Saffron A. Kent – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Saffron A. Kent – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Wed, 19 Nov 2025 18:27:25 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Saffron A. Kent – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 Branded Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.wownovels.com/branded-read-online-saffron-a-kent Wed, 19 Nov 2025 18:27:25 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/branded-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Dark, Virgin Authors: Saffron A. Kent Advertisement

Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >166

Pen Pal meets Yellowstone in this dark, western romance featuring a college student using a false identity to exchange spicy letters with a prison inmate, only to be hunted down when the convicted cowboy is released.

It all began with letters. Every word he wrote etched itself into my mind, into my soul. I had no choice but to fall in love with him. 
Was it really so bad that the letters were part of a pen pal program, sent from a penitentiary?
Or that they weren't really addressed to me?

It's not as if he'd ever find out the truth.
It's not as if I'd ever get to look those eyes that are as blue as the sky over his ranch he left behind.
Or that I'd ever get to feel his work-roughened hands dominating my body as he does my fevered dreams.

Until one afternoon when I find myself standing in front of him—pretending to be someone I am not.
But the joke's on me because for all my pretenses, his deception is much crueler.
The hardened, dangerous, impossibly beautiful man is nothing like the man in the letters. 
And it's too late for me to run

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

IN HIS LETTER, he told me to wear something white.

It sounded like an innocent enough request, something to help him recognize me when he saw me for the first time. But now that I’m here, standing at the door of the café, it feels like…

I’m a lamb being led to slaughter.

I know. I know I’m painting a pretty dramatic picture. And I’m not someone who gives in to drama at all. In fact, I try to stay away from it as much as I can. But this has to be the most dramatic thing I’ve ever done.

By this, I mean going to meet a man that I’ve only ever talked to in letters.

Actually, no. That’s not what I’m doing. I’m not going to meet some man that I’ve been talking to in letters for the past six months.

I’m going to meet a man who up until last Friday called Montana State Prison his home.

So, basically, I’ve come to this café, wearing a white dress with a delicate lace overlay and a swishy skirt, to meet a convicted felon that I’ve only ever talked to using the prison pen pal system.

Well, ex-felon, since he got out on parole last week.

In any case, I’m stupid, aren’t I? This is stupid. More than that, this is dangerous.

So what if it’s broad daylight and the café, from what I can see through the glass door, looks fairly busy? He was the one who picked this place and told me to meet him here. Maybe there’s a reason for that. Maybe he’s got his friend watching, ready to pounce on me when I go to the bathroom. Maybe there’s a secret hallway in this establishment that he can drag me into as I’m coming out of the restroom.

Except… it doesn’t feel dangerous. Just terrifying.

So despite myself, I push open the door and step inside.

For the first few seconds, my vision seems blurry. All I can make out is fuzzy colors and shapes, but slowly things become clear. I see red leather seats and wooden walls. I see people, tons of them. Almost all of the tables are occupied, and there’s a long line of customers at the counter, ordering and waiting for their coffee.

Witnesses. It should be a relief.

But how on earth am I going to find him in a churning sea of broad shoulders and tall bodies, most of them wearing Stetsons? Maybe if I was taller than my five-foot-two frame or wearing heels rather than these stupid schoolgirl Mary Janes, I’d be…

Oh, but wait a second.

I don’t need to worry about finding him because I think that he found me.

See, there’s a man.

In the center of all the chaos.

Still and unmoving.

He has a trucker’s cap on, black with an intricate R in white. Even though he’s sitting down and there’s no way for me to know, I can tell he’s the tallest man in here. At least he’s certainly the broadest, given how his shoulders span and block the top of his high-backed chair and almost all of the potted fern behind him.

And I think, I think, it’s him.

Even though he looks… wrong. He looks nothing like what I imagined.

I never thought he’d be this large, busting out of his black T-shirt. Or that his skin would be so tan that you’d guess he’d been living under the open, free sky rather than inside a concrete block and barred windows. I definitely never thought his face would look that… merciless.

The upper part of his face is hidden, courtesy of the cap, but whatever I can see makes me think that like his body, his face is also a study of superlatives. Like that stubbled jaw of his quite possibly is the most angular jaw I’ve ever seen. And his lips, dusky rose, may be the fullest set of lips that I’ve ever come across.

It’s laughable to call him beautiful, given how aggressively masculine everything about him is, but that’s what he is. Beautiful. Ruggedly so. Like the mountain range that you can see wherever you go in Montana.

Before I can really question my thoughts, I’m walking toward him.

While my footsteps are drowned by the din of the crowd, I can hear my heartbeats clearly. There’s a stampede in my chest, wild heart, wilder beats, and strangely, I think he can sense it from afar.

I’m sure he’s watching me walk over.

Again, I don’t know how I know this because his eyes are hidden by the cap he’s wearing, but I do. I can feel their gaze, all heavy and charged, through the space. The intensity only growing the closer I get to him.

Until it feels like a calloused hand sliding over my skin. As soon as I reach him, he looks up and that hand tightens.

No, that phantom grip around my neck turns hot.

Branding me.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >166

Advertisement
A Wreck You Make Me (Bad Boys of Bardstown #3) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.wownovels.com/a-wreck-you-make-me-bad-boys-of-bardstown-3-read-online-saffron-a-kent Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:26:51 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/a-wreck-you-make-me-bad-boys-of-bardstown-3-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Forbidden, Sports, Taboo Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: Bad Boys of Bardstown Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >188

I have been in love with Shepard Thorne since I was twelve.

He’s my best friend’s hot older brother, and I am the weird redhead who low-key follows him everywhere. He’s soccer’s bad boy, and I am stuck in a dead end job, serving drinks at the local strip club.

Our paths aren’t meant to cross.

Until one day I catch him getting a lap dance at the club and jealousy makes me ruin his fun.

Now he’s made it his mission to make my life hell and no matter what I do, there is no escape.

Everywhere I turn, there he is, waiting for his payback.

He threatens to kiss me one second, and choke me the next.

He promises to bring me to my knees and make me beg.

What started as a little harmless prank turns into a twisted game of blackmail that’s toxic but oh-so-good.

But it has to end.

Because I have a secret...

That ties me to my tormentor in an irrevocable way, and if he ever finds out, it will wreck everything I now crave.

Even his revenge.

This is a STANDALONE set in the world of Bardstown

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

Prologue I

Nine Years Ago

He’s drunk again.

