Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Give Me the Bad Boy:
A Darker Romance Collection
Affliction
Cameron Ashton reined over the gritty underworld, the danger and violence of depravity, from his throne. A pistol was his sword, and apathy was his second-in-command. I know he was dangerous, know he would break me and not think twice. But he was my only chance, the only way I'd survive.
He was possessive and controlling, claiming he owns me. And he does ... every part of me. The darkness in him ran stronger, deeper than it ever had in me. Maybe we’re not so different? Maybe giving up my control to Cameron, giving him my very soul, made me the powerful one?
Maybe, in the end, I'd be the one who owned him.
Matched to the Mafia
I wasn't a good man. Not by society standards, and certainly not by the bare minimum. When people heard my name—Enzo Santini—it wrought fear and respect.
I did horrible, violent things, all in the name of power, all because I was the Capo of the Los Angeles Italian crime syndicate known as The Family.
The mafia.
But the first time I saw Bianca Alfonso, the gorgeous and curvy secretary for Seeking Curves—the matchmaking company The Family had a business hand in—I knew one thing for certain.
She’d be mine.
Stalk Her
As president of The Devil’s Right Hand MC, I could get whatever I wanted.
Drugs, women, money, but most of all power.
I ran my club with an iron fist, and what we did wasn’t exactly legal, but then again the kind of money we wanted, you didn’t get by following the rules.
But then she came into my life—this sweet, fresh, and pretty young thing working at one of the bars the MC owned. I should’ve stayed away, should’ve kept my distance, because she was a liability and a distraction I sure as hell didn’t need.
AFFLICTION
By Jenika Snow
Photo provided by: Adobe Stock
Cover Designer: Designs by Dana
Editor: Kasi Alexander
Line Editor: Lea Ann Schafer
It wasn’t until Cameron that I knew what real darkness was…or that I’d crave it so much.
I’d let the world weigh down on me; pull me under until nothing made sense anymore. Maybe that’s how I let myself get into the mess I was currently in? Maybe that’s how I was in my current situation with a man I knew could save me from a fate worse than death. Even if being with Cameron, giving him the very part of me, the only part that was worth anything—my body—might very well ruin me, I had to survive.
Drug lord. Crime Boss. Murderer. I should fear him, be horrified by what he wants from me, by who he was. But instead, I find myself wanting to please him, wanting to give myself over completely.
Because I know that gave me control over him.
Cameron Ashton reined over the gritty underworld, the danger and violence of depravity, from his throne. A pistol was his sword, and apathy was his second-in-command. I know he was dangerous, know he would break me and not think twice. But he was my only chance, the only way I'd survive.
He was possessive and controlling, claiming he owns me. And he does ... every part of me. The darkness in him ran stronger, deeper than it ever had in me. Maybe we’re not so different? Maybe giving up my control to Cameron, giving him my very soul, made me the powerful one?
Maybe, in the end, I'd be the one who owned him.
Warning: There may be subject matter and triggers that are sensitive to some readers. In the end, this IS a romance, albeit not a traditional one.
Chapter
One
The sweat running down the valley between my breasts was like fingers moving along me. I was hot, my body flushed, my heart racing. Everything in me felt alive, ready to tear through my skin like another entity wanting to escape.
I was drunk, and I felt incredible.
The bodies pressed tightly against me, moving sexually, suggestively, made me feel even better. It made me feel alive. I moved with them, swaying to the music, inhaling the scent of sex and alcohol that seemed to surround me. I was sure a lot of people would be fucking tonight. No doubt it would be dirty, their inhibitions having been left at the club as they took home a random person. It would be the kind of sex that drunk people had, sloppy, carefree.
I wasn’t a good girl.
I didn’t even feel like the girl they called Sofia.
I didn’t follow the rules. And my life was less than memorable. I lived like today was my last, because for all I knew it would be. It could be.
I came to this club when I couldn’t stand the box that was my life, the one that was sealed tight, no airholes, no light getting through the crack. I got wasted, danced until my body was covered with sweat, my muscles sore, and some poor, hard-up frat guy got off in his jeans by grinding against my leg. I was a wreck in many ways, and I had no doubt that people assumed I was slutty by the way I dressed, by the way I moved on the dance floor.