Want to read another reverse harem romance while you wait? Check out my completedSainthood Series. Available in ebook, paperback, and audiobook format. Click here for the series box set or here forResurrection, book one.
If you would like to read a stand-alone reverse harem romance, downloadSurviving Amber Springshere.
If you would like more dark bully romance with a secret society twist, check out myRydeville Eliteseries. DownloadCruel Intentionshere or theTrilogy Box Sethere.
Everything changed the night my dad died.
The night I met Saint, Galen, Caz, and Theo.
Those manipulative a-holes set out to ruin me after our hot night together, but they didn’t realize you can’t destroy something that’s already broken. And it only works if the victim cares.
Which I don’t.
Because I’ve been in hell for years, and nothing penetrates the steel walls I’ve erected.
Until The Sainthood decides I belong to them and cracks appear in my veneer. Their cruel games, harsh words, and rough touch awakens something inside me, and now, I’m in trouble.
They draw me deeper into their dangerous world, until I’m in the middle of all the violence and gang warfare, tangled up in all the secrets and lies, and there’s no turning back.
Because they own me.
And nothing has ever felt so right.
I’m exactly where I should be.
But with enemies on all sides, survival becomes a deadly game with no guarantees.
And, sometimes, saints become sinners.
* * *
Available now in ebook, paperback, and audiobook.
Turn the page to read a sample.
RESURRECTION – SAMPLE
PROLOGUE
Spring Break before Senior Year
Sharp pain penetrates my chest cavity, aiming straight for my heart, like a thousand tiny pinpricks digging into smooth flesh.
He’s gone.
Left this world without any warning.
And I’ll never see him again.
It hurts, and the pain wants to embed deep. To burrow straight through to my soul. To inflict the worst damage imaginable. The pain pushes and pokes at soft tissue, but it’s no good. It won’t advance any further. Because I learned to lock that shit up when I was thirteen years old.
I grab the bottle of vodka from the empty passenger seat of my Lexus SUV, uncapping the lid and bringing the glass to my lips. I chug it like it’s water, feeling lost as the alcohol glides down my parched throat.
This car was the last gift he bought me, a couple months ago, as an early eighteenth birthday present. It’s an LX570 SUV with bullet-resistant glass, an explosion-mitigating floor, and a bunch of other protective features I considered way over the top.
But maybe, there was a reason for it.
The car swerves on the road as I take another mouthful of vodka. The approaching car flashes its lights, the driver angrily shaking his fist as he passes by. I shove up my middle finger, hissing under my breath, even if he’s right.
