Amo Jones

Amo Jones – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:24:17 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Amo Jones – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 Playhouse (Cursed Lovers Duet #1) Read Online Amo Jones http://www.wownovels.com/playhouse-cursed-lovers-duet-1-read-online-amo-jones Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:24:17 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/playhouse-cursed-lovers-duet-1-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia Authors: Amo Jones Series: Cursed Lovers Duet Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)

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I practiced my wedding vows at fourteen. “I do.” “I’ll ruin you.”

Something old? The script we live by.

Something new? His best friend in my bed. Something borrowed? The time he has left.

Something blue? The color of his corpse once I’m through.

Most people run from their nightmares. I married mine.

This marriage was supposed to be simple. A target. A timeline. A story.

I was never supposed to want Asher Jameson.

Five years younger, a famous snowboarder with millions of fans, he showed up the day after I sealed my vows and slowly became everything I didn't know I needed. My soulmate in a best friend.

Until he went distant.

Now we're all heading to Veilarath, the winter island where folklore runs deeper than the snow. I should be happy when my husband tells me Asher is coming. But he doesn’t come alone. He brings his new fiancée.

It doesn’t matter that my closest friends are all here too. It doesn’t matter that he’s not quite the Asher I thought I knew.

What matters?

He’s mine.

Now the script we live by is burning, my best friend is in her bed, the time we all have left is running out, and I’m about to learn that the only thing more dangerous than the life I live…

is Asher Jameson Delacroix

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

"When you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives.” –

Lauren Eden

Désamour, France

November, Date unknown

It reeked of splintered wood and sins too ancient to name. Sins that never got forgiven—just shoved into drawers and forgotten. The kids waited their turn outside like always. Knees jackhammering. Mouths sealed. Eyes too wide, too hungry. Listening to adults drop their voices when they thought only God could hear.

God, and whoever crouched behind the mesh screen.

“Bless me, Father,” a man said, voice thick. “I’ve heard things."

His breath snagged. Rosary beads clicked once, then stopped.

“Who?” the priest asked, but he knew deep down what was coming.

A pause.

“The House.”

The children didn’t know which house.

Some families didn't need street names. They had titles. They had rules. They had permission to reach into your chest and rearrange your organs.

The adults whispered la maison du mal when they thought the walls had ears. Said it while spitting on the ground and crossing themselves, like naming it meant they weren't already dead.

Three branches. One root. One poison running through all of them.

A garden in France, someone once whispered. A place that grew beauty like a threat. The priest didn't care what they whispered, so long as it kept them all away from Désamour.

“Delacroix," he said, as if it were nothing.

The priest flinched like the name had hands.

“And the others?” the priest asked, because curiosity gets holy men killed. "What have you heard?"

The children sat right out the door. He wondered if they were listening, they probably were. They didn’t know words like surveillance or intel yet. They just knew the feeling of being looked at, even when no one was there.

It was the priests job to ensure no one ever heard of them here. Especially in Désamour. He would need to form a way around this.

The man cleared his throat. “They have a book, Father—"

The priest’s hand slams against the wood between them—crack—like a gunshot in the cramped dark. “Enough.”

His voice isn’t soft anymore. It’s gravel and communion wine gone sour. The man jerks back; the rosary drops, clatters, stills.

“I know,” the priest says. Breath sawing. “I know what book. I know what they write in it. I know whose names are inked in blood that never dries.”

He leans forward, forehead almost brushing the lattice, eyes wild with something older than scripture. “You think confession buys you safety? Speaking their words out loud is a invitation. They hear. Always.”

The man opens his mouth—no sound. Just the wet click of fear.

Outside, the children freeze. One girl—barely ten, shoes too big, eyes too old—presses her ear harder to the door. Her pulse hammers against the wood like a second heart.

The priest lowers his voice, barely wind. “You breathe their business outside this box, and they will carve you into lessons. Not just you. Your wife. Your boy. Your mother’s grave.” He swallows, throat clicking. “They’ll make you watch while they rewrite your bloodline.”

The man’s hands shake so hard the kneeler rattles. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“Then stop.” The priest’s fingers curl through the screen, a warning. “Forget the codex. Forget the families. Forget you ever heard la mason du mal whispered like a lullaby. You carry their name past this door, you carry a target.”

The candlewax has gone brittle. Fear pools underneath the pews like spilled communion wine.

The priest exhales, slow, controlled. “Absolution’s not mine to give for this. Only silence is. Swear it.”

He nods, frantic. “I swear. On my son—on—”

“Don’t swear on anything you love.” The priest’s eyes glitter. “They collect those.”

He slides the screen shut. Darkness swallows the man’s face, but his breathing is loud, ragged, alive.

Behind the door, the girl pulls away. Her palm is sweaty against the oak. Inside her chest, something new takes root—not fear, not exactly. A seed shaped like a question.

She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s already written in the book.

They all are.

They just haven’t turned the page.

The priest tried to recover his spine. “And Le Boucher?”

Silence.

Then, barely audible—“That one isn’t theirs.”

The priest’s fingers tightened on the rosary.

“Everyone belongs to the House,” the priest said, like belief could work as armor.

“Not him,” the man replied. “He doesn’t do jobs. He does corrections.”

A scrape of fabric.

The man shifted, leaning so close to the screen the priest smelled expensive cologne and cold sweat. Rich men always wore their fear like perfume. They thought it made them untouchable.

It just made them easier to find.

“They call him Le Boucher like it’s a joke,” the man said. “Like it makes sense. Like he’s some tradesman doing a job.”

The priest opened his mouth. No sound came out.

“Boucher's cut meat,” the man continued. “They follow lines. They leave something recognizable behind.”

“He doesn’t cut,” the man said. “He takes you apart until no one can tell what you were.”

The priest's own voice was a rasp. “Why tell me this?”

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My Sweet Cyanide (The Dark Outlaw #1) Read Online Amo Jones http://www.wownovels.com/my-sweet-cyanide-the-dark-outlaw-1-read-online-amo-jones Thu, 25 Dec 2025 22:04:11 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/my-sweet-cyanide-the-dark-outlaw-1-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Biker, Dark, MC Authors: Amo Jones Series: The Dark Outlaw Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)

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She survived evil.
...Until a worse one decided she was his.

