Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Sun, 11 Jun 2023 19:41:38 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.2 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 Possessing Eden (Disciples #7) Read Online Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty http://www.wownovels.com/possessing-eden-disciples-7-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Sun, 11 Jun 2023 19:41:38 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/possessing-eden-disciples-7-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia Authors: Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty Series: Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
Series: Sean Moriarty
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)

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They say you Reap what you sow and now I’m in over my head.

Unable to bear my abusive marriage one second longer… I go on the run with my infant son without a penny to my name. When I’m offered a job to spy on the most notorious crime family in the city, I jump on it. Willing to sell my soul to keep my son fed and safe. But Jude catches me in the act and becomes completely obsessed with me. Now he’s forcing his way into my life. Claiming my son and I belong to him. He’s so psychotic, he believes we were brought together by destiny… And plans to make me his wife. With or without my consent.

Possessing Eden is a standalone dark romance in the Disciples series.

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

1

Eden

“What I do with my money is my own damn business!” Kyle roars, his face blood red with fury.

The glass he was holding shatters against the wall a split-second later, narrowly missing my head.

I flinch as whatever he was drinking splatters against my left side.

Chest heaving, the veins in his throat pulsing, Kyle clenches his fists and stalks angrily towards me.

Instinctually, I cower, pressing back against the wall.

And hate myself a little bit more for it.

As Kyle’s big legs quickly eat up the distance between us, I loathe myself for putting myself in this situation.

I should have known better. Multiple people warned me I was making a mistake when I agreed to marry him. That he was hot-headed and prone to temper tantrums. But I was young, naïve, and fucking stupid. Looking for an escape from my shitty home situation.

He offered me hope. Stability. A way out of a hole I thought I would never be able to climb out of on my own.

He promised to always protect me and take care of me. To love me and be by my side, whatever may come.

He pretty much sold me the fucking Brooklyn Bridge and my dumbass bought it.

I knew better. I fucking knew better, and still I fell for it.

Everyone in my life has let me down one way or another.

Yet, somehow, I thought he would be different.

“If you don’t like it, you can get a fucking job!” Kyle screams in my face as he reaches me.

Cringing, I focus on resisting the urge to bring my hands up to shield myself because I know it will only make him angrier.

Kyle is a big guy. He’s got at least five inches on me and a ton of muscle to go with it. He’s intimidating when he’s not angry. When he’s furious, he’s downright terrifying.

His fist slams against the wall beside me and I nearly jump out of my skin.

“I’m fucking tired of you nagging me to death!” he roars, almost blowing out my eardrums and spraying me with spit.

Wild, rage-filled eyes locking on mine, he dares me to give him a reason to hurt me. To push this further.

I know from past experiences that any little thing I do will be used as an excuse for his actions.

So I resort to doing what I do best.

I force myself to do nothing.

To feel nothing.

No anger. No hurt.

I flip the switch I found inside me long ago, turning everything off.

The fear, the need to survive, the hopelessness.

Whatever little love I ever had for him…

It’s all gone.

Tucked away in a little box to suffer through later.

Utterly empty of everything that makes me a person, I stare back at him.

While his eyes beg me for it. Beg me to give him what in his mind must be permission to go to the next step.

Anything can and will be used as an excuse.

Breathing too hard. Twitching just a little bit.

Even blinking can set him off.

When it finally dawns on him that I have no plans of talking or fighting back, some of the fire in his eyes dies down and his mouth pulls into a scowl.

I can practically see the wheels starting to turn inside his head as he tries to think of a way to get me to give him what he wants.

He can’t just hit me. Oh no, that will not do. He needs it to somehow be my fault, otherwise he’d have to take the blame for being an asshole.

And if there’s one thing he’s incapable of doing, it’s taking the blame for anything.

Personal responsibility doesn’t exist in his vocabulary.

Nothing is ever his fault.

He never makes a mistake.

If things go wrong because of something he’s done or the choices he’s made, it’s either really someone else’s fault or the universe is out to get him.

In his mind, he’s practically a god. Infallible and perfect.

While in reality, he’s a fucking loser. A loser that will never get anywhere in life because he’s incapable of learning from his fuckups.

Can’t learn from them if you never make them…

Huffing and puffing, he makes a grunting noise and leans into me. “Did you fucking hear me?”

The question is bait and there’s no fucking way I’m walking into the trap.