I can hear his footsteps. Loud and stumbling. I can also hear his voice, muttering to himself as he opens and closes the cupboard in the kitchen. I’d wonder why no one else in the house can hear him except me, but I already know why. My younger sister, Snow, is sleeping in the room beside mine, and she can sleep through thunderstorms. And my mother probably took her sleeping pills before going to bed and I know from experience she won’t wake up until morning. Sometimes she doesn’t wake up until the afternoon. We sometimes see her stumbling around the kitchen with her coffee when we come back from school, my sister and I.

Which means I’m on my own.

If something happens, that is.

If he decides tonight’s the night he wants to do something. Something more. Something like turning the doorknob and opening the door to get inside my room. Because usually on nights like these, when he comes home drunk from God knows where and makes his way up the creaking stairs, he stops at my door. He breathes, heavy and loud, sometimes frantic. I hear rustling of clothes. I hear movements, fast and quick. Of his chest maybe, his hands, I don’t know. All I know is that I count the seconds until he moves on and goes to his own bedroom, passing out beside my mother.

Before waking up the following morning all fresh and chirpy, making pancakes for all of us, acting like last night never happened. Like he never called home to say he was going to be late coming back from his job. And that he never came home drunk and stood at my door for minutes on end while my heart raced and I gripped a baseball bat that I stole from school in my hands, just waiting for him to do more than stand outside my door. Like he’s the best husband in the world, the best father.

He’s not.

He’s my stepfather, and he’s a very shitty one at that.

It’s not new knowledge; I’ve always known it. I knew it when my mother brought him home and told us she was going to marry this man. I was about six or so and Snow was only two. I didn’t know why I thought he wasn’t a good man; I just did. But when I told my mother, she didn’t listen to me. She said I was making things up, that I was ruining things for her. She said that my biological father was gone now and my stepdad was going to take care of us. At the time I hadn’t understood why my biological dad went away.

But then years later I found out my mother had an affair with my stepfather while still being married to my biological dad. My dad found out, and divorced my mother, leaving me and Snow alone. Even though I made him promise that he’d visit, he never did. And that’s because my mom’s betrayal had been bigger than an affair. She also got pregnant from it and tried to pass Snow off as my dad’s daughter. So when Dad left, he left for good.

And now here I am.

Outsider in my own family. Abandoned by my real dad, hated by my mother and still hating my asshole stepfather and waiting for the said asshole to move on from my door that he’s started pausing at ever since I had my twelfth birthday, and make his drunken way to his bedroom.

I’m not afraid for myself though. I’m not afraid of him coming into my room in the middle of the night to do bad things. Things that I’ve seen on TV and read about. Things that girls talk about at my school that they do with boys behind the bleachers. I’ve got a baseball bat, remember? I’m more worried about Snow. She’s only eight, and what if he starts pausing at her door? She doesn’t know how to protect herself. She doesn’t even know about our stepdad’s drinking problem. No one does, and even if I told my mom, she wouldn’t believe me. Which is why I’ve taken to sneaking into Snow’s room after she’s fallen asleep and sleeping on the floor to keep watch.

Not tonight though.

Tonight, I have a mission. I’m going to change things.

As soon as I hear my stepfather’s footsteps receding, I break into action. I jump out of bed and stow the baseball bat under it. I head to my window and climb, grabbing hold of the tree branch before making my way down to the ground. I do it with an ease that suggests I’ve been sneaking out of my second-story bedroom window for years.

I haven’t.

I’ve only been doing it for a few months, because we’re new in town. Apparently, my stepfather got a new job in town six months ago and my mother packed us up from Pennsylvania and moved us all to Bardstown.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >188

Advertisement
Oh You’re So Cold (Bad Boys of Bardstown #2) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.wownovels.com/oh-youre-so-cold-bad-boys-of-bardstown-2-read-online-saffron-a-kent Mon, 08 Jul 2024 20:38:48 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/oh-youre-so-cold-bad-boys-of-bardstown-2-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Forbidden, New Adult, Sports, Virgin Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: Bad Boys of Bardstown Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >184

I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.

All I wanted was a harmless kiss from the handsome stranger at my eighteenth birthday party. But when he said — with a cruel twist of his cigarette smoking lips — that he doesn’t kiss ‘annoying little girls,’ I stupidly decided to flirt with a random guy to make him jealous.

I never wanted that random guy to fall in love with me. Or worse, accidentally start a relationship with him. But now I have a new boyfriend while I can’t stop thinking about the guy who doesn’t care that I exist.

So it’s time to move on and focus on my new relationship.

Only the moment I make that decision, he decides to notice me.

He decides to stare at me a little too hard and in a way that makes me blush. Oh and one day when my boyfriend isn’t looking, he decides to corner me in a lonely hallway and put his rough and heated hands on me that feels equal parts forbidden and familiar.

But I’m not stupid.

I’m not going to ruin my new relationship for someone that people call Stellan ‘The Cold’ Thorne. Especially not when the random guy I’m dating isn’t random at all.

No, my new boyfriend happens to be the brother of the guy I’m inappropriately obsessed with.

And I’m not the kind of girl who comes between two brothers.

Twin brothers…

Or am I?

NOTE: This book is a complete STANDALONE set in the world of St. Mary's and Bardstown.

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

Prologue

The Beginning

Chapter 1

One Year Ago

I’m a slut.

Or so my mom calls me.

She also says that one day it’ll get me in trouble. The kind I won’t be able to get myself out of. I don’t think that’s true, though. In fact, I think being a slut is what usually gets me out of trouble.

It at least gets me out of locked rooms.

Like it did tonight.

As always, I made my mother angry. I chose to wear a dress I liked instead of the one she’d picked out for me. In my defense, it’s my birthday—my eighteenth birthday—and I wanted to wear something of my own choosing for a change.

Yes, it’s short and yes, it shows off my cleavage.

So what?

I like it and it’s my birthday tonight.

Don’t I deserve some leeway?

Apparently not.

Because as soon as I came down the stairs in my pretty white dress, my mom lost it. She dragged me upstairs, locked me in my room, and told me I wouldn’t be coming out until I put some decent clothes on. My dad—who loves my mother to death and will do anything for her—posted a bodyguard at my door for good measure too.

Well, they always have bodyguards posted around me.

Because apparently, I’m too out of control and need to be kept an eye on.

Anyway.

My parents thought he was tough, the bodyguard, but he folded and let me go the second I screamed out for fake help and batted my dark curled eyelashes.

And look, here I am.

Sneaking out of the back garden exactly like I’d planned.

