Bad Saint by Monica James
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Just WOW!!! Where has Monica James been hiding all my life? I finally met this author’s words and again WOW. I was BLOWN AWAY by this author’s superb story-telling. BAD SAINT is a book I dove into blindly, but one that became my drug. I was ENAMORED from the first page—UTTERLY CONSUMED with every word that I devoured like crack. I couldn’t get enough hits of this heady and heart-pounding delight.
Two broken hearts longing to be whole.
Two souls that are dead apart but alive together.
Two soulmates fighting for freedom, hand-in-hand, as they battle demons through the darkness.
Willow and Saint, angel and devil who must battle hell together.
Saint and Willows’ chemistry is UNDENIABLE. One look is all it takes for their electricity to detonate. I felt it through the pages, this combustible chemistry that MELTED ME.
“You belong to me, and you hate yourself for it.”
Deliciously dark, pulse-pounding, and sinfully sexy, Bad Saint is an adrenaline rush from beginning to end. A irresistibly riveting roller coaster ride of tantalizing tension, terrifying thrills and touching tenderness that’s the sweetest torture. A can’t-put-it down delight that will leave you aching for more.
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 deliciously dark stars
I was kidnapped on my honeymoon by three masked men.
I was told to stay silent and abide by their rules. But they didn’t realize I wasn’t a victim…not anymore.
The open sea was my backdrop for nine torturous days. During that time, glimmers of my fate were revealed by a man with the mysterious chartreuse-colored eyes. He should have scared me, but he didn’t.
He intrigued me. And I intrigued him.
He punished me when I didn’t listen, which was every single day. But beneath his cruelty, I sensed he was guarding a grave secret.
I was sold.
And in a game of poker, no less.
My buyer? A Russian mobster who likes to collect pretty things. Now that I know the truth, I only have one choice.
Sink or swim.
And when one fateful night presents me the opportunity, I take it. I just never anticipated my actions would leave me shipwrecked with my kidnapper.
He needs me alive. I want him dead.
But as days turn into weeks, one thing becomes clear—I should hate him…but I don’t.
My name is Willow.
His name is Saint.
Ironic, isn’t it? He bears a name that denotes nothing but holiness yet delivers nothing but hell. However, if this is hell on earth…God, save my soul.