Not again.

In the past, I let him suck me in. Let him send me over the edge with him. His fury sending me down a spiral of agonizing misery.

I used to stupidly believe I could reason with him. That I could calm him down with an apology or a little logic.

I didn’t understand it back then. I didn’t understand that he rages at me and hurts me because he wants to. Not because he’s genuinely upset over anything I’ve said or done.

Trying to defend myself is futile and a complete waste of breath.

He wants to use me as his verbal and physical punching bag because that’s all I am to him.

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Trapping Sophia (Disciples #6) Read Online Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty http://www.wownovels.com/trapping-sophia-disciples-6-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Sun, 10 Jan 2021 20:27:37 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/trapping-sophia-disciples-6-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Genre: Dark, Erotic, Romance Authors: Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty Series: Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
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Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 133182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Trapping Sophia (Disciples #6)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B08S7FGQS5
Book Information:
I'm a psycho. A stalker. A sick and obsessed monster... I'm what happens when you keep a man away from the woman he wants. They said I couldn't have her... That grabbing and keeping the Police Chief's daughter would bring too much down on our heads. I listened. I obeyed. And I've been slowly going mad with the need to make her mine ever since. For seven months, I've watched her from afar and followed her every move. Protecting her. Killing for her. And she doesn't even know I exist. She doesn't know how I burn and ache after our one kiss. Now her father's dead. She's weak and in pain, reeling from the loss. All alone in the world now. Unprotected. If I was a good man, I'd give her time and space to deal with her grief. I'd give her room to heal. But I'm not a good man. I'm a bad man. And she has no idea what's coming for her...
Books in Series:	Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
Books by Author:	Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty

Prologue

Sophia

7 Months Ago

Somewhere in Garden City

“Up against the wall!” a man dressed in all black fatigues barks loudly while motioning impatiently with the automatic rifle gripped in his hands.

My friend Amanda clings to my side as we’re quickly herded into an empty warehouse room. Herded just like animals being led to slaughter with a group of other shivering, naked women.

No, not animals. Pets. Isn’t that what that Russian man called us after he killed Lindsey?

His pets.

But we’re not even that in the eyes of these men.

Since the night my friends and I were brazenly grabbed out of a parking lot and shoved into the back of a van, I’ve learned we are simply flesh.

Warm flesh that is easily forced to move, bend, and break.

And just as easily discarded.

“Move it! Keep it moving!” another man yells from behind us, and without warning I’m pushed forward.

My toes bump into the heels of the red-haired woman in front of me and we both nearly go down in a heap of naked limbs.

Only Amanda’s death grip on me keeps me from dropping to the concrete floor.

Catching my balance, I quickly grab the elbow of the woman in front of me to help steady her, and then suddenly Amanda bumps into me with a yelp as we’re both pushed forward again.

“Backs against the wall! Get ‘em up against the wall!” the guy with the rifle yells, his words cracking like thunder over the small, fearful whimpers echoing around me.

Then he shoves the woman closest to him to show he means business.

The other women in front of me scramble to obey the order as the armed man works his way down the line, pushing and shoving. But I can’t move with the way Amanda’s fingers are digging into the flesh above my hips.

“Amanda,” I whisper urgently and reach down, trying to loosen her grip, but it’s hopeless.

Looking back into her eyes, it’s clear she’s gone. The lights are on, but she’s so terrified and traumatized, no one’s home.

She completely checked out earlier when the men grabbed us from the concrete cell they’ve been keeping us in to bring us here.

And, god help me, I don’t know if she’s ever coming back.

She’s been crying ever since we were first taken. Crying so much, at times it’s been annoying.

But this is different.

This is…

I don’t even know what this is.

We’ve only been separated once during this whole ordeal. Once, and she came back…

Broken.

Something must have happened to her when she was separated from Beth and me. Something so awful, she couldn’t bear to do it again.

Something so terrible, it took two men to carry her out this time, kicking and screaming.

I thought for sure they were going to kill her, just like they killed Lindsey when she put up a fight and resisted.

Until one of the men grabbed Amanda’s hand, pressed it against his groin, and whispered in her ear.

Then she went limp.

She’s been completely out of it since then, and I don’t know how to fix her.

The only thing I know with any certainty is that if we don’t do what these evil men say, they will kill us.

“What the fuck is going on here?” the armed man asks as he reaches Amanda and me.