I knew this area would be empty and therefore a safe passage for me because people would be busy with the party around the pool. And with any luck, I’ll be back before my parents figure out I’m not where I’m supposed to be.

Although I will say that I’m late.

But it’s okay.

The moon is bright. The early winter air is crisp and fresh. Not to mention, I’m finally seizing my destiny or rather making an attempt to seize it.

So I’m not going to despair.

But the moment I decide that, I stop mid-run.

I have to.

Because suddenly, the blissfully empty back garden is not empty anymore.

There’s someone here.

Someone I can’t see because even though the moon is shining at its brightest, whoever it is, is standing under the pink magnolia tree, shadowed by the branches and the flowers.

All I can tell is that it’s a he.

It’s a darkly dressed he.

With dark pants and a dark shirt.

It’s also a tall he.

In fact, he’s such a tall he that he won’t have to stand on his tiptoes to pluck the flowers from the branches. Actually, he won’t even have to raise his arm fully to get to them. Both of which I have to do and even then, it’s a hardship.

Who is he?

And what is he doing with my flowers?

“Who are you?” My loud voice cracks through the silence.

If he’s another one of my new bodyguards, I’m going to be very pissed. And he could be because my dad did say he’d hired a bunch of new ones from a very famous Bardstown-based security company, The Fortress, after he caught me almost making out with the last one. Spoiler alert: I wasn’t really going to make out with him. That was also a ploy to get myself out of another tricky situation.

Again, anyway.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >184

Advertisement
You Beautiful Thing – You (Bad Boys of Bardstown #1) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.wownovels.com/you-beautiful-thing-you-bad-boys-of-bardstown-1-read-online-saffron-a-kent Wed, 25 Oct 2023 18:31:45 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/you-beautiful-thing-you-bad-boys-of-bardstown-1-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Sports Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: Bad Boys of Bardstown Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 199
Estimated words: 200280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1001(@200wpm)___ 801(@250wpm)___ 668(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >199

Nineteen-year-old Tempest Jackson wants a baby.

No, her biological clock isn’t ticking, but she’s desperate for unconditional love. Rejected by all except her brother and soon to be married off by her father for financial gain, she aches for someone to hold close and call hers.

Enter Ledger Thorne. Soccer god, devastatingly handsome and her brother’s rival.

Once upon a time they had a thing. A beautiful thing. But while Tempest thought she was madly in love, Ledger was only using her for petty revenge.

So Tempest has a plan: seduce the sexy jerk who broke her heart, use him to get pregnant and then leave him in the dust like he left her, to marry a stranger.

Only the problem with making babies is that it doesn’t feel like revenge. It feels a lot like that thing they used to have: Hot and stormy, and intense and intimate.

But Tempest isn’t a fool. She’ll stick to the plan.

Because wasn’t it Ledger who turned their beautiful thing into something ugly?
Now it’s her turn…

NOTE: This is a STANDALONE set in the world of Bardstown, a St. Mary’s Rebels spin-off.

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

Part 1

Chapter One

Three years ago

If they ask me how I met the love of my life, I’ll tell them it was at a soccer game.

I’ll tell them it was fate.

Because I wasn’t supposed to be there, see.

I was supposed to be back in New York, at school, attending my last class for the day. But in a moment of wildness, I ditched it and snuck out of school to go see my brother play in Bardstown. I thought I’d surprise him. Mainly because it’s very rare for me to go see him play. Not only do I live at a boarding school in New York and can’t attend most games, but also because he’s always insisted that he didn’t want me around his asshole teammates; he’s super protective like that.

But on that day I thought, why not?

I’d just received an early sixteenth birthday present from my parents: a sleek black car. And while I shouldn’t technically be driving yet, that still wasn’t enough of a reason for me not to go.

So I went.

And there he was.

My brother’s teammate.

It happened in a flash.

Like in the romance novels that I eat up for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

I saw him flying across the field, his powerful legs taking him at a speed that seemed humanly impossible. His long-ish hair whipping in the wind, his uniform sticking to his tall and muscular body. And the way he kept scoring goal after goal, dribbling the ball, heading it, dodging the players of the opposing team, flipping himself in the air like gravity didn’t hold him down like it does to the rest of us.

And I just… fell.

For him.

I know people say love at first sight isn’t really a thing.

But meh, what do people know?

They don’t know how electric I felt in that moment. How thrilled and euphoric and just so fucking enamored by him. They don’t know that I wanted to jump and scream on the bleachers that day. Cheer and clap for him when the game was over and they won.

Oh, and they absolutely do not know, and hence can never understand, that amidst all the cheers and excitement at the victory, he looked at me.

He saw me across the space.

His eyes landed right on me and that was it.

That was the moment our love story began.

But all epic love stories have a problem, don’t they?

Something that keeps lovers apart.

Some hurdle that threatens to destroy their happiness and leave them brokenhearted forever.

Our does too.

And one of the problems in our love story — quite possibly the biggest, or let’s say the second biggest — is that it’s imaginary.

It’s fake. It’s made up.

It’s all in my head. And my heart.

In my sick, obsessed, love-drunk heart.

Although to be fair, it’s not all imaginary.

I mean, the soccer game is real. My loving, protective brother is real and I did go see him play. And his teammate is real too. Not to mention, all the things that my brother’s teammate made me feel, those are real as well.

But the moment at the end, where he saw me and instantly fell in love?

Yeah, that never happened.

It’s just something I read in one of my romance novels once. And I liked it so much — that he saw her and only her in a room full of people — that I decided to use it for my own story.

In reality, he doesn’t know that I exist.

He doesn’t know that at this very moment, I’m crouched behind the thick shrubbery that lines this strange and unknown backyard and that I’m watching him as a party rages on around us. That I’ve been watching him since the game last week. I skip my classes here and there, drive down to Bardstown without a license and follow him around town. I follow him into parties and observe.

From a distance.

It all sounds very stalker-ish.

But it’s okay.

I’m harmless. I have no bad intentions.

It’s not like I’m going to approach him and say hi. Or flirt with him — which I’m very good at, if I do say so myself — and ask him to hang out with me. I’m not going to make any advances toward him, or any sort of contact, even.

I can’t.

Even if I wanted to.

It’s just how it is.

And so this is all I have and will ever have.

Me watching him from afar while he goes on about his life.

As he drinks from a beer bottle, shoots the shit with his friends, chuckles with them. Although I have to say that I haven’t really seen him laugh yet.

And the longer he makes me wait for it, the more I feel like I’m going to love it when he does laugh.

What I don’t particularly love though is the plethora of girls around him.

