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Creative Writing: West Carmichael Is Not My Name

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West Carmichael is not my real name.

It is the name I pulled from thin air over five hundred years ago. I don’t come from royalty—I come from the dregs of the ethereal. As the King’s assassin, I have more blood on my hands than most. I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve anyone.

But I will keep her safe. Even if I die trying.

Evangeline Black.

My name sounds like the heroine of a historical romance novel – not that I read those or anything. My life so far: Dead parents? Check. Broken heart? Check. Evil mistress of darkness, hell-bent on power and thirsty for my death? Big. Honking. Check. But this mess won’t get cleaned up by itself. I’ve got a job to do.

As these two reluctant hearts fight their pull, they must decide if they want

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