His lip curls with disgust as his hard eyes roam down my body and lock on Amanda’s white-knuckled grip.

“I said backs against the wall, you stupid bitches! Not to grab each other’s asses!”

Still holding his rifle with both hands, he uses it to shove me backward, sending both Amanda and me into the wall.

My right shoulder bangs and scrapes against the rough brick as I stumble back, and Amanda’s fingers clench so hard her nails pierce my skin.

The pain barely registers though over my panic.

If she doesn’t let go, this could be the fucking end for the both of us.

Reaching down, I frantically try to pry her fingers off me again, but nothing I do seems to move her. Nothing until the armed man takes a step in her direction and reaches out like he’s going to grab her.

Throwing her hands up, Amanda quickly jumps away from me.

With tears streaming down her face, she begs, “No, no, no… please…”

Holding my breath, I watch the man with the rifle pause, and pray that he decides to move on and leave her alone now that we’re separated.

But God must be ignoring my prayers again.

A gleam of wicked realization fills the man’s eyes.

My heart sinks to my stomach as the man takes another step toward Amanda, his mouth curving with amusement.

Amanda tries to make herself as small as possible, nearly bending in half as she wraps her arms around herself.

For a split-second, I’m paralyzed as I relive the exact moment I watched another man lift a gun and kill my friend Lindsey before I had a chance to stop it.

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Taking Meghan Read online Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty (Disciples #5) http://www.wownovels.com/taking-meghan-5-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Tue, 13 Aug 2019 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/taking-meghan-5-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Romance Authors: Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty Series: Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
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Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Taking Meghan (Disciples #5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Izzy Sweet	Sean Moriarty
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07S1XR2QS
Book Information:
Alexei Rastov is the most vile, evil, despicable man in the world... And my father tried to force me to marry him. Dragged down the aisle, I prayed to God, to anyone, to save me from a lifetime of cruelty and abuse. Then he came... a force of nature... Disrupting the ceremony with a storm of gunfire and death. Massive, powerful, and handsome, the enemy of my enemy has promised me his protection if I agree to give myself to him. But sometimes the devil you know is safer than the dark angel who wants you in his bed... A Dark Romance.
Books in Series:	Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
Books by Author:	Izzy Sweet	Sean Moriarty

Prologue

Meghan

One month ago

Bethlehem

“I take it you called me here because everything went off as planned?” a smooth Russian voice drifts into the hallway outside my father’s office.

My father is so confident, so fucking brazen, he didn’t even bother to close the door. No, it sits wide open, allowing anyone and everyone walking by to overhear. He either has supreme faith in our household’s devotion and loyalty, or he’s grown stupider and stupider over the years.

I’m inclined to believe the latter.

“Yes. The target, Lucky Tails, is…” My father pauses. There’s a metallic clink followed by the unmistakable sound of a lighter being sparked. “No more.”

“Good… good.” The Russian chuckles and then the old, stiff leather of my father’s chair creaks. Someone inhales and exhales. “Any notable causalities?”

A wispy white cloud of smoke floats out of the room.

The lighter clinks shut and my father seems to hesitate before reluctantly admitting, “Only our inside contact.”

“I trust you’re taking care of that?”

Again, my father hesitates, and it gives me great joy to know it pains him to admit his failures.

“My men are on it. Her house is being dealt with as we speak.”

Her?

“Very good,” the Russian says, sounding pleased, and then there’s a long moment of silence.

I shift uncomfortably on my feet and glance down the hallway, my ears straining. If any of my father’s staff catches me eavesdropping on him, I’ll be beaten and locked inside my room for the next twenty years.

But I need to know why my father called me home from school. I need to know why he’s locked me up in this house. Why he won’t let me leave or contact anyone. Why all my IDs, credit cards, cash, computers, and phones have been confiscated…

And I have this awful, dreadful feeling that the answer is enjoying a cigar with him in that room.

“Alexei?” my father finally says, breaking the tense silence.

“Yes?” the Russian drawls out.

“I’ve fulfilled my side of the bargain…”

“You have,” Alexei answers simply, and it’s obvious even to me that he’s playing my father like a fiddle.

How my father retains his control over the Callahan family is a mystery even to me. I suppose most of it is due to a great deal of luck and opportunity. Most of the other Irish families in this part of the country have been wiped out by the Italians, causalities in a senseless turf war.