The plethora of girls that are always around him. And since I’ve been following — or semi-stalking — him for the last few days, I’ve come to recognize a few. There’s a redhead who finds everything hilarious; a brunette who looks up at him like she’s gazing at the moon; a mocha-skinned black-haired beauty, whose ass is to die for and she never lets him or anyone else forget it; and a couple of other girls that I call transient brunettes because they come and go.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >199

Advertisement
The Hatesick Diaries (St. Mary’s Rebels #5) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.wownovels.com/the-hatesick-diaries-st-marys-rebels-5-read-online-saffron-a-kent Sun, 15 Jan 2023 19:18:36 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-hatesick-diaries-st-marys-rebels-5-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports, Virgin Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >185

vEcho Adler hates Reign Davidson. He’s the reason the love of her life left her all alone and broken hearted two years ago.

So it should be easy to stay away.

It should be easy to not dream about his dark and mean eyes, or his cruel but sexy smirks. It should be easy to not think about the guy who ruined her happily ever after.

Only it’s not.

Sometimes his intense stares make her heart race, and those smirks of his make her breathless.

But it needs to stop.

Because she has a mission: to get back together with her ex-boyfriend. And Echo will be damned if she keeps dreaming about Reign.

The guy who not only makes her sick with hate but who also happens to be her ex’s best friend.

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

CHAPTER ONE

Six years ago. Bardstown

He’s a criminal.

He has to be.

First, he’s wearing all black: black jeans and a black hoodie with the hood up. In summer, no less.

And second, he’s very carefully and cautiously laying out a string on the ground.

It’s a very long string too.

It at least circles around the thick bushes that border this massive back yard, and goes well into the woods behind that back yard. Where I’m currently standing behind the thick trunk of a tree and watching him secretly.

Or more like watching his back, because he’s facing away from me, walking backward.

When he’s come far enough I guess, he stops and kneels on the ground, completely blocking my view.

I can’t see what he’s doing.

Why he’s bent over that string.

Whatever it is though, it can’t be good.

It might even be dangerous.

The prudent thing to do — prudent means practical; also known as feasible, realistic, sensible, matter of fact — is to turn around and run. To get away from him. Especially when no one knows that I’m here, wandering around the woods in the middle of the night, and not up in my bedroom, sleeping like I should be.

In my defense, tonight is special.

Plus I couldn’t sleep in my new bed, in the new house, in a new place.

We — my parents and I — only arrived here last week, see.

Both of them got a new job and so we packed up and left our old apartment in Brooklyn and came to Bardstown to start a new life. As opposed to Brooklyn, everything is super open here: our big two-story house; these woods that I’m taking an impromptu walk in; the back yard beyond it, the giant manor beyond the back yard.

But I’m not going to lie, I miss Brooklyn. I miss my friends, my old school, even our old rundown apartment that had more leaks and squeaky floorboards than not. But it’s okay. My mom always says that you make sacrifices for people you love. That this is what love is.

To compromise. To make adjustments and to be good to the people you love.

So I’m happy as long as my parents are happy.

Except for this.

I’m not happy about this, whatever it is that this boy is doing.

I mean, if he’s really doing something bad then shouldn’t I confront him? Shouldn’t I stop him? I’m new here, yes, but these are my woods now. This is my house, my property and estate.

Well, not technically.

We only live here, but…

“I know you’re there.”

My thoughts come to a screeching halt at those words.

His words.

He said them, right?

Yes, he did.

Even though he hasn’t turned around or stopped doing whatever it is that he’s doing.

What is he doing though?

“I can hear you fucking thinking from over there.”

This time, I have no confusion as to who spoke because his shoulders tense up and his arms jerk, as if his entire body is speaking along with his lips.

Or more like snapping at me.

Which gets my back up and I dig my fingers into the trunk. “I’m not fucking thinking.”

At this, he finally stops and straightens up, cocking his head to the side slightly as if paying attention to me. The only thing he doesn’t do is turn around as he says, “What?”

I know he can’t see me but still I lift my chin as I reply, “I’m just thinking. Period. No fucking.”

Okay, that sounded so much better and smarter in my head, I swear.

Also, not funny.

But apparently it is because it makes him chuckle in response, his shoulders moving again.

And this time I notice that they’re broad.

Probably because he’s straightened up now and isn’t hunched over that string of his. In fact, his shoulders are broader than any guy’s shoulders in my class, either at my old school or the new.

“No fucking, huh,” he drawls. “Well, there’s a lot to unpack there, in that statement. But I don’t think you wanna go there.” I frown as to what he means but he keeps going. “So instead, why don’t you tell me what you’re just thinking about?”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >185

Advertisement
Hey, Mister Marshall (St. Mary’s Rebels #4) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.wownovels.com/hey-mister-marshall-st-marys-rebels-4-read-online-saffron-a-kent Sat, 18 Jun 2022 16:14:25 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/hey-mister-marshall-st-marys-rebels-4-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Forbidden, Romance, Taboo, Virgin Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 188957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >187

Read Online Books/Novels:	Hey, Mister Marshall (St. Mary’s Rebels #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Saffron A. Kent
Language:	English
Book Information:
At eighteen, Poe Blyton’s life is in shambles and the reason is Alaric Marshall. After her mom’s death, he appeared out of nowhere and became Poe’s controlling guardian. When she protested his tyranny, he had the audacity to send her away to an all-girls reform school. A school full of iron clad rules and regulations. But at least she’s graduating soon. Until Alaric himself arrives at the school as the new principal and takes that away from her as well. That devil. He’s really asking for it, isn’t he? And Poe is going to give it to him. It doesn’t matter that her sworn enemy has the prettiest dark eyes she’s ever seen. Or that he looks really, really good in his boring tweed jackets. So much so that she wants to rip them off his body and see what’s underneath. Because scorching hot or not, her new principal or not, Poe is going to ruin Alaric’s life. NOTE - This is a STANDALONE set in the world of St. Mary's......St. Mary’s Rebels #4
Books in Series:	St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Books by Author:	Saffron A. Kent

Pinterest Boards

Alaric & Poe

St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers

For every troublemaking, chaotic and wild soul out there. May you find peace in your complexity. And for my husband, who loves all parts of me, troubled and otherwise.

(n; as defined in the dictionary)

One who causes mischief or difficulties

Synonyms: Rabble-rouser, mischief-maker and Poe Austen Blyton

(n; as defined by Poe and not the dictionary)

History expert; or, a scholar who studies the Renaissance era and wears tweed jackets with elbow patches

Synonyms: Alaric Rule Marshall

If there is one thing I know how to do well it is to plot.

