Taken by the Troll

By Cleo Honeypot

Violet thought she knew what would happen when she was taken from her home in the middle of the night and left in the woods. She hadn't expected to be rescued, let alone by a massive, gentle stone troll. But now, she's wondering just how much of him she can make hard as stone.

A short erotica about the kindness of being sacrificed to the gentle embrace of the wilds.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cleo Honeypot
• Release date: Jul 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463537206

Cleo Honeypot

Just a small town girl who likes her monsters. Smut with heart.

Book preview

Taken by the Troll

By Cleo Honeypot

Copyright © 2019 by Cleo Honeypot

Written by Cleo Honeypot

Cover Design by Cleo Honeypot

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher and/or copyright holder.

Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic content. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older.

Violet had known that she was in trouble when they rounded her up from her little home on the edge of the forest and tossed her in the back of the wagon like little more than a sack of potatoes. The harvest season had been hard and sickness had taken the village nearby. And while she was an accomplished healer and wise woman, she couldn’t save everyone. This particular illness had taken many young and weak - children, the elderly, women who’d recently given birth. Blame had to be assigned somewhere and, well, the local parish had decided she was to be the scapegoat, calling her a witch and worse.

And so, into the mountains she was taken, her breath fogging the air above her.

They hadn’t even allowed her to grab anything warm. She shivered under her thin cloak, the wood under her cold. Her legs were partly bare to the cold, winter air. From her vantage point, she could see the dark branches of the winter-bare trees above, could hear the wagon wheels clattering against the frozen path as she was driven higher and higher into the mountains.

The old stone circle - the one that had been there before the village. That had to be where they were taking her. To sacrifice her? To abandon her? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she was cold and her head throbbed where they’d struck her when she fought back, that her wrists were raw and as cold as the bare skin of