There simply aren’t enough powerful men left to overthrow him.

“I believe it’s time to take the next step and solidify our alliance.”

An alliance between the Irish and Russians… Just the thought makes me sick to my stomach.

What is this world coming to?

Hasn’t there been enough death? Enough bloodshed?

“Indeed,” Alexei says, sounding strangely pleased. “Is she here?”

She, as in me? Fuck. I’m currently the only ‘she’ in residence. My beloved mother passed away in a car bombing a year ago. My father blamed it on the Italians, but I know deep in my heart it was the Irish, this family, that killed her. The Italians may have set the bomb, but she would have never been in any danger if it wasn’t for this damn family.

“Yes. I called her home two weeks ago.”

Double fuck. I wish for once in my life that my gut was wrong. Why they need me to solidify their alliance though still doesn’t make any sense.

Unless… but no… that’s too old school and beyond archaic.

My father is a bastard of the highest degree, but I still refuse to believe he’d force me to marry a man I don’t want to marry. There’s still a touch of decency inside him. Still a touch of compassion for the only blood he has left…

“I trust she’s been prepared and knows what will be expected of her? I’d hate to have to break her in…”

Even as the blood drains from my face, I can picture my father’s face flushing bright red as he sputters with indignation. “My Meghan is a fine, upstanding young lass, and would make any man proud.”

God, what the fuck? Have I time-travelled back to the eighteenth century? This can’t be real.

Alexei chuckles as if he finds my father’s statement amusing, and then says, “You mean my Meghan.”

The way he says it, at first it comes off almost casual, but there’s a firmness there. Beneath the leftover amusement of his chuckle lurks something dangerous. Something that causes all the little hairs on my body to stand on end and my skin to prickle with apprehension.

To be married to that man… to be owned by him…

It’s simply unthinkable. I’m not a fucking object to be bargained off. I’m a person, goddammit.

Even my father is thrown off guard by Alexei’s declaration. “Y—yes,” he stammers and clears his throat. “Of course. Your Meghan.”

Someone inhales, then another cloud of smoke drifts into the hallway, giving this whole scene playing out in front of me a hazy, almost dream-like quality.

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Buying Beth Read online Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty (Disciples #3) http://www.wownovels.com/buying-beth-3-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Tue, 22 Jan 2019 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/buying-beth-3-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, Erotic, MC, Romance Authors: Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty Series: Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Buying Beth (Disciples #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Izzy Sweet	Sean Moriarty
Language:	English
Book Information:
I thought he bought me to save me… but he’s keeping me for himself. It was a girl’s night out gone wrong. Like some awful horror movie, my friends and I were grabbed in a dark parking lot and shoved into the back of a van. Coming from powerful families, we thought we were untouchable. We thought wrong. Our captors trapped us, violated us, and put us up for sale on the black market. Johnathan was sent to buy me so his boss, Lucifer, could have leverage over my father. He was supposed to save me, protect me, and return me. Not claim me and keep me for himself…
Books in Series:	Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
Books by Author:	Izzy Sweet Books	Sean Moriarty Books

1

Johnathan

September

It’s already in the fucking twenties right now in Neryungri, Russia. Back home in Garden City, it’s in the eighties to nineties. Not fucking here, though. No, right fucking here it’s cold and fucking wintery.

Fuck this country and these cold-ass fucking snow flurries.

I don’t like seeing snow in September, it’s just not right. The sky doesn’t look like it’s going to ease the fuck up, so it’s probably only going to get worse.

That’s my fucking luck so far on this little job. I’ve been in Russia for almost three weeks now. Trailing a sack of shit from one city to the next, then chasing him from town to town.

Little fucker has a sixth sense when it comes to trouble. I’m fucking certain he doesn’t know I’m after him, but he hasn’t stayed in one place long enough for me to get to his ass.

He knows he fucked up in Garden City by trying to help Ivan, the man who tried to take Andrew’s daughter, Abigail, and hurt Lucifer’s daughter, Evelyn. It’s been a madhouse full of rage for those two over the past few months. It’s been kill this man, and find this guy, for just about any Russian our guys could get a lead on.

Then the little evil prick that he is, Simon, gets a lead on Yuri Popov.

Yuri Popov is a shitstain of a human being. Just like Ivan, he never got his hands dirty. He just pushed money into the hands of the people who would. He’s a bit nastier than Ivan was, though. Ivan got all his money from his ruthless determination and his wife’s deep pockets.

