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260 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 19, 2016
















["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>“always you. only you, ronan.”

“Shhh, Ronan,” I whisper. “It’s okay. Just look at me. Only me.” To everyone’s surprise, my words seem to soothe him. So I keep repeating them, stroking his face beneath my fingers. He never takes his eyes off me.
“Do you trust me?” I ask him. He nods. “Okay, good,” I whisper.
“Because I would never let anyone hurt you. Do you know that?”
I don’t know anything other than that it’s always been her, from the moment I saw her three years ago. She’s the thing that I’ve yearned for more than anything else. And for that reason, she’s the thing I can never have. I cannot control my urges. My instincts.
But I can be anything they want me to be when I’m up on that stage. A saint or a sinner. The girl next door or the one on the street corner. The only thing I can’t be is myself.
Because that girl disappeared a long time ago, and I couldn’t even begin to tell you who she is anymore. That’s the problem with lies. Eventually they start to feel real. Eventually, you start to believe them too.

We’re a symphony of madness. Dark thirsts and wild obsession. My love for him burns hotter than the sun. It’s sappy. It’s fucked up. And more than anything, it’s real.

“Party’s over,” he says. “You’ll be going home now.”
“Like hell I will,” I argue. “You don’t get to decide that. Or who I talk to either.” “You were smiling at him,” he accuses.
“So frigging what?” I retort. “We were just talking. At least someone around here knows how to use his vocabulary.”

I’ve never believed in fairytales. There is no white knight in my story. Only me. And I’m not the girl who gets the prince. I’m the girl he bangs because he can.

I’ve been called a sociopath. A monster. But I don’t fancy myself one. I’m simply a man doing a job that needs to be done. If it wasn’t me doing it, someone else would be. The men that I kill, they’ve all had it coming. They knew what they were getting themselves into. They’ve either done Niall wrong or threatened the syndicate in some way. And threats have to be eliminated, just like vermin. One of the few moral codes I still abide by. I will protect my brethren at all costs.

Damaged souls have their own beauty. A dark, terrifying beauty. The same type of beauty I recognize in Ronan.

He nudges my legs apart and pushes his palm between my legs like he owns that part of me. Who am I to argue? He does fucking own me. He's polluted my mind so that I can only ever think of him. Only ever want him.
I’ve seen him kill. I’ve tasted his rage too. Tasted it so fiercely that some of it spilled over onto me, tainting me with the mark of the animal that lives inside of him. I crave that animal. I crave everything about this man with his perfect suits and his complete lack of human emotions. Maybe, just maybe, I envy him too. What it must be like not to feel anything. Anything at all.
Nobody else gets to see you like that,” he declares. “Ye're claimed.” His words douse me in gasoline. His eyes light the match. And when he grinds himself against me, all that's left to do is burn for him.




"Damaged souls have their own beauty. A dark, terrifying beauty. The same type of beauty I recognize in Ronan. He isn't like those those other men. The ones who tell me how much they want my body. The filthy things they want to do to me."















My dark prince. The reaper. The man who spilled blood for me without pause. For that reason alone he'll always be on a pedestal that no other can reach. He'll always be the memory I revisit in my darkest of times.
Don't fall asleep little fella," he says. "Or you'll never wake up again."



My heart flat lined long ago. Keeping myself locked in this void is easy.And then, 11 sentences (I counted) later she says:
His cheeks flush pink every time I look his way, and then his jaw strains with the force of his anger. It makes me want him in ways I shouldn’t. It makes my heart stop and start every time he walks into the room. Like a rusty old engine, I’m in disrepair, and I feel like this stranger is the only mechanic for the job.
"This man is a fortress in his own right."


"My love for him burns hotter than the sun."Told in dual POV, Reaper is my absolute favorite type of read. With a perfect blend of action, passion, romance, and grit, the characters captivated me through each and every moment. The brotherhood of the Irish Mob is strong and these men will do anything to protect their women. The plot is expertly crafted as the horrific events are retold through Ronan and Sasha's flashbacks from the past. The tempo of the read is fast and furious as these two cannot get enough of each other.










