King of Iron Hearts Read online Giana Darling

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 16682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

King of Iron Hearts

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Giana Darling

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
9781774440025
Book Information:

The King of Iron Hearts
Is a fable now
A tale they tell children
About a man made of metal
Whose heart burned so boldly
It melted him from the inside out
This is a book about a man who feels too much and the woman who loves him. Divided into four parts, it explores the journey he takes from a young man with a wild, restless soul that yearns for something more to the wise man who understands the intricacies of love and loss. The last part shifts to the point of view of his woman to witness their love story from both angles.
*This can be read as a stand-alone book of poetry, but it does tie into Lessons in Corruption (The Fallen Men, #1) and After the Fall (The Fallen Men, #4), two books in a series of stand-alone romance novels.*
Books by Author:

Giana Darling



Welcome to the Dark Side

Where the good go bad

And the only lessons they teach

Are those in corruption

The devil is a gentleman

How else do you think

He lured all those

Sinning souls

To hell?

People don’t talk enough about devils

With their silver tongues

How the greatest sin they commit

Is that thing they do

With their precious metal mouths

I was born to the demons that hounded me.

They wanted my submission to their corruption like blood ink on paper signed with my name.

I could have run,

But where is the power in that?

Instead, I became a demon myself in order to master them all.

Own your demons.

The devil wasn’t horns and talons

Brimstone and ash.

He was golden and gorgeous

Sinning and sex.

And I was his latest victim.

My mother thought I was a waste of space

In her womb

And the thought didn’t improve when I was born.

My father thought I was a prince and raised me to be

King.

He had faith in everything I did.

My best friend didn’t speak with words

But everything he ever told me

With his eyes and his actions

Taught me I was worthy of love.

My sister told me once that our mother

Educated her in self-hatred

And steeped her deep in eternal doubt

Because if a mother can’t love her child

Doesn’t that make her right?

Why is it that the negative words of one

Can so easily outweigh the good of every other?

A lion will never be a pet.

You can put a collar on it,

Lock it up at night,

And call it pretty as much as you

Want.

But the real animal is you,

For caging something that was meant to be

Free.

Break up with your boyfriend.

My father taught me with his fists

My mother with her heavy sighs

My uncle took me to church

Where he taught me everything I should despise

My father hit me to keep me silent

My mother didn’t notice he was violent

My uncle made me one of the choir boys

Whom I discovered were all his toys

What happens when you are told to respect your elders, but they never show any respect for you?

Sometimes there is a two-way mirror

Between you

And the rest.

Every day you watch the others live their lives

Talk, laugh, and touch

A unit

A family

An entire world

But

Behind the glass

You are alone

Always

Acutely unseen.

Family isn’t in the blood

It’s the echo of each name

That sounds with the beat of your heart.

Brother,

You will never truly die

Because

Brother,

I wear your friendship on my vest

Like a badge

Brother,

When you went

I thought about going with you

But brother,

I knew you wouldn’t want me

Brother,

I knew wherever you were

Heaven, Hell, or Valhalla

You were saving me a seat beside you

When the time came for me to join you

Brotherhood

Is made by blood, sweat, and spit

Forged in the fire of shared adversity

Strong as titanium

Common as iron

Man-made

An awkward hug that lasts too long

A secret handshake full of history

A ride side by side connected by the wind

Man-held

the respect of brothers

the tightly knotted weave of friendship

something more than family

something beautiful that only exists between

Man to man

It’s the balance she craves.

The soft core under immovable steel

The rough against the slide of silk skin

The coarse voice speaking in dulcet tones

A woman wants a man like a weapon

That could never be turned against her

One only she can wield

When she needs that strength to be her sword

And his love her shield

I just like being bad

The guy people don’t get

The one they want to fuck

The one they don’t want to fight

And the one you just can’t kill

I just like being bad

A man with the road beneath his bike

And the taste of whiskey on his breath

The one who kisses like he brawls

Who walks with a ‘I gotta secret’ kinda swagger

I just like being bad

But more than that, I like being bad for you

My good girl with a taste for something wild

You can suck the danger from my lips

While I keep you safe in my arms

Because no one fucks with you

Not even me

How the bad boy gets the girl.

I’ve been a cowboy my whole life

Workin’ to wrangle

A soul so wild

It bucks against the red ropes that bind it

Knocks into the bone bars that cage it

I’ve been keepin’ it steady for so many years

Just waitin’ for you to walk on by

And bring it to heel with the swish of your hair

And the sight of your smile.

Behind her ears

The gentle slope of her neck

The underside of her jaw

I want to know how she tastes

But I am already convinced

She tastes like cherries

There was nothing gentle in her beauty

Nothing soft or romantic

She was an exclamation mark

The study of her exquisiteness punctuated by

A punch to the solar plexus

A different kind of pretty.

Sometimes a wild soul

Doesn’t yearn for open fields

It wants strong hands and stern words

To break under hard rules

Until the restless chaos in their hearts is soothed

Their loud spirit is quiet

And for a moment, blissfully at peace.

The art of Domination and submission.

Sometimes I catch my daughter watching the animal channel, her hands curled into claws and her lips pulled back to reveal tiny teeth. She growls sometimes, but nothing prepares me for the eventual ferocity of her roar.

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