Yuri got it peddling child porn.

When he had enough money over in Russia, he bought his disgusting way to America. Leaving his business behind, he started running drugs and slaves out of small border crossing towns down in Texas. He still has operations down there too, but he had to hightail it out of America when he got word of Ivan getting toasted.

That’s when our shitboy, Yuri, decided to head back home to the motherland.

Not that they are especially happy to have a child pornographer back. Still, he has the money and connections to run and hide for a good long while… except Simon and Lucifer aren’t going to allow it.

Looking back up to the sky one last time, I growl at it. This fucking cold weather.

Standing on top of the building ledge in this shitty little town, I can’t fathom why every building looks so uniform and block style. It must be the former communist way of building things, I guess.

There’s a roof access hatch beside me, and with the one piece of luck I’ve had this whole shitty trip, I was able to jimmy it open.

Two-thirty in the morning should be a good time to sneak in, but for the last twenty minutes, I’ve been listening to a man and his woman screaming at each other drunkenly over some shit I can’t figure out.

They’ve got five more minutes before I go in regardless.

The small camera I have inside of Yuri’s father’s apartment shows he passed out on the couch about two hours ago. Shithead took some pills and drank some cheapass vodka. He should be sufficiently out of it while I break in.

Five minutes later, I’ve finally figured out the couple fighting below me are screaming something about him stealing her cigarettes and her fucking his brother.

I’m pretty sure the fight isn’t going to end any time soon.

The live feed from Yuri’s apartment shows him still passed out. Pulling the black ski mask over my face, I then snap and check once more that the leather gloves on my hands are tight.

It’s go time.

Moving to the roof access, I lift it up as silently as possible. The woman wailing like a banshee as she protests her innocence helps a lot with covering the sound.

Moving down the ladder quickly, I have two doors to choose from, left or right. I avoid the door where all the screaming is come from and kneel before Yuri’s door.

Pulling out a small set of picks, I quickly unlatch the first lock then move up to the second one.

It’s a deadbolt, but there are ways to bypass these fuckers.

I push the door open just barely to test if the chain has been set. Pulling a pair of bolt cutters form my backpack, I snip the chain during an extended wail from the lady across the hall.

Opening the door quickly, I enter the living room and shut the door as quickly and quietly as I can.

Looking left, I spot Yuri still passed out on the couch, his chest rising and falling steadily. I watch for a moment to make sure I haven’t disturbed him before I take quick, quiet steps back to his father’s bedroom.

The door is open, and splayed out on the bed is an elderly old man.

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Stealing Amy Read online Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty (Disciples #2) http://www.wownovels.com/stealing-amy-2-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Wed, 05 Dec 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/stealing-amy-2-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Authors: Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty Series: Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
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Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Stealing Amy (Disciples #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Izzy Sweet	Sean Moriarty
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B071JP31ZF
Book Information:
They grabbed the wrong girl. They thought I was his wife, not the woman he’s obsessed with. Ivan Romanov is one of the Russian mafia’s biggest financial backers. And he’s been destroying my life piece by piece just to get me in his bed. I never wanted to be in this situation. Stalked. Cornered. Desperate. I was doomed. About to be forced by a powerful man who was willing to take what I didn’t want to give. Then he came, a demon in the dark. A dark voice that told me to be a good girl if I want to live…
Books in Series:	Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
Books by Author:	Izzy Sweet Books	Sean Moriarty Books

1

Andrew

Thump.

“I simply don’t understand it, Bart. You had everything in the palm of your hand…”

Thump.

My fist connects again with his body and this time it elicits a muffled screech. That tends to happen when someone’s kidneys have been hit hard enough. It’s strange, for such vital organs, the body sure didn’t keep them hidden inside somewhere safe.

The screams and screeches peter out until I slam my fist against the other kidney. If I was a gambling man, which I’m not, I would say that Bart would be pissing blood for a week if he wasn’t destined to die pretty soon.

“You were a part of the inner circle. You had your mouth on the golden teat! How the fuck could you betray Lucifer?” I ask.

Standing in front of Bart, I shake my head at him. His eyes are wide with terror, and if I’m not mistaken, he pissed himself recently.

