DEAR READER
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- Parts 1
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Dear Reader,
I do not like you. It is not my job to like you. It is my job to please you - they are not the same. It is a job self-imposed, one that's payment is all made up, one that's sometimes worth it and sometimes the metaphorical equivalent of sludging through mud.
I do not like you. You are a symbolic of the agenda I inforce onto myself and you are the motivation to continue. You like what I produce and I suppose I value that
I do not like you, dear Reader.
Chaos ensues. Chaos loves to ensue, it always does. It loves to wrap around the Reader, the Writer and everything in between and it likes to wriggle the brain and make itself a home.
Do not let chaos fool you - do not let me fool you
Life is not interesting to you because you are not the universe's Main Character.
Nothing I say here will have any weight unless you treat it like it does - and are my words not as light as a feather, Reader? I see a world filled with hate and war and I do not turn my cheek to the other side as much as shove my face into the first. One might condemn apathy and one will be right to - but I am too apathetic to care.
I do not like you. It is a fact that conditions you not to like me, either.
With disrespect and appreciation and every fick
All Rights Reserved
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It just felt right because It was unnecessary drama.
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When Ivy Lancaster, a young and successful publisher, saves a family farm in an old rundown town, her life is flipped on its axis. Her charity puts her on the radar of the man who runs all of Sin Sity. His gang has had the city on lockdown for years, and he's at the heart of it all. And now, she's been pulled into this life too. One she never expected. The one she'd only read about in books. Alongside him and his bestfriend, she'll have to learn how to survive this new life she's been pulled into. Or go back to the mundane, calm life at her desk. And she's not sure which is worse. **** I know I shouldn't. I know I should be disgusted by the thought of his hands on me. He is a killer. He's psychotic. He's forcing me to be here. And yet, I can't make myself pull away. I can't tell him to stop. Sin's fingers dip lower, playing with the lace barely covering my skin. I throw my head back against his chest, his gun still digging into my back. My eyes catching Arrows again. He hasn't moved. But his fists clench at his sides. And I wonder what it would feel like to have him pressed against my front with Sin at my back. God, what the fuck, Ivy? Why am I letting this happen? "I know you're wet for me, baby girl." Sin murmurs into my ear. "Wet for us." 'Fuck, I'm screwed' I think as Sin's fingers slip under my panties.
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