Melissa Hart clawed her way back to Westbeach with a bakery full of dark humour and a strict no-bikers rule, determined to prove she could rebuild what was stolen from her. Melissa thrives on control. But when Hella Ward rolls into town as VP of the Woodsmen MC's mother charter, her carefully constructed boundaries collapse in the most humiliating way possible—literally crashing into him, and straight onto his lap.

Hella doesn't do soft, and he sure as hell doesn't do commitment. After escaping a corrupt society that plucks kids off the street, he learned at a young age not to trust easily. But when violence spills over in the Westbeach chapter, he takes one less thing they need to worry about, Melissa.
She doesn't go down without a fight, but Hella? Fighting is what he does best. He doesn't know it yet, but this might be the one battle he doesn't win...

My Sweet Cyanide is book one in The Dark Outlaw Series by Amo Jones. A dark enemies to lovers MC romance that will test your limits, destroy the lines between love and hate, and prove that sometimes, the ones who feel nothing are the ones worth saving

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

Melissa

Bass pounds the walls of 672 Avenue as I clutch my cup of piss-cheap beer. Rugby boys flex in one corner, muscles twitching under their shirts like they’re auditioning for a calendar no one would buy.

What a fucking disappointment.

I shove my glasses up with my middle finger—a silent fuck-you. Nobody ever notices me. I’m fine with that.

Being from a small town, you learn to appreciate not being noticed. It means no one is talking shit about you behind your back.

That week.

I down what remains of the bitter liquid. Time to bail. I tried, I failed, and I don’t care because I’m comfortable being the class nerd and going through life without a collection of Uni blackout stories.

I head for the kitchen, ready to ditch, when a solid mass of meat slams into me. Or I slam into him. Same difference.

“Sorry,” I mumble, eyes trained on the sticky floor.

“No problem. Need a refill?”

My head jerks up, shock rippling through me at being acknowledged. Eddy Woolbrock. Pretty blond hair. Jawline dusted with designer stubble. Eyes that inspire girls to write bad poetry. His family are high-roller hot-shots who think they run the country. They probably do. Never really cared enough to explore his existence further.

My throat tightens. “Yeah, I was about to⁠—”

“—get another?” His mouth curls up.

I shouldn’t. I know better.

Even if his sudden focus on a girl who drowns herself in oversized hoodies and hides behind reading glasses that swallow half her face makes my pulse skip.

I have ADHD, so it won’t last—yup. It’s gone. “No, thanks.”

Side-stepping away from him, I’m ready to run back to my little coastal town in the Coromandel Peninsula when he catches me by the arm.

“Just one?” He tries puppy eyes that I’m sure work on many girls. “Hey, look, you’re room-mates with Billie, right?” He asks, as if that means anything. “She and I grew up together, I’m chill. Come!”

“Uh, yeah, but⁠—”

His fingers grip my elbow, guiding me through the crowd and into the kitchen, where three other guys stand around laughing.

I know their faces from campus. Legacy kids whose trust funds guarantee they’ll never need this degree, never need to work, never need anything but their last names.

Eddy thrusts a fresh cup into my palm. “Cheers.”

I raise mine to his. Guess I’m fucking staying. “Cheers.”

The microwave clock glares: 10:15.

Blink.

10:24.

The world spins sideways, reality bending wrong.

My legs turn to water, just... gone, as I lurch toward the stairs.

I need to get out. Out. Now.

Arms catch me before I crash, but they’re not to rescue. They’re to take.

“Whoa, you alright?” Eddy’s voice slithers from underwater, distorted and wrong.

“I barely drank anything!” I try to force someone away, but hit air. “I’m confused.”

“Confused about what?” His grip locks down, dragging me up the stairs.

Bodies press against walls, tangled together, their sounds wet and animal. Each step feels miles away, my feet barely connecting with the floor.

“My legs… they’re numb.” Fuck, Melissa. What the hell is wrong with you?

A bedroom door shimmers into existence, then vanishes as darkness swallows us whole with a click.

“Why’s it so dark?” My words drag, slurring into mush no matter how hard I fight.

“Shhhh.” His breath coats my neck with stale beer and greasy pizza.

Gravity gives way and my knees hit the ground. I pitch forward, but hands snag me, fingers digging into my arms before flinging me backward onto a mattress.

My skull bounces, my hair splaying across sheets that smell of sweat and other strangers.

“No,” I whimper, but it’s weak.

Useless.

Nothing.

“Please, what’s happening?”

Light floods the room, blinding. I squint against the burn, making out three figures leaning against the wall. Their red cups act as a salute. A toast to the slaughter.

“Cheers, geek.” A voice, not Eddy’s, slices through the haze, cold and mocking.

He crawls over me in slow motion, fingers digging into my thigh to drag me down the bed like roadkill.

“No!” I try to scream, but it’s a shattered whisper.

Useless.

Nothing.

Darkness chews at my consciousness, spitting out fragments as time passes.

The sound of a headboard slamming against the wall.

Thud, thud, thud.

His hot breath when he sucks on my neck, leaving a snail trail of saliva.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growls, driving into me with forced thrusts.

I want to scream that I’ve never been touched, that he’s stealing something I’d never be able to get back. But my tongue lies dead in my mouth, just like the rest of me.

Darkness fades in and out, tears streaming down the side of my face.

Hands. Everywhere. Too many to just be Eddy. Hands that aren’t human, just things—claws, vices, violations. Voices dissolve into static, a radio tuned to hell. By the fourth set, I’m not Melissa anymore. I’m something else.

Something broken.

Something dirty.

Nothing.

Walls bleed into shadows, the mattress hardening to a coffin. Dirt crumbles over me as their laughter echoes, a chant I’ll hear every time I close my eyes.

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Priest and his Anarchist Read Online Amo Jones http://www.wownovels.com/priest-and-his-anarchist-read-online-amo-jones Wed, 12 Feb 2025 07:22:21 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/priest-and-his-anarchist-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Virgin Authors: Amo Jones Advertisement

Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)

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People said he was emotionless. Cold. But he burned her to the ground every chance he got. Priest Hayes thought he knew everything there was to know about the society of outlaws who ran by their own set of rules, and right now, he’d just taken the gavel. It didn’t feel heavy. It felt like it belonged there all along.

In his hand.

Just like her.

But Luna Nox was the one girl he could never have. He knew that the second he fell for her. Bound by a past they both shared, their souls were connected in a way that no one would ever understand. But love isn’t always what conquers all. Sometimes, it’s the only thing you’ll surrender to.