“All you had to do was tell Lucifer the Japs had approached you. You could have told him they were trying to pay you off. You know for a fact he would have fixed you up. He always takes care of us!”

I don’t mean to scream that at the end, but Bart has to have known that.

Loyalties have been tested in the past with some of the guys, and every time Lucifer was there to make sure we followed him. To make sure we knew he was as loyal to us as we are to him.

The shrill sound of my phone ringing from my suit pocket stops me from swinging at his eyes. My fist is inches away from his nose when I stop myself.

I grin at him.

Wagging a finger in his eyes, I say, “Not just yet, be right back. You just hang out for me.”

I pull the phone out of the suit jacket I left hanging on the back of the shitty chair in this room. Everything in this shitty room is fucking way past its prime. Then again, if it wasn’t an abandoned old motel out in the middle of nowhere it wouldn’t be so shitty.

“This is Andrew.”

“Andrew, my friend!”

“Harrold, I was going to call you soon… How’re things going?”

“Busy, as you well know. Mr. Lucifer informed me you would be needing my services today. I wanted to see if you had a time frame…”

Winking at a terrified Bart, I say, “Can you meet me at the old motel in about an hour? I won’t be here much longer.”

“I will be there.”

“Thanks.”

Disconnecting the phone, I put it back in my pocket before I pull the forty-five pistol from my shoulder holster. Bart is shaking now, and that wet spot I saw earlier is growing larger by the second.

The distinct smell of shit erupts in the air as I walk up to Bart and push the barrel of the pistol against his stomach.

“It’s a shitty thing to know exactly how much more time you have left to live. To know you can’t change the certainty of your own death.”

Lowering the pistol towards his crotch, I pull the trigger.

The loud eruption of the gun in this small but tattered room deafens me. It’s a few moments before I’m able to hear his loud screams through the ball gag I have crammed in his mouth.

“You’re going to the afterlife a cockless bastard!” I roar over his screaming.

Aiming at his knee caps, I pull the trigger twice in rapid succession.

One in each knee cap.

The screaming continues for a few seconds before he passes out, his head slumping forward. Pain has a way of breaking everyone. He’s no different than any other pile of shit out there.

Not any more he isn’t.

Fucking little bitch is now one of the commoners. One of the fucking sheep out in the fucking herd that gets to die when the big bad fucking wolves tear his throat out.

There’s a code in this world, it’s an oath to each other that binds us. It’s there to make sure we have each other’s back, no matter what.

What he did… It’s just not done.

We are all hard, battle-tested men who want the most from our role in life. He just threatened that role. He removed himself from being above the common crowd and put himself down in the mud like the rest of the fucking pigs.

Rolling in filth and shit.

Sitting in the chair that my coat hangs on is the small black leather bag I brought into this shitty motel with me. It’s a fucking dump here, and I pray that I don’t get bugs from the shitty room.

Pulling a hypodermic needle out of the bag, I take the bottle of adrenaline out as well. I fill the syringe as I walk over to Bart.

Back when I was in the SEALs, I served as a medic. Normally, I would never pull someone from a blackout like this…. it fucks with the body and will probably hurt his heart and brain pretty bad.

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Keeping Lily Read online Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty (Disciples #1) http://www.wownovels.com/keeping-lily-1-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Tue, 02 Oct 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/keeping-lily-1-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Authors: Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty Series: Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Keeping Lily (Disciples #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Izzy Sweet	Sean Moriarty
Language:	English
Book Information:
My husband traded me away to save his own life… And now I belong to the devil. One night and everything in my life changed. Two words and my world turned dark. “Take her”. Owing the most ruthless crime lord in Garden City five million dollars, my husband chose to trade me and my children away to save himself. I was on the cusp of freedom, so close to divorcing that scumbag I was married to. Now I’m enslaved to a man who is obsessed with me. A man so wicked and beautiful, they call him Lucifer. So alluring, he makes the angels weep with envy. He’s so powerful, I can’t stop myself from bending to his will. He’s determined to master me, and he won’t rest until I give him all. He wants my light, and he wants my dark. He wants my body, and he wants my heart. But most of all, he wants the one thing I can’t give him. The one thing I can’t bear to part with…
Books in Series:	Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
Books by Author:	Izzy Sweet Books	Sean Moriarty Books

1

Lucifer

“Motherfucker!” Comes out of my mouth in a growl as I shake my hand.