I know how to make a plan. How to work out the details.

How to align all the stars and fit all the moving pieces together.

Which means it’s going to be a very bad day for him.

My victim.

Well, victim sounds sort of ominous. Murderous even.

I promise I’m not going to kill him.

I’m only going to make him wish that he were dead. Or at least wish that he’d never heard my name or allowed me to set foot in his mansion.

In his very stupid and ancient-looking mansion that’s been my home for the past week.

So here I stand, at the second story window, hiding behind the heavy cream-colored drapes as I keep watch over the looming wrought iron gates that mark the entrance of this massive property.

Waiting for him.

Black clouds are gathering up in the sky, and the very air seems hot and heavy, swollen, ready to burst open any second now. And just as lightning flashes across the sky, those hell gates open and I go on the alert.

A sleek black car enters and travels steadily, silently over the graveled pathway, right up to the marble steps where it comes to a stop. My heart thumps in my chest as I wait for my victim to emerge.

And when he does, I move too.

Because it’s showtime.

I collect everything that I need from the foot of my bed and walk out of my room, slowly and silently.

To listen.

Just when I hear a door slamming shut below indicating that he’s in place – in his study specifically; which is where he goes after he comes back from work – I take off.

I go down the stairs and turn left at the landing, rushing toward the kitchen.

Stopping at a storage room, I go inside. I find a stepladder and climb up to the vent. I pop the grill thingy out and hoist one of the things — a cage — that I brought with me and put it inside, before pulling up and getting inside myself. I crawl through the short space and when I reach another grill thingy, I stop and look through the slats.

Into the grand kitchen.

Usually it’s bustling with activity but right now, at seven in the evening, everyone has gone home.

Except Mo.

The head housekeeper with a mop of silver hair and a warm smile.

Who lives here and is currently busy warming up dinner for him.

For a second as I watch Mo, scooping out spaghetti and meatballs and pouring that creamy red sauce over them, I hesitate. What I have planned for him also involves Mo, and I like Mo.

Even though I’ve only known her for a week, I think Mo is cool.

She’s really gone out of her way to make me feel comfortable in this strange house and in this strange situation. The rest of the staff is nice too, if I’m being honest. But Mo has been the friendliest.

Unlike her master.

Who’s yet to have a conversation with me.

It’s okay though. I’m going to change that tonight.

Keeping my eyes on Mo, I fish out my phone from my jeans pocket and dial the home number; Mo had me program it into my cell for emergencies. The call connects and I hear the ring, both through my phone and in the hallway.

As expected, Mo puts the pasta away and goes out into the hallway to pick up the phone.

Because he never picks up the phone. Even when he’s home.

I guess he’s just too good to talk to people, isn’t he?

Fucking asshole.

But this time, it works out in my favor.

Muting the speaker, I leave the line open through which I can hear Mo’s voice. I pop open the grid thingy again, take the mouse out of the cage – the one I bought from one of my contacts in New York; yeah, I have sources – and dangle my arm out to simply let it go. Like a champ, it jumps out of my palm and lands on the counter. From there, it skitters away, choosing to stay stuck to the black and white vintage backsplash as it makes its way to the stove.

I quickly pop the grid back in and climb out of the duct. I peek my head out of the storage room to see that, annoyed, Mo has hung up the phone and is now walking back into the kitchen. Since the coast is clear, I get out of the storage room and run back the same way I came to take my position.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >187

Advertisement
These Thorn Kisses (St. Mary’s Rebels #3) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.wownovels.com/these-thorn-kisses-st-marys-rebels-3-read-online-saffron-a-kent Thu, 09 Dec 2021 07:26:52 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/these-thorn-kisses-st-marys-rebels-3-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Angst, Erotic, Forbidden, New Adult, Romance, Virgin Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 174
Estimated words: 173355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 693(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >174

Read Online Books/Novels:	These Thorn Kisses (St. Mary’s Rebels #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Saffron A. Kent
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B096735QY7
Book Information:
Eighteen-year-old, Bronwyn Littleton is in love with a stranger she met on a summer night a year ago. A stranger who was tall and broad in a way that made her feel safe. He had dark blue eyes that she can’t stop drawing in her sketch book. And he had a deep, soothing voice that she can’t stop hearing in her dreams. That’s all she knows about him though. Until she runs into him again. At St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers – an all girls reform school – where she’s trapped because of a little crime she committed in the name of her art. Now she knows that her dream man has a name: Conrad Thorne. She knows that his eyes are way bluer and way more beautiful than she thought. And that his face is an artist’s wonderland. But she also knows that Conrad is her best friend’s older brother. Which means he’s completely off-limits. Not to mention, he’s the new soccer coach, which makes him off-limits times two. What makes him off-limits times three however, and this whole scenario an epic tragedy, is that, Conrad, Wyn’s dream man, has a dream girl of his own. And he’s as much in love with his dream girl as Wyn is in love with him… NOTE: This is a STANDALONE set in the world of St. Mary’s.
Books in Series:	St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Books by Author:	Saffron A. Kent

Dream (n.):

A mosaic of thoughts, ideas and images that run through your mind while asleep.

Also, a goal or an ambition

Broken Dream (n.):

No such thing. Because dreams don’t break. They evolve and morph and grow as you grow. Dreams are what you make them.

There’s a man I’m staring at.

Let’s call him Mystery Man.

He’s tall. And broad.

In fact, he’s so tall and so broad that he’s bursting out of his clothes. He is.

The black suit that he’s wearing can barely contain him. It looks like his shoulders, muscular and so totally sculpted, will bust out of his suit jacket. And that chest which appears rock hard and cut will tear out of his white dress shirt.

That’s the first indication that he’s not from here.

Not the fact that he’s quite possibly the most built and athletic man I’ve ever seen in my short sixteen and a half years of life. But the fact that his suit is clearly ill-fitted and outdated.

Making me think that he doesn’t wear it often, or even if he does wear it, he doesn’t care about keeping up with the latest styles and fashions or the fact that his body is too large for it.

How fascinating.

To not care about such silly, superficial things.

Actually no. That’s not the most fascinating thing about him.

The most fascinating thing about this Mystery Man is his hair.

It’s long.

Well, long-ish.

It not only curls at the ends, brushing and grazing the collar of that outdated suit jacket, but it also falls over his forehead. Some strands are even hanging down to his brows. And then there are strands that flutter over the side of his face.