Luna knew she had limited time to prove herself in a world that she always felt she belonged in, but that never wanted her. She had two choices. Follow her mother’s footsteps by becoming a menacing circus brat, or be led by a secret society that her father was born into. Little did she know she had no choice. The path was already formed, and she was on a one-way road that led directly to the one man she swore she’d never find herself back to.

Priest Hayes.

He took the kingdom…but handed her the sword. This is a tale of heartbreak. A story of two people who defy all odds to find love in a place that most people run from.

The dark.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

priest

Iremember hearing my parents' hushed whispers in the kitchen one night. I would have been five or six. They were worried that they’d never seen me smile. They thought I had no emotion. Numb. Dead inside.

But they don’t know how much I hate Luna Nox.

Goose bumps pebble over her flawless skin when my knuckles graze the base of her neck. She is younger than me. She looks it. Dressed in an ivory sundress that would give the Devil blue balls, she embodies everything I hate.

Innocence for one.

Hers, there for my taking. And take it I did.

She stiffens as if recalling my touch. The way it felt when it was good, and how addictive it was when it wasn’t.

“Why would you do this to me?”

I don’t answer, retracting away from her. Conversations I’d overheard as a child echoing through my brain.

Especially one where Mom mentioned my uncle Daemon, her twin. He’d been the first Lost Boy. She only found out about him later in life, after meeting Dad. I knew little about him because anytime she talked about him, I wouldn’t listen. It wasn’t Uncle Daemon that caught my attention. Halen had said it multiple times in the past, so it didn’t faze me. “You’re an actual sociopath, Priest….” Maybe.

So the fuck what.

It wasn’t that.

It was when my father whispered… “He’s a Hayes.”

At that time, I didn’t know what the fuck that was supposed to mean. I learned later what it meant and who he was talking about.

Humphrey Hayes. The first Hayes and creator. Would he be happy with how it was now, considering how much the organization had changed? He’d built an army, choosing ten founding members and a vision that could only be seen by those chosen. It started small, a defiant act against the system. To create a legion who wouldn’t bow to a government, or any criminal organization. A fearless army of weapons, clothed in the flesh of men who’d ensure to take every robust sector of the world.

Things hadn’t changed over the years, including how my father led. He was the most decisive leader we’d ever had. But that was an issue because he also married my mother. He moved and changed rules for her, accommodating her and others.

Was I angry that they stopped killing the Swans and that women were allowed deeper into the society now?

Nah.

I had every intention of changing it once I took the gavel. Because girls like Luna Nox don’t belong here. They never will, and when I take the gavel, they’ll soon find out.

“Priest…” Luna whispers once more, and I immediately look at her. So small and lithe, desperate and needy.

Leaves rustle against the wave of nature’s lungs among the distant sound of music. It does nothing to distract my thoughts. There is one thing I can’t scratch, no matter how hard I have tried throughout the years with her. Never now, never then.

Blood dribbles between her fingers where she’s clutching her side. “Answer me. Why?”

Using her arm, I force her to her feet. It takes her less than two seconds before she loses her footing and stumbles against a tree. Ignoring her complaints, I continue dragging her through the forest, over fallen logs and dying leaves. Four more steps, and we stand outside my dad’s car, the full moon glaring down at both of us as it breaks through the shadows.

She bounces off the passenger door when I shove her forward and slides to the ground. Her hair matches the color of the night. Sinful, dark, yet alluring.

Blood sprays my face when she coughs. “I’m going to die, Priest.”

Carefully studying her face, I kneel low. I fucking hate her eyes. They remind me of my soul. “Good, Madness.”

The nickname flows over her face, and her cheeks fall.

“Don’t call me that!” she sneers, and it’s the first time I’ve seen an inkling of something more on her. Something fierce.

“What, Madness?” I tease, the swell in my chest deepening my smirk. “But isn’t that what you are?” I drop my head to the side, memorizing every detail of her features.

Her baby-soft cheeks dimple when she smiles, and her lips are so fucking perfect they almost have me slipping.

“Pure madness?”

“No!” A deep blush powders her cheeks as she draws in her bottom lip.

I pull her up and unlock the car with the key in my pocket.

“I just⁠—”

The way she tries to calm herself is fascinating. With each inhale, her chest swells. With each exhale, it deflates. So human. I try to lose myself on the Cupid’s bow that dips in the middle of her lips, but it’s useless. I’m hyperaware of everything around me, like the fluttering of her heart against my chest. It was a sad melody. One you’d play at a funeral.

“Would you rather I call you Lunatic?”

“Fuck you!” She chokes on a whimper. “Is what they say about you true?”

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War and His Queen (Carpe Noctem #1) Read Online Amo Jones http://www.wownovels.com/war-and-his-queen-carpe-noctem-1-read-online-amo-jones Sun, 14 Jan 2024 20:20:33 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/war-and-his-queen-carpe-noctem-1-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Amo Jones Series: Carpe Noctem Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)

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The Elite Kings Club left a trail of fear behind every person who whispered their names throughout the centuries that they’d existed. They were the product of every nightmare you were told as a child, only now, they don’t go bump in the night. They race modified cars, throw parties to conceal their morbid games, and leave behind the kind of chaos that can never be tamed.
They were from an ancient bloodline of the three Founding Fathers, and it was almost time for them to plunge deeper into the depths of hell. Now that they were all on their motherland, and even closer to an island with history as dark as it was ruthless, no one had a say in the carnage of what was to come. And in this case, with War and Halen. Until now, they were nothing but exactly as they appeared on the outside.
He was a brother’s best friend, and a boy Halen had never not known.
She was the daughter of one of the most feared families known to man, and the only girl who ever kindled his rage. They’d push and pull until it tore them apart…if only to feel the shell of their bodies close.
Halen knew crossing that line with him was dangerous ground, yet she yielded her weapon and did it anyway. But history was being challenged, and The Kings were about to learn that not all enemies are discovered on a battlefield.

Some are the ghosts of what was left behind.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Halen

Our parents would tell stories about the days when they were in high school in the Hamptons instead of Riverside. I can’t think of anything worse than going to school in the fucking Hamptons. Nothing against the place, but having to exist with the mundane who know nothing of the world I was born into sounds like a fucking liability.

