{"product_id":"the-portrait-of-our-damnation-signed","title":"The Portrait of Our Damnation *signed*","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAfter accepting a commission to paint an infamous 1800s duke, Isabel expects a challenge… not the feeling that something is very, very wrong.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eIt starts normally. Reference photos. Historical notes. A stack of the duke’s journals, sent by his descendant so she can “get him right.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAt first, it’s just research. Until she starts reading.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eThe duke writes like a man in love. And he’s writing about her. Not in a distant, poetic way. In details that are too specific. Too close. Moments she’s never lived. Conversations she’s never had.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eBut they don’t feel imagined. They feel familiar. Like something she’s forgotten… not something she’s never known.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eShe brings it up. The descendant laughs it off. Tells her she’s getting too deep into the work. That it happens. That artists lose the line between themselves and what they’re creating.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eIt should make sense. It almost does. But then he starts showing up more. Checking in. Bringing food. Letting himself in like it’s normal. Like he belongs there. And every time she questions something, he has an answer ready. Calm. Reasonable.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eJust enough to make her hesitate. Just enough to make her doubt herself instead.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eBecause he doesn’t push hard. Not at first. He just… stays. And the longer he stays, the harder it becomes to tell where her space ends, and he begins.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eMeanwhile, the journals don’t stop. They get worse. More intimate. More detailed. More \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan class=\"a-text-italic\"\u003ehers\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAnd something in her starts to break open.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eEvery year, she falls in love with the same man. Every July, she dies. Every autumn, she comes back… with no memory of it ever happening.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eUntil now. Now it’s bleeding through. The journals aren’t stories. They’re her life. Over and over again.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAnd the portrait she’s painting...It isn’t just a painting. It’s a way back. To him. To the truth. To the witch who’s been killing her, again and again.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eBut finishing it means leaving. And leaving means getting past the man who’s made himself part of her life. The one who watches her too closely. Who decides what she needs before she asks. Who smiles like everything is fine… even when it isn’t.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eBecause the closer she gets to finishing the painting, the more he changes. Less patient. Less gentle. Like he knows what she’s trying to do.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAnd he’s not going to let her walk away. Not this time.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"KMChaosBookReads Indie Book Shop","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46828502581437,"sku":null,"price":13.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0752\/7461\/7021\/files\/IMG_2620.jpg?v=1779984678","url":"https:\/\/kmchaosbookreads.com\/products\/the-portrait-of-our-damnation-signed","provider":"KMChaosBookReads Indie Book Shop","version":"1.0","type":"link"}