To Jennifer Gibson, critique partner extraordinaire and the woman who literally keeps me sane, I don’t have words to express how much it means to me to have you in my life. I can’t wait for the day I get to hug you in person. Thanks for loving these characters and this world as much as me and for helping to keep me on the right track.
A big shout out to Siobhan’s Elite, my street team on Facebook. You ladies rock BIG-TIME. I’m so grateful to have you all in my corner. Thank you for your wonderful support and for being one of the nicest group of ladies I’ve had the pleasure to meet online. Massive thanks to Christina Santos, your fearless leader and a woman I’m proud to have by my side as I navigate the constantly changing indie romance community. I couldn’t do it without you, Christina, and I’m so grateful for everything you do to help promote me and my books. Most of all, I’m grateful for your loyal friendship.
I’d also like to thank all the admins and members of Siobhan’s Squad and The Sainthood Spoiler Group. It’s my happy place on FB, and I love interacting with so many encouraging, enthusiastic readers. You have no idea how much your thoughtful comments and posts cheer me up on difficult days. Your love for this series has bowled me over, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.
To all my author friends, thank you so much for your support and encouragement, and it’s wonderful to be surrounded by so many like-minded people who enjoy building their fellow authors up instead of tearing them down. A special mention to my besties, Susan Alexander, Shantel Tessier, Dee Kelly, Lianne Cotton, and Coralee June. Love you ladies. Big hugs.
MASSIVE THANKS TO YOU, dear reader! Without readers like you, I wouldn’t have the career of my dreams. I NEVER forget that. I look forward to entertaining you for many more years to come.
I couldn’t do this without the love and support of my family, most notably my husband Trevor and my sons, Cian and Callum. You are my world, and it’s all for you.
AN AMAZON TOP 25 BESTSELLER
In the power struggle between two elite groups, one feisty girl will bring them to their knees…
Life is a cruel game where only the most ruthless survive. It’s a truth my mother rebelled against, and she paid for it with her life. Now, I play their game. Publicly accepting the destiny that lies in wait for me when I turn eighteen.
But, behind closed doors, I plot my escape.
Trent, Charlie, and my twin, Drew, rule the hallways of Rydeville High with arrogance and an iron fist. I execute my role perfectly, hating every second, but they never let me forget my place in this world.
Everyone obeys the rules. They have for generations. Because our families have always been in control.
Until Cam, Sawyer, and Jackson show up. Throwing their new money around. Challenging the status quo. Setting hearts racing with their gorgeous faces, hot bodies, and bad boy attitudes.
Battle lines are drawn. Sides are taken. And I’m trapped in the middle, because I made a mistake one fateful night when I gave my V-card to a stranger in a blatant F you to my fiancé.
I thought it was the one thing I owned. A precious memory to carry me through each dark day.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Because the stranger was Camden Marshall, leader of the new elite and my perpetual tormenter. He hates me with a passion unrivaled, and he won’t be the only one. Fire will rain down if the truth is revealed, threatening alliances, and the power struggle will turn vicious.
My life will hang in the balance.
But I’ll be ready, and I’m not going down without a fight.
AVAILABLE NOW IN EBOOK, PAPERBACK, AND AUDIOBOOK FORMATS. CHECK YOUR LOCAL AMAZON STORE.
CRUEL INTENTIONS SAMPLE
PROLOGUE
WAVES CRASH AGAINST the empty shore, summoning me with invisible arms, and my feet move toward the icy water as if I’m pulled by a string. I’m numb inside. Hollowed out. And I just want to put an end to this… charade that is my so-called life.
I never remember a time in my seventeen years on this earth where I had free will. Where every aspect of my life wasn’t controlled and mapped out.
And I’m done.
Done with the mask I’ve no choice but to wear.
Done with the elite crap I’m forced to participate in.
Done with that monster who calls himself my father.
I want out, and the turbulent sea offers me salvation. I scarcely feel the deathly cold water as it swirls around my ankles like the tempting caress of a destructive lover. My silk robe offers little protection against the bitter wind whipping my long dark hair around my face, and goose bumps prickle my skin in everyplace it’s exposed.
I walk farther into the water, my body shivering and shaking as the wild waves lap at my calves. An eerie voice echoes in my mind, urging me to stop.
Imploring me to go back.
Pleading with me not to give up.
Suggesting my world is about to change.
I ignore that taunting voice, tilting my head up, surveying the crescent moon in the dark nighttime sky, casting strangely shaped shadows on the land below. My ears prick at the sound of splashing behind me, and my heart beats faster as adrenaline courses through my veins, but I don’t turn around.
“Hey. Are you okay?” a deep masculine voice asks from close by.
I’m standing knee-deep in icy-cold water in the middle of the night in minuscule clothing. Does it fucking look like I’m okay? My snarky alter ego mentally responds to his question, but I remain mute. I can’t summon the energy to speak or to care what the stranger thinks of me.
I just want him to go away. To leave me alone. To at least give me this.
But no such luck.
He wades through the water, his darkened form brushing against my arm as he moves around me, positioning himself directly in my line of sight so I’ve no choice but to look at him.
A flicker of warmth enters my chest as I stare into sultry brown eyes that are so deep they’re almost black. The glow from the moon casts a shadow around his form, highlighting his masculine beauty in all its glory. He’s wearing low-hanging cotton shorts and nothing else. His bare chest is an impressive work of art that speaks to incredible dedication in the gym. His cut abs are so sharp they look painted on. But it’s the tattoos on his chest and lower arms that grab my attention. None of the guys at Rydeville High would dare ink their skin. It wouldn’t fit the reputations they’ve so carefully cultivated or suit their obnoxious parents’ plans for their futures. The elite wouldn’t dream of lowering themselves to something so provincial.
This guy is an enigma, and the first sparks of curiosity ignite inside me.
My eyes trail up his delectable torso, refocusing on his face. He’s watching me carefully. Absorbing my gaze like he wants to bury deep inside me and figure me out. My fingers itch to run along the fine layer of scruff adorning his chin and jawline. To mess up his hair which is styled long on top and shorn close to his skull on both sides. A craving to explore his chiseled cheekbones, and to taste his full lips, hits me out of nowhere, reminding me I’m still very much alive.
I can’t ever recall having such a strong, physical reaction to a guy upon sight. None of the guys back home have affected me so potently, except for Trent—he makes my skin crawl with the barest of looks—but this is the complete opposite.