By this town’s standards, he totally needs a haircut and hair gel. A comb too, maybe.

And I so very much don’t want him to get any of those things because God, I’ve never seen hair like that. I might have seen a physique like his — although I doubt that; no one’s as tall or large as him where I come from — but not the hair.

I wish I could tell the exact color of his hair but he’s standing in such a dark, lonely corner of this spacious yet crowded ballroom that I can’t. I can’t even see his face very clearly. All I can see are lines that ride high in his cheekbones and angles that slant so beautifully in his jaw.

But whatever I can see has me utterly convinced that he is definitely, definitely not from Wuthering Garden, the town I live in. The town that I don’t really venture out of.

Because the towns surrounding our town are “beneath us.”

At least that’s what my mom says.

She says that those towns are full of poor, desperate, middle-class people who know nothing about our rich and fabulous ways. In fact, those people would do anything to learn our ways and be like us.

So we need to protect ourselves from them.

We need to stick to our town, to our people and to our posh society where people get regular haircuts and never ever wear anything last season.

So maybe I should just stand here, in my own dark and lonely corner which is very graciously doubling as a hiding spot, and not walk up to him.

I should probably not think about asking him his name or where he came from. Or what he’s doing here at this party.

Not to mention, why does it look like he’s not breathing?

I could be wrong about that though. About the not breathing part.

Because as I said I’m all the way over here, hidden between two potted plants, and he’s all the way over there, at almost the opposite end of the ballroom. But I swear to God, I haven’t seen him move once in the past ten minutes that I’ve been watching him.

I haven’t seen him reach for a drink when the waiter passed by or nod at any of the people who have walked by him and actually paused to throw him a second look. I have a feeling that it wasn’t because he looks like he doesn’t belong here but because of how rugged and interesting he is.

Because mostly who did pause and give him a second look were women. Mothers of some of my classmates even.

But anyway, it’s none of my business why he appears so deathly still or what exactly is the color of his hair. I should just stick to my hiding spot and stop watching him.

I should worry about my own self.

I should; tonight is a big night for me. Sort of.

It looks like I’m not going to though, worry about myself that is. It looks like I’m going to come out of my hiding spot and walk up to him. I even take a few steps in his direction, and of course that’s my first mistake.

Because of course I get caught.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >174

Advertisement
A Gorgeous Villain (St. Mary’s Rebels #2) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.wownovels.com/a-gorgeous-villain-st-marys-rebels-2-read-online-saffron-a-kent Tue, 08 Jun 2021 20:43:39 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/a-gorgeous-villain-st-marys-rebels-2-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Angst, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Romance, Sports Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 207638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1038(@200wpm)___ 831(@250wpm)___ 692(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >206

Read Online Books/Novels:	A Gorgeous Villain (St. Mary’s Rebels #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Saffron A. Kent
Language:	English
Book Information:
NOTE - This book is a STANDALONE set in the world of St. Mary's. The book contains NO CHEATING. Two years ago, Reed Jackson betrayed Calliope Thorne and broke her heart. So she stole his most prized possession – a white mustang – and drove it into the lake for revenge. Now, Callie is stuck at a reform school while Reed is off at college, living his life without repercussions. Until he comes back. With him comes back all the feelings that Callie has been trying to bury: anger and heartbreak. But most of all, desire. At the sight of his beautiful but lying lips and his gunmetal gray eyes that still taunt and smolder when he looks at her. Whatever though. It’s not as if Callie is ever going to fall for her ex-boyfriend again. Or let him corner her in a bar one night and touch her, kiss her… Neither is she going to kiss him back. Or worse, sleep with him. Because that would make her naïve and foolish. Oh, and also pregnant. And there’s no way Callie is ever going to get pregnant at eighteen and with Reed’s baby, no less. The guy she hates. The guy who taught her all about heartbreak. Who might look like a gorgeous hero but really is the villain of her story.
Books in Series:	St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Books by Author:	Saffron A. Kent

PS: Please note that in order to fit the plot and the timeline some things such as high school soccer season and Juilliard admission process have been altered.

He has beautiful gray eyes, gunmetal gray that sometimes glow in the night.

So much so that people call them wolf eyes.

His jaw is sharp and angled, a true V, and his skin looks like priceless marble. Again, so much so that people say he’s got wintry, vampire skin.

They say he’s got magic, dark magic, running through his veins.

If a girl so much as looks into his pretty wolf eyes, no one can save her from falling for him.

No one can save her from getting her heart broken either.

Because he never falls. He is mighty. Everyone knows that.

He’s a heartbreaker. A player.

People say he doesn’t even have a heart, or if he does, it’s pitch black.

But he knows how to toy with yours.

He knows how to play with it. How to toss it up in the air just for fun and how to tie it up with strings and play with it like a puppet. And when he gets bored, he knows how to let it slip through his fingers and drop on the ground, breaking it into tiny little pieces.

Yet girls can’t help but come back for more. Over and over and over again.

They can’t help but come back to the Wild Mustang.

Or the Mustang for short.

That’s what people call him. That’s his soccer nickname.

He plays soccer, yeah.

Soccer is quite popular in our town. In fact, he’s the soccer legend of Bardstown High. And he’s as majestic and magical as an untamed mustang. As reckless and edgy and completely mesmerizing.

Although I don’t call him that.

The name that I get to call him is something completely different, something that I’ve come up with after a lot of deliberation and thought: a villain.

That’s what I call him.

A Gorgeous Villain, actually. Because well, he is gorgeous, but he’s a villain, and I have good reason to believe that.

Four good reasons.

Four overprotective, overbearing, older reasons. My brothers. Who hate him with all the fire in their hearts.

Well, not all of them hate him with all the fire in their hearts. Only one of my brothers does, Ledger. The other three just hate him a normal amount.

Why does Ledger hate him the most though?

Because the Gorgeous Villain is Ledger’s soccer rival.

My brother plays soccer too and he’s a legend in himself. They call him the Angry Thorn, because my brother is a hothead and our last name is Thorne.

Anyway, they both play for the same team. And should potentially be friends and have the same agenda.

However, they aren’t–friends, I mean. And they don’t have the same agenda, at all.

Probably because they’re both forwards for Bardstown High. One is left wing and the other is right and basically, they’re supposed to help each other.

But they don’t because they have this ongoing, age-old contest, where whoever scores the most goals in the season wins.

It’s a matter of pride and honor and a whole lot of testosterone.

