my gloved hand in his as he bowed his head and desire ran through my veins striking me dumb. I still can’t recall him asking me to dance, nor do I remember consenting, but it was a beautiful memory I took home with me that evening and looked forward to repeating if he asked again.

He secured my attention quickly. Nimbly playing the game of suitor seamlessly. My parents impressed by his ambition and his station encouraged our quickening pace toward the alter. We spent afternoons walking together, chaperone in tow, ready to jump in should our hands brush together accidently. Faolon often spoke to me of the people he knew and their investments. He took particular interest in families with a long history of wealth reciting their heritage, their successes and shortcomings and each meeting he’d had with them. I found it charming that he was trying to impress me with his connections.

My parents died soon into our courtship, leaving me an orphan. They had both grown sick, my Mother passing first and my Father only days later. With no brothers or cousins to speak of, lawyers helped my Father change his will leaving their entire estate to Faolon once we married, which we did a few weeks later.

I walked down the aisle with tears in my eyes, missing my parents, my white gown truthfully displaying to all in attendance that a virgin bride would be trading her maidenhood for a husband who would keep her.

We shared our first kiss in front of our guests. He brushed my lips with his, softly, barely touching. Confused by my reaction, torn between fearing the ambiguous description of my wedding night my Mother shared with me from her sick bed to my pounding heart begging me to press my lips deeply against his and for my body to follow suit, I stood stone still, blushing and savoured the faintness of his touch.

With linked arms we walked back up the aisle, my smile wide, truly believing that I was one of the rare exceptions, lucky enough to have married for wealth and love.

Chapter Five

He closed the doors behind him and, without saying a word, beckoned me toward him. I knew what was to come next. This was a test. He had his fill while away, last night included. He had no pent-up desires, as was often the case when he was home for too long, when he couldn’t risk his local reputation doing what he liked best on any flesh but my own.

He eyed me suspiciously. “I have a gift for you.” He hinted toward his inner coat pocket with a tap of his finger. “Do you deserve what I brought for you?”

He was taunting me, treating me like the shallow puppet he thought I was. He believed I longed for him to come home with pockets filled with trinkets. If he only knew that what I longed for was for him to stay away.

“I have done nothing to deserve your mistrust.” I mustered up.

Motioning with his finger, he directed me to turn around and I obliged. Even with my back to him, I felt him approach. I swallowed the dread. After years of his advances, I should have built up a defense, but my arsenal only contained an off switch. Once the fear had been pushed down, I could become his doll. A barely-breathing version of myself, unwilling but able to do as she was told, if only to save herself the repercussions disobedience would entail.

I watched as though from above as he used his body, now pressed against mine, to guide and bend me over the writing desk. He put a hand on my head and forced it to the side, pinning me. With the other found a ‘sweet spot’ at the base of my neck, above my shoulder bone, and pierced it with his tool. Briefly losing my distance from this moment, I cried out in surprise. I had forgotten the sharpness of this exchange. His lips fenced in the flow of blood and as he tasted me. Every now and again, he would attempt to torment me with a whisk of his tongue. Pressing into my back was the gift hidden in his pocket. I recognized the shape of it immediately. A bottle of perfume. What else would he bring me from Paris, from anywhere? It was what he always brought me.

Born in Dundas, ON, Lilith Thorn is a restless wanderer. Her first move was to St. Catharines where she earned a Theatre degree at Brock University. Despite her parents’ wish that she would return home and work at McDonalds after graduating, Lilith refused and instead moved to Toronto to give acting the ‘Old College Try.’ After years of sacrificing her other passions for the stage and an empty bank account, she put away those dreams to say “Yes” to a different adventure. This took her to Dublin, Ireland for a few years where she met, fell in love with, and married another Canadian who took her to the one place she said she’d never live: Yellowknife. After nearly a decade in Canada’s Great White North, Lilith looks forward to further adventures with her husband and two children, just about anywhere.

Lilith Thorn is a pen name, the pseudonym used to protect the innocent; that is, so she hopefully never has to explain to her mother-in-law over dinner that she has written an erotic novel.