I draw in a deep breath. I’ve been waiting thirty fucking minutes. Only they would make me wait at all—and for what? It better be a good reason. I am tired as hell. Me and the girls sat up all night last night planning what we were going to do. How it was going to be done and what kind of carnage we could create with the time that we have left before the ritual.

Digging through my handbag, something pinches my thumb and I suck it between my lips as the clovers from my bracelet shine against the sun. “These assholes better hurry up.”

Elaborate patterns line the gold archway to the front door of Hayes Castle. I wish I was joking. Our home is an excessive portrayal of modern-day regency, presenting a deceptive image of perfection and gold.

Leaning against the entryway table next to the bifurcated staircase, I hear cars pulling up outside. Doors open and close, and then heavy footsteps pound against the marble porch. Finally, both doors part open, and there, standing in front of me, is my twin brother.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that, Halen. This is the first time we’re not all waiting on you.”

“First of all…” I take a step toward him, before he widens the door further, revealing War and Vaden out on the driveway. “Wait, why are you all here and not already there?”

War lifts his arm to rest on the door of my car, flashing me a wide smirk. Aside from being painfully annoying all my life, he has made it his mission for as long as I can remember to make everything difficult for me. He also has a perverse way of getting off on my demise.

“Get in the car, Halen.”

With a raised brow, my mouth snaps closed. “Uhm, I wasn’t talking to you.”

His tongue glides over his lower lip. “Oh, you weren’t? Hmmm… let me see where I can find the fucks I can give you. Maybe they’re beneath my nine-inch cock. Get in the car.”

“Shut the fuck up. Both of you.” Priest—aka said twin brother—turns his back to me and I watch as he makes his way back down to his ride. He opens the front door, and I trace the lines of his flared guards. Priest’s S15 is the best you’d ever see. Dumped almost on its ass and rolling with deep black rims. We all have different cars, but they all stick with the same theme. Even our Euros do.

Black. Even the number plates that we don’t have to display.

“Pap is away, you know!” I call out, flipping Priest off behind his back and shoulder barging past War on my way down.

“Wanna try that again?” War calls out from behind his GTR. The fact that he stole the R32 body that I wanted to build when we were fourteen, and worked it to push over eight hundred horse, meant that not only did I need to import the R34 from Japan, but I threw in a Hakosuka for shits and gigs. Vaden then made a mad dash for the S14, before War was an absolute asshole and took a damn RX4. War’s 32 is pretty, though. Gloss black with a wide body kit and bronze deep-dish rims. And that’s not even mentioning what’s under the hood. We’re just one massive family with a Godzilla complex. Which only meant River grabbed the Honda NSX and Stella the RX7 Batty. Priest has a collection too long to detail.

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Fate of a Faux (Lords of Rathe #2) Read Online Meagan Brandy, Amo Jones http://www.wownovels.com/fate-of-a-faux-lords-of-rathe-2-read-online-meagan-brandy-amo-jones Mon, 09 Oct 2023 12:40:06 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/fate-of-a-faux-lords-of-rathe-2-read-online-meagan-brandy-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Forbidden, Paranormal Authors: Amo Jones, Meagan Brandy Series: Amo Jones
Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)

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The King of Darkness is dead.
It’s time for a new one to rise…

London Crow isn’t who I thought she was.
She’s worse.

My hate for her knows no bounds.
My need for her has no end.

But it’s my inability to have her that might just end us all, as the fates refuse to be ignored.

Now, there’s a darkness sweeping the streets of Rathe, threatening to destroy the Kingdom we know and love, and it’s all because of her.

The mate I can’t have.
The bond I can’t let go.

There is only one way to restore balance, and it begins and ends with her.

The problem? I broke the girl into a thousand tiny pieces without a second thought. Earning her forgiveness won’t be easy, but that’s fine.

If she won’t give it freely, I will take it.
One mistake at a time.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

One

London

Ben crouches down and I run full speed, hopping onto his back the way I have a hundred times before. My arms tether around his neck, as his wrap behind my knees, and I press a fat, sloppy kiss to his cheek. Smiling against it, I hold him tighter, fighting the tears threatening to slip free. The last thing I want after a day like we’ve had is for him to see me cry. Again.

The fact of the matter is … our worlds are changing. No, that’s not right. Our worlds have changed, and there’s no way around what happens next.

I’m going to lose my best friend.

I have to lose my best friend; he just doesn't know it yet. That’s what’s best for him. I’m a disaster that’s only going to get worse, by the looks of things, and he’s been through enough because of me.

I mean shit, he was—

“Lon, stop.”

Warmth fills me at his soft words. Like the syllables wrap around my heart and remind me why he’s home.

Ben has always been good at reading me, sometimes too good.

Pressing my temple to his head, I look forward into the dark night and a chill runs over me. Tucking my head into his neck, I close my eyes, fighting the moisture threatening to build there.

“I love you, you know that,” I whisper. “I love you and I’m so proud of you.”

“It was just one goal in a game that meant nothing.” He chuckles, but it’s more than that and he knows it.

He’s overcome and accomplished so much, and he still has a lifetime of happiness headed his way. God knows if anyone deserves it, it’s him.

We reach the door, and he eases me down, spinning to pull me into his arms. “Everything is going to be okay, London, I promise.”

He can’t possibly keep such a promise, but I don’t say that. I don’t say anything, just nod into his chest.

“Nine tomorrow?” he asks.

I nod, looking up into his hazel eyes. “Nine tomorrow.”

“Lon.” Ben gives me a warning look and it takes effort to roll my eyes when the last thing I’m feeling right now is playful.

The last few days have weighed so heavily on my mind, and I hate what’s to come. “I’m fine.”

Slowly, he presses his lips to my forehead and pushes me through the door.

My uncle Marcus greets me in the entryway, grinning wide until he sees my face, and his arms open instantly. I don’t hesitate but throw myself into them and cry.

“Awe, come on now, Little Crow. It can't be that bad,” he soothes, the same way he has done all my life.

“I’m going to ruin his life.”

My uncle laughs and pulls back, hooking my chin between his fingers. “Honey, no, you’re not. You’re the light of the boy's life. You're all he has now.”

“I know, and because of that, he’s going to stay here and go to a junior college. He’s so much better than that.”

“He’s doing what feels right.” My uncle smiles softly. “He doesn’t want to leave you, especially now that his grandma Betsy is gone.”