I don’t know how it got started, this contest, rivalry, whatever you want to call it, but they both take it very seriously. Their whole team, which is divided into my brother’s camp, the Thorn camp, and his camp, the Mustang camp, takes it seriously as well.

So does the whole town.

Whoever wins this unofficial contest becomes the reigning champion. This year it’s my brother – he won by one measly goal last season – who also happens to be the captain of the team.

The whole town treats him like a king.

Which means free drinks, free food at local restaurants, posters on park benches and light poles. Back pats from people on the street and of course, all the attention from girls.

Trust me when I say that these two will go to any lengths to be the winner.

They’ll do anything to mess with each other, ruin each other’s game on and off the field just so they have a better chance of scoring goals.

And for years I’ve heard about it, about their rivalry, about him.

I’ve heard how corrupt he is, how evil and twisted. How he’d do anything to win at soccer. How much of an asshole, douchebag, bastard, motherfucker, and all those things he is.

But of course, I can’t call him that. I can’t call him all those names.

I’m a good girl.

I don’t curse.

Besides, my brothers curse enough for all of us.

Hence the name: A Gorgeous Villain.

Anyway, it’s game day and I’m at the soccer field right now.

A little personal confession: I don’t like soccer. Not at all.

I think it’s boring and I’d rather be home right now, either baking cookies or cupcakes, or knitting in my favorite armchair by the fire. Two of my favorite things to do.

Another personal confession: I don’t understand this rivalry either. I don’t understand this whole need to win and be the best at any cost. I mean, they play for the same team, don’t they? If the team wins, they win, correct?

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >206

Advertisement
The Wild Mustang & The Dancing Fairy (St. Mary’s Rebels #1.5) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.wownovels.com/the-wild-mustang-the-dancing-fairy-st-marys-rebels-1-5-read-online-saffron-a-kent Sun, 25 Apr 2021 11:47:55 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-wild-mustang-the-dancing-fairy-st-marys-rebels-1-5-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Romance Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 46183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >46

Read Online Books/Novels:	The Wild Mustang & The Dancing Fairy (St. Mary’s Rebels #1.5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Saffron A. Kent
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B092ZYCFH5
Book Information:
Calliope Thorne is a good girl. A straight-A student, a rule follower, and an aspiring ballerina. But most of all, she’s a good sister to her four older brothers. Brothers whom she loves and adores to pieces. Brothers who love and adore her to pieces in return. And who hate just one and one thing only–Reed Jackson. Rich, arrogant, and the most popular guy at Bardstown High, Reed is Callie’s brothers’ enemy and she has sworn to stay away from him. Until one night when she wanders into the woods and finds herself in his clutches. A villain with pretty gray eyes and a seductive smirk. Until he asks her to dance for him with a look in those eyes that makes her forget why falling for her brothers’ enemy is a bad idea. NOTE: This is a 40,000-word prequel novella for A GORGEOUS VILLAIN. The story concludes in A GORGEOUS VILLAIN.
Books in Series:	St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Books by Author:	Saffron A. Kent

He has beautiful gray eyes, gunmetal gray that sometimes glow in the night.

So much so that people call them wolf eyes.

His jaw is sharp and angled, a true V, and his skin looks like priceless marble. Again, so much so that people say he’s got wintry, vampire skin.

They say he’s got magic, dark magic, running through his veins.

If a girl so much as looks into his pretty wolf eyes, no one can save her from falling for him.

No one can save her from getting her heart broken either.

Because he never falls. He is mighty. Everyone knows that.

He’s a heartbreaker. A player.

People say he doesn’t even have a heart, or if he does, it’s pitch black.

But he knows how to toy with yours.

He knows how to play with it. How to toss it up in the air just for fun and how to tie it up with strings and play with it like a puppet. And when he gets bored, he knows how to let it slip through his fingers and drop on the ground, breaking it into tiny little pieces.

Yet girls can’t help but come back for more. Over and over and over again.

They can’t help but come back to the Wild Mustang.

Or the Mustang for short.

That’s what people call him. That’s his soccer nickname.

He plays soccer, yeah.

Soccer is quite popular in our town. In fact, he’s the soccer legend of Bardstown High. And he’s as majestic and magical as an untamed mustang. As reckless and edgy and completely mesmerizing.

Although I don’t call him that.

The name that I get to call him is something completely different, something that I’ve come up with after a lot of deliberation and thought: a villain.

That’s what I call him.

A Gorgeous Villain, actually. Because well, he is gorgeous, but he’s a villain, and I have good reason to believe that.

Four good reasons.

Four overprotective, overbearing, older reasons. My brothers. Who hate him with all the fire in their hearts.

Well, not all of them hate him with all the fire in their hearts. Only one of my brothers does, Ledger. The other three just hate him a normal amount.

Why does Ledger hate him the most though?

Because the Gorgeous Villain is Ledger’s soccer rival.

My brother plays soccer too and he’s a legend in himself. They call him the Angry Thorn, because my brother is a hothead and our last name is Thorne.

Anyway, they both play for the same team. And should potentially be friends and have the same agenda.

However, they aren’t–friends, I mean. And they don’t have the same agenda, at all.

Probably because they’re both forwards for Bardstown High. One is left wing and the other is right and basically, they’re supposed to help each other.

But they don’t because they have this ongoing, age-old contest, where whoever scores the most goals in the season wins.

It’s a matter of pride and honor and a whole lot of testosterone.

I don’t know how it got started, this contest, rivalry, whatever you want to call it, but they both take it very seriously. Their whole team, which is divided into my brother’s camp, the Thorn camp, and his camp, the Mustang camp, takes it seriously as well.

So does the whole town.

Whoever wins this unofficial contest becomes the reigning champion. This year it’s my brother – he won by one measly goal last season – who also happens to be the captain of the team.

The whole town treats him like a king.

Which means free drinks, free food at local restaurants, posters on park benches and light poles. Back pats from people on the street and of course, all the attention from girls.

Trust me when I say that these two will go to any lengths to be the winner.

They’ll do anything to mess with each other, ruin each other’s game on and off the field just so they have a better chance of scoring goals.

And for years I’ve heard about it, about their rivalry, about him.

I’ve heard how corrupt he is, how evil and twisted. How he’d do anything to win at soccer. How much of an asshole, douchebag, bastard, motherfucker, and all those things he is.

But of course, I can’t call him that. I can’t call him all those names.

I’m a good girl.

I don’t curse.

Besides, my brothers curse enough for all of us.

Hence the name: A Gorgeous Villain.

Anyway, it’s game day and I’m at the soccer field right now.

