Title: Sinnergog - Darkroom Saga Book 6 Part 2
Author: Poppet
Genre: Thriller/Horror
Release Date: November 19. 2017
Synopsis
The Darkroom saga comes to a close in this epic final installment. Victor Ward is faced with his demons once and for all. Alpha has Polina and is trying to extract vital intel on Victor's whereabouts. The Sinnergog is the fortress where Victor is headed. Severing all ties to his past he takes to his wings with his army to take down his father's empire. Once faced with the final moments he can't do it. He leaves his father alive. He tells himself it's because of pride, he needs to break his father in every way, spiritually, emotionally, and psychologically. The ensuing repercussions of this misstep turn the tables. Everything has gone horribly wrong! There are secrets Victor never knew, there are so many skeletons in the closet and they all come tumbling out. Victor stands in the midst of his very own Golgotha, shattered. The end is nigh. And even Victor doesn't know the hour. Warning: This novel is not for sensitive readers. It contains scenes of extreme brutality, torture, rape, abuse, misogyny, excessive violence, blasphemy, disturbing scientific practices and triggers for survivors of religious abuse.Purchase your copy today!
Excerpt
Cortisol muddies my blood and the urgency of survival bleeds into my every cell. Adrenaline is coursing and I launch for the hand holding the gun, gripping his wrist and aiming it up, doing everything I can in an epic struggle with my nemesis, crunching and writhing over gravel in a bid to secure my next breath.
I finally gain the upper hand, with leverage because he’s under me, straining against his power, pissed off beyond belief that he’s of my stature and strength. Bending his hand back until the first song of bones fracturing choruses into the unhallowed evening, he gives me the second of slack I need.
I punch and punch and punch, unleashing every atom of hatred in my bitter heart, pulverising the almighty champion boxer into a bloodied mass of fragmenting bone. His cheekbone gives and I’m fucking overjoyed that this prat gets to feel pain!
It was my daily bread, it was my manna, and it’s my duty to deliver to him his portion of my share. I pound on him until there’s no resistance left, until my knuckles are so bloodied and throbbing that I may well need a cast.
The stranger’s hand goes limp under the onslaught of my wrath, dropping his gun after I repeatedly smash his wrist into the asphalt.
I’m breathing like a rabid animal, my lungs searing, and finally I realise I broke his wrist. He’s not moving.
Staggering backward, dazed and crazed, I have the sense of mind to check his pulse.
He lives.
How unfortunate.