“This is a full fucking ride! A college team... a college team he didn’t even try out for, that he never even heard of, and they want him!” I stress. “Uncle Marcus, I don’t think you get it. He told me admission and acceptance timelines closed months ago. He’s already enrolled at the JC and he just happens to get this offer now? This is huge. It’s … kismet or whatever.”

Something swims in my uncle’s gaze, but it’s gone before I can decide what it was. “I don’t know about that,” he says, almost cautiously. “I think you should encourage him to stay here.”

“Uncle!” I snap, my head tugging back.

“Not forever, but maybe JC for a year and then he can apply somewhere else. Somewhere … not so far away.”

I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished. “No way, this is epic for him.”

“It is, but—”

“No buts.” I stomp my foot like a brat. “Make him go!”

My uncle lifts a brow and I feel the frown taking over my face before I know it’s coming.

“I’m different,” I argue what I know he’s thinking. “I suck at school and hardly passed. Honestly, I don’t even know how I did, but Ben? He worked his ass off. He can be persuaded, I know it.”

“You didn’t even want to go to the school tour they invited you to, and that was basically your free pass to party at a college for a weekend, so how the hell am I to convince Ben to move hours away from home when all you guys ever talk about is staying close together?”

My brows pull at his words, and he looks at me funny.

“Wait...” I tip my head. “Daragan State is the same school that sent me that invitation for the senior campus cruise?”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >104

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Fate of a Royal (Lords of Rathe #1) Read Online Meagan Brandy, Amo Jones http://www.wownovels.com/fate-of-a-royal-lords-of-rathe-1-read-online-meagan-brandy-amo-jones Thu, 20 Jul 2023 19:19:45 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/fate-of-a-royal-lords-of-rathe-1-read-online-meagan-brandy-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Authors: Amo Jones, Meagan Brandy Series: Amo Jones
Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >99

“You will go to Rathe University, live among the giftless and those of light magic. You, Knight Deveraux, will learn to coexist.”

I’ve never heard more wasted words in my life. Then again, the gifted counsel never did have much to say that wasn’t. The only members amongst them who speak a thing worth listening to are my parents, the King and Queen of the Stygian’s, the people of Dark Magic.

Unfortunately for me and my brothers, they’ve chosen to play nice instead of sinking their talons into anyone who dares demand a thing from their heirs. In this instance at least.

Every gifted is forced to leave our realm behind after graduation to spend the next four years in a world that isn’t ours, while pretending it’s enough for those with something deeper clawing beneath their skin.

It isn’t. Not by a long shot, and while it’s as boring as I thought it would be, we find ways to entertain ourselves.

A little Fae Dust, the power of persuasion, and it’s a party worthy of a royal … or four.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

One

London

Can this shit go any fucking slower?

My eyes dart to the game clock for what feels like the hundredth time, Trevor’s never-ending mouth still running as it’s been since the drop of the puck that started today’s exhibition game.

Why I agreed to sit with my arrogant ex tonight, I have no idea. We’ll just add it to the list of shit decisions I’m known to make.

If Ben didn’t spend his entire paycheck on a season ticket so his “best friend can park her ass front and center and watch him whoop ass,” I would have left in the first period because goddamn. Trevor spent the whole intermission whining. How many times can a girl listen to her bitch-boy-ex moan all the reasons I should “reconsider breaking up with him because girls want to date him, and he won’t wait around forever.”

Like, hel-fuucking-lo? Was my bitch, you can have his deficient dick ass and the rock through his passenger window—purely for good measure—too subtle?

Apparently, the answer to that is a big fat yes.

The man, if you can call him one, has been begging me to come to my senses for two weeks now.

I didn’t exactly want him before a girl in my dorm said she saw him in the parking lot with some other chick, so I sure as shit don’t want him now. I was just waiting for someone to come take him off my hands and I knew his wandering eye would bring that to fruition.

Huh, maybe that’s why the dorm girl, whose name I can’t remember, looked at me like I was crazy when she rushed over to rat him out.

Pretty sure my response was a smile.

I might have even skipped out of the common room.

It’s like I said, I didn’t much care for him. He was fun to pass the time with at first, and that’s about it. Maybe it’s shitty I didn’t break it off with him sooner, but I knew he was going to cheat, just like I knew he was going to come crawling back afterward.

My life may be chaotic, but my senses are on point and have never led me astray.

The question was never will he. It was when will he.

So, yeah, I like making other people the bad guy. Fucking sue me.

Better yet, shoot me. Right now. This guy is still talking.

“I’m serious, London. You have no idea how many girls have hit on me on campus. I’m trying to give you a chance here.”

I look at the clock. Three minutes until Ben’s dream of an undefeated season is smashed to shit. They’re about to be served a hard loss from Rathe U, the other college we share this town with, officially making it painfully obvious that when they face them in the regular season…they have zero chance of winning.

But why does this feel like the longest game in the history of hockey?

The moment I ask myself that question, the universe has a laugh at my expense when the reason himself bitches a little more.

“Are you going to talk to me at all?” Trevor snaps angrily, crossing his arms like the man-child he is. Ick.

“What do you want me to say?” That you smell like you bathed in your grandpa’s cologne, and you’re as basic and boring as pretty boys come? “That it’s all good you fucked some chick in the back seat of your car in the parking lot outside my dorm?”

He sits forward swiftly, and in my peripheral, I catch his creamy-colored skin growing crimson when a few students around us don’t even attempt to hide their reactions. They’ve been sighing and shaking their heads the entire time, forced to listen to him cry right along with me. They’re laughing at his ass now.

I think I might owe the strangers a beer after this.

Three seconds left.

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?” he hisses in my ear.

I don’t care enough to roll my eyes.

Finally, the clock hits zero, and the opposite side of the arena shouts and cheers as ours rush to clear their seats, hoping to avoid getting stuck in shoulder-to-shoulder crowds on the walk back to campus.

Trevor hops up, offering me his hand, and I scoff, lifting my legs and stretching them over the now-empty seat in front of me.

His lip curls. “You can’t possibly plan to sit here and wait until Ben’s ready to leave? He’s not even off the ice yet!”

I ignore him, lifting my lemonade to my lips as I wrap my jacket tighter around me. How Ben gets so sweaty in a room filled with ice is beyond me.

