enchanting about him, and then there was the wealth that he stank of; he was the perfect prey.
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Affair with the Dancer, is the heartbreaking, spellbinding, staggering saga of two men, trapped in the taboos imposed by their culture. Beaten, held down by the chains of the wealth he had inherited from his father, Henry Johnson wanted nothing more than to be freed from the clutches of the Society, to soar high and fall in love with the men that came his way. And then Phoenix came in, beautiful, dazzling, the embodiment of all that the Society hated_ someone that chained Henry down with bonds stronger than iron bonds. . . someone that would prove to be his fatal attraction, like the beautiful flash of lightening that dazzles before it destroys. . .
The blood saga from Ugochukwu Kingsley Ani
A tale of a dysfunctional family that was the darling of the public but rotten inside . . .
Of a dancer that parlayed his incredible beauty into a thing of desire for the public . . .
Intrigue . . . suspense . . . sex . . . murder . . .
Two men . . .
One love affair . . .
Secrets to be kept to the grave . . .
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PROLOGUE
There are times when, upon the occurrence of a certain event, time itself will seem to stand still; it would seem to be suspended above the specter of space. That is the feeling I have in the pit of my stomach at that moment when I watched the life leave the body of a man, when the life seemed to seep from him. It was a big moment and I thought in mind: Oh my God, Phoenix what have you done?
And there was the guy himself, standing still and erect, and he looked beautiful; in the flash of the light the guy was a stunning beauty, and the Angel of death itself. In the stillness of the night Phoenix seemed to be the very embodiment of the things that was scary about the night. He was a murderer, one without a soul, and he had killed someone who loved him dearly. It was a man who had loved him enough to think to die for him. But the society would not have understood that kind of love, that love which existed between two men, one that may be pure and yet misunderstood in every way.
Phoenix, you are a murderer. I know what you did, and I think I will tell on you. But from the look on that stunning face which had been calculating enough to take the life of another person, there seemed to be nothing that the guy could not handle, no scandal he could not take and then turn to his own advantage and popularity, the love of the screens, the siren that drew all in and left nothing of you when he was done with you.
It takes a special kind of person to think to take the life of another person, and Phoenix was that kind of special person. He had the guts and the special kind of mercilessness to do it, and there was that look in his face, that cold dead look of triumph in his face that showed that the guy knew what he was doing. And what if he was caught? What would happen?
‘He was trying to forcefully have sex with me, and that was the reason why I had to defend myself,’ he would probably say to the screens as the throng of the masses that loved him and yet hated him would weave a massive demonstration in his favor.
But I know what you did, Phoenix, and though you may hide behind the mask of your beauty and your good show of yourself to the world, I know you, I know what you did.
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