A little personal confession: I don’t like soccer. Not at all.

I think it’s boring and I’d rather be home right now, either baking cookies or cupcakes, or knitting in my favorite armchair by the fire. Two of my favorite things to do.

Another personal confession: I don’t understand this rivalry either. I don’t understand this whole need to win and be the best at any cost. I mean, they play for the same team, don’t they? If the team wins, they win, correct?

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >46

Advertisement
My Darling Arrow Read online Saffron A. Kent (St. Mary’s Rebels #1) http://www.wownovels.com/my-darling-arrow-1-read-online-saffron-a-kent Thu, 03 Sep 2020 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/my-darling-arrow-1-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 134387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 672(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >133

Read Online Books/Novels:	My Darling Arrow (St. Mary’s Rebels #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Saffron A. Kent
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	9798676779641
Book Information:
Darling Arrow, I shouldn’t be writing this. It’s not as if I’m ever going to send you this letter and there are a million reasons why. First of all, I was sent to St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers – an all-girls reform school – as a punishment for a petty, totally inconsequential crime. Not to ogle the principal’s hot son around the campus. Second of all, you’re a giant jerk. You’re arrogant and moody and so cold. Sometimes I think I shouldn’t even like you. But strangely your coldness sets me on fire. The way your athletic body moves on the soccer field and the way your powerful thighs sprawl across that bike of yours, make me go inappropriately breathless. But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that you, Arrow Carlisle, are not only the principal’s hot son. You also happen to be the love of my sister’s life. And I really shouldn’t be thinking about my sister’s boyfriend or rather fiancé (I overheard a conversation about the ring that I shouldn’t have.) Now if I can only stop writing you these meaningless letters that I’ll never send and you’ll never read… Never yours, Salem NOTE: This book is a standalone and DOES NOT contain cheating.
Books in Series:	St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Books by Author:	Saffron A. Kent

Some girls are born perfect.

They have perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect skin.

They have perfect grades and high ambitions. They’re popular and admired. They’re adored and revered. And loved.

I’m not one of them.

That’s the first thing to know about me: I’m not perfect.

I have flaws. Many, many flaws.

I don’t have perfect grades. I don’t have high ambitions.

I don’t get why the sum of all the angles of a triangle has to be one hundred and eighty or the world will collapse. Or why when we talk about the heart, we reduce it to a muscular organ with four chambers that’s sole purpose is to pump blood through the body.

I’m far from being popular and I’ve got something called witchy eyes.

Or at least, I call them that.

They’re golden in color and they arch up at the corners, making them look sort of catty, witchy. Which is super poetic because I’ve got a witchy name too.

Salem.

Salem Salinger, and the second thing to know about me is that along with witchy eyes and a witchy name, I’ve got a witchy heart as well.

Meaning, my heart has secrets.

In fact, my heart is swollen with secrets. Many, many secrets like my many, many flaws. And that is why I did what I did.

The thing that landed me here.

The little, inconsequential crime that got me sent to St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers – an all-girls reform school.

Only they don’t call it a reform school anymore.

It’s not the 50s or the 60s. These days, schools like this are called therapeutic school. Because they believe in therapy. And restoration and reformation. They believe in teaching us to be productive members of society.

Who’s us?

We’re the bad and hopeless girls.

We’re the girls who break rules and love rebellion. We don’t like school or classes. So we keep getting into trouble with our classmates and teachers. Sometimes we get expelled multiple times from multiple schools until our parents or guardians are forced to take drastic actions.

Some of us break the law too, which technically I did.

I mean, there were a couple of cops involved. They didn’t handcuff me or anything but I had to ride in their squad car and go to the police station. But there were no charges pressed. Instead, I was sent to St. Mary’s.

I’ve been here almost a week and I’m already behind. In assignments, I mean.

God, the assignments and homework.

They’re very strict about that here.

So I really shouldn’t be falling asleep in class if I want to catch up.

But it’s Friday afternoon and it’s trigonometry and it’s not as if I’m magically going to understand everything to do with triangles and tangents by paying attention in the last fifteen minutes of the class anyway.

Honestly, I don’t think anyone is paying attention even though everyone is quiet and facing the blackboard.

There are probably fifteen other girls besides me in this small beige-painted concrete and cement classroom where I sit in the back.

We’re all slumped over the hard, wooden desks, with our chins in our hands.

We all have tight braids either flowing down our backs or draped over our shoulders, tied at the end with a mustard-colored ribbon. We all wear a starched white blouse and a mustard-yellow skirt that touches the tops of our knees. Except I have a black chunky sweater on because I’m a sunshine girl and the inside of St. Mary’s feels like winter.

We pair our uniforms with knee-length white socks and polished black Mary Janes.

Our notebooks are lying open in front of us and our butts are planted in chairs as hard and wooden as the desks.

From time to time, we squirm and adjust ourselves in our seats because I’m guessing the wood is digging into our asses.

At least, it’s digging into mine.

So it should be really hard to fall asleep, right? Or daydream.

But I’m doing both until I hear a sound.

Psst…

It’s coming from my right. Slowly I turn to find my neighbor, over in the adjacent row, trying to get my attention.

It’s a girl I’ve seen before.

Around campus, in the cafeteria and in the dorm building where every student who goes to St. Mary’s stays, but I’ve never talked to her.

Because no one talks to me here.

I’ve actually tried very hard to get them to talk to me or even smile at me or just wave their hand at me by waving mine but I haven’t been successful. I can’t even get my roommate, Elanor, to say hi to me.

So I don’t know what this girl, my neighbor with blonde hair, wants from me. But as soon as our eyes meet, she motions her head toward something.

Biting my lip, I look at what she’s pointing at.

It’s a piece of paper.

It’s sitting at the edge of my desk, folded over twice to make a little square.

For a second, I can’t comprehend what a piece of paper is doing on my desk. Confused, I look up from it and focus back on the girl. She widens her eyes at me and gestures at it with her chin again.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >133

Read Online Books/Novels:

Hey, Mister Marshall (St. Mary’s Rebels #4)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

Read Online Books/Novels:

These Thorn Kisses (St. Mary’s Rebels #3)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B096735QY7

Read Online Books/Novels:

A Gorgeous Villain (St. Mary’s Rebels #2)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

Read Online Books/Novels:

The Wild Mustang & The Dancing Fairy (St. Mary’s Rebels #1.5)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B092ZYCFH5

Read Online Books/Novels:

My Darling Arrow (St. Mary’s Rebels #1)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

9798676779641