The cheap vodka I poured in makes a poor excuse for a lemon drop, but it’s also the only thing that stopped me from tearing off Trevor’s head during the game. He waits until the aisles around us are empty, then huffs, throwing himself into the seat as if he can’t believe he has to stay here longer. It’s as if he’s convinced himself I invited him tonight or that I actually want him to stick around. Neither is true.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >99

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Boneyard Tides (Aphotic Waters Duet #1) Read Online Amo Jones http://www.wownovels.com/boneyard-tides-aphotic-waters-duet-1-read-online-amo-jones Mon, 24 Apr 2023 15:55:57 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/boneyard-tides-aphotic-waters-duet-1-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Suspense Authors: Amo Jones Series: Aphotic Waters Duet Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >89

Picture this…you’re sitting by the ocean, sipping your favorite cocktail. The sun is setting over your skin, and the sound of waves crashing against the sand offers the perfect background music for the mellow reggae tunes that play through the salty air. Life is good. You have a best friend who seems to be a better friend to you than he is a boyfriend to his girl, your mom is calling your phone to ask what time you’ll be home for dinner, and your current “plaything” is too busy flirting with another girl in a desperate attempt to see if you care. Pathetic. But you don’t care because the sand is between your toes, your surfboard is freshly waxed, and you are one hundred percent sure that your life is perfect. It was all perfect, right?

Except Hades Hollow would never be perfect.This was a town built on old stories that were planted, grew, and eventually rotted here. It was a vicious cycle of rebirth. The stories would never die…not at least until the real one had been told.

It all started with a game. The kind of trickery that poisons your heart because it knows the mind is weak.

One was my nemesis, a genre-meddling musician. The foe .
One was as scary as he was charming. The weapon .
And one was a billionaire. The ruse .
I mean, I knew that, right. I knew who they were… I was about to find out the hard way that I didn’t know anything at all.
I’m Shiloh St. Claire. A daughter, a friend…and The liar

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

To the people who fuck red flags.

Saddle up.

Shiloh

There’s a kind of nagging echo that bounces off the dark town streets of Hades Hollow. The whispers between the Tiki huts, sandbars, and small coffee shops. No one liked to speak about it out loud. I think, for the most part, everyone here likes to ignore all the red flags within the stories. I wasn’t sure what to believe most of the time. The stories had changed so much I don’t think anyone really knows the truth.

The tales grew around every good thing in this town like poison ivy. Death was a lonely place, but it was silent there. Peaceful. Haunting.

“Shi! Hurry up, baby! Jump!” Ruin calls out loudly from below.

Fucking Ruin and his dumb ideas. I took a careful step closer to the edge until the loose rocks moved beneath my toes. The dark water curdles around the rocks down below, and I hold my breath as I internally count down my options.

I couldn’t not jump. I had done it before, but it was so high every jump felt like a first. I step off the ledge and fall, hitting the placid water with a loud splat. One I knew would leave a mark long after. I try to inhale air, but fill my lungs with water instead, and I curl my hands above my head to swim to the surface. See, Hades Hollow has a secret, and like the bones of our ancestors that live beneath the waters here, it should stay dead.

Hands grab me around my waist, forcing me to the surface as I swipe water from my face.

“Hey…you good?” Ruin asks, tucking his blond hair behind his ear while sitting upright on his board.

“Always.” I’m certain I probably almost died. But it’s The Landing, and The Landing isn’t to be taken lightly. Everyone here knows who I am. They know I bleed saltwater, so I guess none of them expected me to almost fucking die after jumping.

His face splits into a wide smile as he reaches behind himself and pushes my board over to me. I wrap the strap around my ankle, pushing myself up on top while keeping my eyes on Ruin.

“How many times is that now?” he asks, his blue eyes twinkling.

Ruin is cute, but he’s bland. It works for us both since neither of us is ever looking for anything remotely serious.

“Twice.” I lean down on my board, paddling closer to Dani.

Dani is my best friend’s “girlfriend,” and since Cooper—the best friend—isn’t here right now, I know I have to take her under my wing. She’s new to Hades Hollow, and even though she surfs, we figured out pretty early on that she isn’t as experienced on the water as the rest of us. I have to watch out for her.

“I’m heading back in.”

Dani wobbles on her board as she lies back down. “I’ll follow you. Is this what you guys do every Friday night?”

The Landing is a large cave that holds a water pocket beneath it. It’s open above, with a direct view of the sky and a small shoreline that leads you to the large rock that stretches out over the water. It’s high, and when you’re that far up from the water, you notice things. Like how close you are to the sky and how far away you are from the water. I hate coming here for other reasons that don’t involve the jump, but come to make sure no one gets hurt when Ruin is doing dumb jock things.

No one gets hurt…again.

“Don’t worry, baby!” Ruin calls out just as Dani paddles up beside me. “I’ll be back to tuck you in later.”

“Asshole,” I grumble, picking up my pace as we exit through the little entrance tunnel.

Depending on the tide, you could be staying in The Landing until it recedes again. Unless you’re me. I’ve swum out that entrance more times than I’ve paddled out.

“I still don’t understand you guys’ weird little rituals in this town.”

I can see a flicker of light on the beachfront, and I direct my board that way. It’s late, and aside from the panic of sharks lingering, I mainly take my time when I swim back to shore. The Landing isn’t too far, but if it’s a receding tide, you’re working against the motion, so it’ll take you longer. Lucky for us, it’s an incoming tide, so we’re practically riding in.

“That’s because you’re new here.”

I’ve had this conversation with Dani multiple times since meeting her nine months ago. Her father moved her here from Santa Cruz, so technically just up the road. I never asked her why they came, but figured it had to do with the fact that Hades Hollow is ninety-nine percent better than SC. That one percent is the guys there are hotter. At least to me.

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Wicked Read Online Amo Jones http://www.wownovels.com/wicked-read-online-amo-jones Thu, 10 Nov 2022 23:02:28 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/wicked-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Angst, Biker, Dark, Mafia, MC, Romance, Suspense Authors: Amo Jones Advertisement

Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >110

I remember the day he walked through our front door, bloodied and broken with the kind of torment that breeds, but never dies. Papa had one rule for him. Stay away from his daughter.

He didn’t.

Years later, he crashes back into my life and tears down all of the walls I built up around myself. We’re both hiding secrets, but when the mafia world collides with the MC world, the shrapnel could destroy everyone around us.