The punch to this piece of shit’s jaw sent tingling sensations up my arm.

Mickey Dalton sputters gibberish out of his busted lips. “I… I… Swear I will pay… just gotta…”

I’m tempted to keep this up, but fuck it. I have bigger fish to fry than this small time fucking gambler.

Looking over the man’s shoulder, I nod to Andrew. “Ensure he fully understands how much he owes. Remove his pinky.”

“Yes, sir.” Andrew nods.

“Wha… No!” Mickey shouts as Andrew heads to the table where he keeps a black bag stowed.

Turning around, I look at Simon, my right-hand man. “Where are we at with the other three files?”

“Two have been collected on, the last I was waiting on your judgment.”

“Marshall Dawson.”

“He has flat out refused to cooperate with any of our attempts to collect. He believes his status is untouchable. He will give us no answer on where he was or what has happened to our money.”

“Is he finally home?” I ask.

“Arrived earlier tonight.”

A metallic snip rings out into the room followed by a high-pitched scream. I turn to see Andrew wiping the blood on the guy’s t-shirt.

Andrew raises his voice only slightly as he grabs the man by the throat. “Stop fucking squealing, asshole. Lucifer doesn’t like hearing pigs fucking about.”

Walking out through the door and into the hall, I look to Simon. “How are the spreadsheets with Bart coming along?”

“Clean, with everything accounted for…”

“Yet, you still have doubts?” I ask him as we walk.

“I do. I just can’t explain why.”

“Keep an eye on him then.”

Simon holds an umbrella over my head as we walk out of the abandoned hotel. The shattered glass door slams shut behind us as he ushers me into the sleek black Mercedes SUV.

Getting comfortable in the backseat, I reach over and pull the file left on the other seat for me. The name Marshall Dawson is neatly typed on the tab.

I let out a quiet sigh to myself. I knew this one was going to come back as a thorn in my side.

Marshall Dawson is a waste of breathable air. The man used the connections he had with my father and another city boss to secure a loan from us. Five million in cash.

Five fucking million dollars with nothing to show for it.

Five fucking million dollars down the drain.

I took this on as a favor to Sean O’Riley. A favor to a now dead and buried man.

Shit like that doesn’t sit well with me. But when I went to the top to seek retribution, I was stonewalled. I was told the man who killed Sean, and all the surrounding issues, have been dealt with.

Fuck that. I want my pound of flesh.

Shaking my head, I open the file. It’s no use going down that train of thought right now. I can pursue it another time if I need to.

I slowly flip through the pages we have on Marshall.

It’s funny how we can put a file together on a person where he is reduced to twenty or so pages. I can see every payment he has made on his mortgage to how many times he has been in the overdraft with his bank.

I look at his legal outstanding debts, and I look at the five-million-dollar debt he now owes to me personally. Anger is slowly creeping through my veins.

Flipping through the pages, I look at his family life. Since he borrowed the money I have had one of my men keeping close tabs on his family. He is married to Lilith Merriweather, aged twenty-seven, and has two children, a boy and a girl. Both children under the age of seven.

I look at the picture of Marshall for a long time as we drive through the late-night rain. The man is closer to my father’s age than mine. How did he marry a woman so young? Money and his slimy charm must have played a large part of it.

I look through the pictures of his family quickly. The children are pretty in a child way. Blonde hair and blue eyes, they must take after their mother. Marshall must have married way out of his league.

My fingers stop as the picture of his wife comes up. Emerald green eyes, sensuous pink lips, high cheekbones, pale flawless skin and long blonde hair. All of those parts on their own would make her remarkable. Even if her face was overall plain just one of her features would stun a person. But together they make something otherworldly.

She is beauty incarnate.

Fingers tracing the lines of her lips, I frown. How the hell did that man marry a woman like this? I flip further through the pictures of her. There aren’t many, but what I do see shows me that she is unlike any other woman I have ever laid eyes on.

