Sinners Anonymous (Sinners Anonymous, #1)

by Somme Sketcher

It’s the cries on the other end of the scale that make me want to dive in the dirt with the dead.

“I thought he died from a bleed on the brain?” “He did. I shot him in the head and then his brain bled.”

Because I know the old adage: from the deepest desire comes the deadliest hate.

Angelo Visconti isn’t a knight in shining armor, he’s a monster in an Armani suit.

“Out of all my sins, you’re my favorite.”

It looks like a choking hazard.