Now the president of the Chicago chapter, not even I was prepared for his return. He's going to see that I’m no longer the precious princess of the Cosa Nostra, and I won’t play his games anymore.

He’ll play mine.

This is a story about two souls destined to be together, but who are trapped in bodies that hate each other. It’s what happens when you both let love kill you.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

To the kids who were told that they would never amount to anything because they liked breaking the rules.

Fuck the haters.

I typed this with my middle finger.

She stared at me from across the room. It was the exact reason why I loved her. She was reckless with her need for me. She didn’t give a fuck who was watching. I felt it, she sure as fuck felt it, and I’m one thousand percent everyone in this goddamn room felt it.

My glass was half full. Whiskey. The kind that resembles love. Burns you right down to the core of your guts all while discreetly destroying other bodily organs in the process. Love was a distraction to destruction. Nothing more, and nothing less. My knee wouldn’t stop jiggling and my palms started to sweat. I simply wanted to fucking kill someone. The room was too loud. The music too fucking messy. Even the band playing looked like they were three seconds away from OD’ing on coke. This wasn’t what I expected at all from Ruby La Rosa. Do I even still know her? I don’t have to know her to still love her. I was fucked the second she sank her poisonous fangs right into my jugular.

“Look, if it’s any consolation, she looks happy, right?” Poppy leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder. Lights pulsed rapidly to the music, and I watched as her hand slowly lowered down his arm, resting in the palm of his hand.

My thumb twitched. I rolled my heavy steel ring around and around like a dial that controlled my temper and it was about to conflagrate.

“Happy?” I turned to face Poppy, ignoring everyone else around the table, including the owner of the hand that’s resting on my upper thigh beside me. “You and I both know that is not her happy. That is her…” I paused, reclining against my chair and resting my arm on the one beside me. “That is revenge.”

Jade interrupted across the table. The centerpiece was excessive, so I could only see the outline of her face. “That is no choice.”

Whacking away the grabby hands from below, I stood up from my chair, finishing my whiskey.

“Where are you going?” Khaos whined from beside Royce. I ignored all of them. Moving to the other side of the room, I strolled past Victor. The closer she got, the more I needed to fucking obliterate something. Preferably her.

One step.

Two.

Three.

I brushed past her just as her back was about to rub against my chest, our eyes colliding. Seconds passed before I finally dragged them away from her and headed through the back of the room, where an exit sign flashed above the door. Instantly, the cold air wrapped its frosty fingers around my throat as I shoved the door open. The fucking suffocation of everyone in that room.

Of her in any room.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” Her voice was like a flame that continued to burn too close no matter how much I tried to blow it out.

I reached around her little body and forced the emergency door closed behind her.

“Wicked!” She spun around, pushing on the door again before turning back to me. “You did that on purpose.” A glare flashed across her fiery honey-colored eyes. “Why? Why do you fucking do this and make it harder on both of us?”

My hand slid down the wooden door, bringing our bodies closer. She sucked in a breath, her eyes falling to my lips. “You’re making this worse than it needs to be.”

Shaking my head, I brought the base of my finger to the side of her head, running it down her cheek and over her swollen lips. “Nah, but I’m about to.”

She parted her lips, and I slid my thumb between them, watching as they wrapped around the base. I retracted, lowering my lips down onto hers while grabbing her from her thighs and shoving her wedding dress up over her hips. Gripping on to the lace garter around her thigh, I tore it off and forced her against the door with my hips.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >110

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In Chaos We Reign (Midnight Mayhem #4) Read Online Amo Jones http://www.wownovels.com/in-chaos-we-reign-midnight-mayhem-4-read-online-amo-jones Fri, 26 Aug 2022 19:46:26 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/in-chaos-we-reign-midnight-mayhem-4-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Forbidden, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Authors: Amo Jones Series: Midnight Mayhem Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >124

Read Online Books/Novels:	In Chaos We Reign (Midnight Mayhem #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Amo Jones
Language:	English
Book Information:
I was the trick that they could never play. She was the greatest game of all… There is elegance that comes from being carved from the ashes of all the darkness that surrounds you in the world. You start as dust, and you end as dust. At least that’s what I always thought. Crowned Princess Mayhem all my life became old fast, and I found myself forging my iron crown with the blood of our enemies. To The Brothers of Kiznitch, I was nothing but a little brat that always got my way. I was the sister none of them asked for, but they’d find themselves needing. He was no different. Loving Keaton Cicero was never going to be easy. There was evil within him that would never be accepted. They thought their over-protectiveness had kept me safe all these years, but they were wrong. Everything they thought they knew… was about to burn around them. I wasn’t someone who needed protecting… They were.
Books in Series:	Midnight Mayhem Series by Amo Jones
Books by Author:	Amo Jones

Sixteen years old

I remember the first time I realized my brother was crazy. I was twelve years old, and I watched him rip the meat off a man’s bones after he kidnapped me and locked me in an abandoned house to play dress-up. The man was a stranger, and even though our family business was risky, it had no connection with Midnight Mayhem or Kiznitch. Yet my glorious brother tore him to pieces with his bare hands and didn’t blink once. Tonight is just like then, only worse. Worse because this is someone I know, and it’s someone who tried to hurt me.

Doors slam closed outside, and I stop pouring the cashmere pink bubbles into my bath. Reaching for my phone on the counter, I open Spotify and hit play on “OT” by Niykee Heaton before dipping my toe into the warm water. Bubbles spill onto the dark veined marble floors as I sink deeper beneath the water, closing my eyes in an attempt at scrubbing the night away. I don’t want Kyrin to hear me cry because I know it will only make him worse. I’ve handled this school since my parents dumped me in it when Kyrin threw a fit to keep me away from Mayhem, and I will continue to handle it when he goes back on the road. Right now, I need peace. I need to feel nothing. See nothing. Hear nothing. They say drowning is the most peaceful death, I can imagine why. After being suffocated from oxygen for minutes, you welcome the feeling of numbness. Like now. Void. Stuck between a realm of life and death, I could float and hold my breath until I simply… die.

A hand is around my throat, pulling me out of my haze and I swipe water from my face angrily when I resurface. “What the fuck!” As soon as my eyes open, they land on Keaton, one of the four Brothers of Kiznitch. He and my brother have been inseparable since they were born—they all are—but Keaton isn’t like the rest of them. He is simply… different.