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Breaking Meredith Read Online Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty (Disciples #4) http://www.wownovels.com/breaking-meredith-4-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Fri, 02 Jun 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/breaking-meredith-4-read-online-izzy-sweet-sean-moriarty Genre: Dark, Erotic, Romance Authors: Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty Series: Disciples Series by Izzy Sweet
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Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Breaking Meredith
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Izzy Sweet	Sean Moriarty
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07DV5QQ64
Book Information:
For five years - one thousand, nine hundred and twenty-two nights to be exact - I’ve watched her from afar… Protecting her. Keeping her safe from the world. And stalking her every move. What started as a favor for her brother has grown into something so much more. A full-blown obsession. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, unless I get my Meredith fix. Claiming her could start a war, and might very well result in my death. But she’s mine, she’s always been mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Books by Author:	Izzy Sweet Books	Sean Moriarty Books

Prologue

Meredith

One week before Christmas

The cool Mediterranean breeze pulls at my hair, causing my curls to slap at my shoulders and lick at my face. I grip the railing of Ahmed’s luxury yacht as I stare at the dark waters of the sea with a growing sense of unease.

Something has gone wrong in the game I’m playing, and everything is about to come back and bite me in the ass.

Behind me, Ahmed speaks quietly in Arabic to our steward. He thinks I don’t understand, but I’ve made it a point to learn some of the language.

He’s dismissing the steward with instructions for the crew not to bother us, regardless of what they may see or hear.

Ice floods my veins, but I can’t let my fear rule me. If I have any hope of making it out of this little spur-of-the-moment ‘pleasure cruise’ unscathed, I need to keep my wits about me.

“Meredith,” Ahmed says, his voice firm. The tone is something he usually reserves for those he considers beneath him, and I’ve been hearing a lot of it today.

I don’t know what has brought about this change, and it’s extremely concerning.

“Come, have a drink with me.”

I can’t disobey.

Slipping my mask back into place, I relax my lips and fix a serene look on my face as I turn to face him.

Walking towards him across the deck, the breeze whips at the skirt of my flowy dress as I force myself to imagine that I love him, that he’s handsome. That he’s everything I want in a man and not everything I actually despise… so that warm affection fills my eyes.

Ahmed extends a flute of sparkling champagne towards me while his dark eyes roam critically over me.

Shit. I don’t think he’s buying it.

Fingers wrapping around the flute, I bring it up to my lips and sip from it. The sweet liquid fizzles and pops across my tongue before sliding down my throat.

I drink just enough to settle my nerves and appease him. The last thing I need right now is to have alcohol muddling up my thought processes.

Ahmed’s eyes never leave me as he lifts his own flute and drinks deeply from it. In his own words, he’s a ‘bad Muslim’. When he leaves the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, he likes to indulge in all the vices the world has to offer.

Alcohol. Pork. Gambling.

Beautiful women.

He has admitted that his vices have caused him to fall out of favor with his family, but it hasn’t stopped him. A prince of significant power and financial means, he’s not about to let a little thing like familial favor hold him back. No, he enjoys having the world at his feet too much.

It’s what drew me to him in the first place.

For the past several weeks, I’ve been stringing him along. Slowly weaving my web around him while he’s been playing the game completely unaware.

But something changed today. Something has happened without my knowledge and tipped him off.

And I can’t figure out what.

My performance has been flawless. Everything has been progressing as it should. There’s still several weeks left to go before I move in for ‘the kill’, so to say.

Ahmed sets his empty glass down on the table and grabs me by the arm. He’s draws me closer and plucks my glass from my hand.

Setting my glass down, his eyes never leave my face. They search me, probe at me, as if he’s trying to see the things I don’t want him to see.

Things such as my true revulsion for him. For his kind. And his nationality has nothing to do with it. He’s just another man with too much money, too much power, and he’s long overdue for someone like me to knock him down a few notches.

If anything, the fact that he’s a prince only makes his fall sweeter.

Men like him, like my stepbrother, think just because they’re rich and powerful, they can get away with anything.

Get away with lies. Infidelities. Murder.

It took me a few years to find my place in this world, but now that I have I relish in it. Growing up pampered to an excess, I have no true skills. I found higher education tedious. The hours spent studying was pointless. A waste of my life. There are so many figures in my bank account, what is the point of work? To prove I have some value beyond my looks?

I don’t hunger for power. No, it’s quite the opposite. I’d prefer to be without it. Power brings too many headaches and responsibilities. And it’s a constant struggle to keep a grip on it. There’s always someone waiting around the corner, someone like me, ready to knock you down.

So what is left?

Socializing? Boring. Treat life as one long luxury vacation? Been there, done that. It’s not as fun as it sounds. Help the poor and downtrodden? With what skills? I could donate all my money, but then where would that leave me?

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B07DV5QQ64