My mouth closes as I take in his clothes. Blotches of blood litter his designer jeans, and when I finally look up at his face, I find mud and more blood all over his cheek and shirt. The Brothers of Kiznitch have all been my extended brothers, all of them except Keaton. He is nothing like a brother to me, and that’s largely because he has never treated me the same way the other Brothers have. He doesn’t seem pissed about my presence, but not that fond of it either. He has always just existed. For a long time anyway. But I don’t know if I’d call what we share a normal friendship. My stomach always twists anytime I catch him staring, and it’s become more frequent the older I get, but that doesn’t change the fact that we both fight. Fight probably more than any of the other brothers, Kyrin not included.

“What the fuck, Keaton?” I glare up at him while leaning back against the curve of the bath, flicking my toe against the faucet to turn the hot water back on.

I see him dip to a kneeling position out of the corner of my eye, when his fingers curl around my chin, forcing my face to his. I hold my breath when his eyes settle on mine. Keaton is the scariest of all The Brothers—to everyone but me. Darkness hovers over him everywhere he goes, and no matter what he does, he’ll never be rid of it. Torment swims beneath the surface of his god-like features, and it has always bothered me that I can never take it away. No one can.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >124

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Antichrist Read Online Amo Jones http://www.wownovels.com/antichrist-read-online-amo-jones Mon, 11 Apr 2022 16:27:47 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/antichrist-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Biker, Dark, Mafia, MC, Romance Authors: Amo Jones Advertisement

Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >105

Read Online Books/Novels:	Antichrist
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Amo Jones
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B09C88XGYL
Book Information:
Meraki Mallory lived two lives. The one that everyone thought she did, and the one she worked hard to hide. She burned with her demons instead of running from them, but when Niko Davis rode back into town with a bag full of secrets, she knew she would need to start hiding them instead. Niko knew her inside and out, and if he saw even a smidge of her soul, he would see that she was no longer the girl he left behind… When the president of the New York chapter of the Seven Knights MC dies, he passes the gavel down to Niko… but unknown to anyone else, that’s not the only thing he left him. Niko fights for what’s his, and he’s only ever claimed one person in his life—Meraki. So when he rips away the walls she built around herself with his bare teeth, the secrets that she has so fiercely hidden away all of these years suddenly bleed onto the four unmarked graves laid out in front of his steel-cap boots… It started with a bond that destroyed everyone around them… …it ends with blood. this is a DARK ROMANCE. Please check triggers if think you may need to. *Antichrist is not a retelling of Hunchback of Notre Dame, there are slight nods here and there toward the original tale.
Books by Author:	Amo Jones

Triggers include:

Rape.

Dubious consent.

Graphic murder.

Knife play.

Necrophilia.

Blood play.

Breath play.

Sadism.

Severe emotional abuse.

Child abuse.

Cheating—a whole fucking lot of it.

Two years after present

I married the preacher to run from the Antichrist.

I didn’t get far. I didn’t expect to. Niko Davis was a monster with the things he wanted in life, and unfortunately due to my current circumstances, I fell under that. Not for love, no. For something much more sinister than that.

I thought I knew who he was—I think everyone thought they did—but what I got was a savage with a liking to the taste of my blood. The devil you know over the devil you don’t, right?

Wrong. Because the devil you know knows exactly how to present himself into something he’s not.

The Preacher is a force, but all forces can be controlled, and that’s exactly what I plan to do with this one.

“Meraki, venez ici!” I swirl my wine around the glass goblet and watch as the red liquid stains the clean areas. I sit at the head of the table with my eyes on the abundance of food that is laid out in front of me.

His footsteps become clearer as he rounds the high concrete archway into the dining room. His blond hair flops to the side when his eyes meet mine. Eager and hungry, but so damn alluring. “Tu vas bien, bébé ?”

A smile spreads over my face when I see him. Calm. Safe. “Oui, toujours.”

His widens, and the sun beaming through the stained glass in the cathedral room hits the colors of his hair. He takes a step closer. As soon as he’s right in front of me, his finger pressed to my lip, he whispers, “I’ll love you forever. Is that enough?”

I want to say yes, but truthfully it’s not. And it’s not that he’s a bad person, because he most definitely is not. He’s pure, good. Him coming into my life was a savior I never knew I needed, but would he be enough? Without being me, would he still be enough?

I graze my lips over his. “I—” Something sharp sticks to my chest, over my breast, and I lean backward, searching Preacher’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Color drains from his face, and I watch in slow motion as blood spills from his lips and his body turns limp in front of me.

I step back, noticing the blood spreading over his white linen shirt, my hand coming to my chest. “Preacher?”

He coughs and falls to his knees in front of me, squeezing my legs. That’s when I see him standing there, knife in hand and hoodie covering the outline of his face.

“So cute, baby.” His blood-sodden hand flies to my throat, pulling me into his chest while stepping over Preacher. “You thought you could live like a saint”—Niko leans in closer, the corner of his lip curling up into a sinister smirk while still flashing that stupid dimple. His lips move over mine—“but forgot that you’re claimed by an Antichrist.”

Past

Sharp, arched ceilings reached up to stormy clouds like bladed talons hungry for the sinister taste of innocent angels hiding in the sky. Stained glass of Jesus, Mary, and whoever the fuck other disciples He had with Him stared back down at me. Judging. Huh. Yeah, I totally felt judged on the doorstep of God. There was an old bell that barely hung off the building by rusted nails and a stone male structure that now sank into the ground as if Hell was desperate to have it back. Two prominent arches housed the entry doors and right in the middle of the body of the building. The Cathedral. Everyone hated this place. Everyone but me. It was Halsin’s oldest standing building. It was timeless and archaic, but that’s what made it so fascinating to me. Halsin wasn’t only built around the canary and river that flowed through the main street of Old Town, but around the Cathedral too. Even though it’s buried in the middle of nowhere. Literally, you had to go off road just to reach it, and almost no one ever did. For as long as I had known, Luca’s parents had lived there, along with other people—we didn’t really hear much of them, though. Sunday service was run a little different in Halsin, and by different, I mean it’s just fucking weird. I loved the structure of the building, but I didn’t know why. It’s like the soil clung to my footsteps any time I found myself here, and that wasn’t often, since Luca’s father was a creep.

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