St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Fri, 20 Jan 2023 22:16:55 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 The Hatesick Diaries (St. Mary’s Rebels #5) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-hatesick-diaries-st-marys-rebels-5-read-online-saffron-a-kent Sun, 15 Jan 2023 19:18:36 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-hatesick-diaries-st-marys-rebels-5-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports, Virgin Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >185

vEcho Adler hates Reign Davidson. He’s the reason the love of her life left her all alone and broken hearted two years ago.

So it should be easy to stay away.

It should be easy to not dream about his dark and mean eyes, or his cruel but sexy smirks. It should be easy to not think about the guy who ruined her happily ever after.

Only it’s not.

Sometimes his intense stares make her heart race, and those smirks of his make her breathless.

But it needs to stop.

Because she has a mission: to get back together with her ex-boyfriend. And Echo will be damned if she keeps dreaming about Reign.

The guy who not only makes her sick with hate but who also happens to be her ex’s best friend.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Six years ago. Bardstown

He’s a criminal.

He has to be.

First, he’s wearing all black: black jeans and a black hoodie with the hood up. In summer, no less.

And second, he’s very carefully and cautiously laying out a string on the ground.

It’s a very long string too.

It at least circles around the thick bushes that border this massive back yard, and goes well into the woods behind that back yard. Where I’m currently standing behind the thick trunk of a tree and watching him secretly.

Or more like watching his back, because he’s facing away from me, walking backward.

When he’s come far enough I guess, he stops and kneels on the ground, completely blocking my view.

I can’t see what he’s doing.

Why he’s bent over that string.

Whatever it is though, it can’t be good.

It might even be dangerous.

The prudent thing to do — prudent means practical; also known as feasible, realistic, sensible, matter of fact — is to turn around and run. To get away from him. Especially when no one knows that I’m here, wandering around the woods in the middle of the night, and not up in my bedroom, sleeping like I should be.

In my defense, tonight is special.

Plus I couldn’t sleep in my new bed, in the new house, in a new place.

We — my parents and I — only arrived here last week, see.

Both of them got a new job and so we packed up and left our old apartment in Brooklyn and came to Bardstown to start a new life. As opposed to Brooklyn, everything is super open here: our big two-story house; these woods that I’m taking an impromptu walk in; the back yard beyond it, the giant manor beyond the back yard.

But I’m not going to lie, I miss Brooklyn. I miss my friends, my old school, even our old rundown apartment that had more leaks and squeaky floorboards than not. But it’s okay. My mom always says that you make sacrifices for people you love. That this is what love is.

To compromise. To make adjustments and to be good to the people you love.

So I’m happy as long as my parents are happy.

Except for this.

I’m not happy about this, whatever it is that this boy is doing.

I mean, if he’s really doing something bad then shouldn’t I confront him? Shouldn’t I stop him? I’m new here, yes, but these are my woods now. This is my house, my property and estate.

Well, not technically.

We only live here, but…

“I know you’re there.”

My thoughts come to a screeching halt at those words.

His words.

He said them, right?

Yes, he did.

Even though he hasn’t turned around or stopped doing whatever it is that he’s doing.

What is he doing though?

“I can hear you fucking thinking from over there.”

This time, I have no confusion as to who spoke because his shoulders tense up and his arms jerk, as if his entire body is speaking along with his lips.

Or more like snapping at me.

Which gets my back up and I dig my fingers into the trunk. “I’m not fucking thinking.”

At this, he finally stops and straightens up, cocking his head to the side slightly as if paying attention to me. The only thing he doesn’t do is turn around as he says, “What?”

I know he can’t see me but still I lift my chin as I reply, “I’m just thinking. Period. No fucking.”

Okay, that sounded so much better and smarter in my head, I swear.

Also, not funny.

But apparently it is because it makes him chuckle in response, his shoulders moving again.

And this time I notice that they’re broad.

Probably because he’s straightened up now and isn’t hunched over that string of his. In fact, his shoulders are broader than any guy’s shoulders in my class, either at my old school or the new.

“No fucking, huh,” he drawls. “Well, there’s a lot to unpack there, in that statement. But I don’t think you wanna go there.” I frown as to what he means but he keeps going. “So instead, why don’t you tell me what you’re just thinking about?”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >185

Advertisement
Hey, Mister Marshall (St. Mary’s Rebels #4) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.ilovenovels.com/hey-mister-marshall-st-marys-rebels-4-read-online-saffron-a-kent Sat, 18 Jun 2022 16:14:25 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/hey-mister-marshall-st-marys-rebels-4-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Forbidden, Romance, Taboo, Virgin Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 188957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >187

Read Online Books/Novels:	Hey, Mister Marshall (St. Mary’s Rebels #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Saffron A. Kent
Language:	English
Book Information:
At eighteen, Poe Blyton’s life is in shambles and the reason is Alaric Marshall. After her mom’s death, he appeared out of nowhere and became Poe’s controlling guardian. When she protested his tyranny, he had the audacity to send her away to an all-girls reform school. A school full of iron clad rules and regulations. But at least she’s graduating soon. Until Alaric himself arrives at the school as the new principal and takes that away from her as well. That devil. He’s really asking for it, isn’t he? And Poe is going to give it to him. It doesn’t matter that her sworn enemy has the prettiest dark eyes she’s ever seen. Or that he looks really, really good in his boring tweed jackets. So much so that she wants to rip them off his body and see what’s underneath. Because scorching hot or not, her new principal or not, Poe is going to ruin Alaric’s life. NOTE - This is a STANDALONE set in the world of St. Mary's......St. Mary’s Rebels #4
Books in Series:	St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Books by Author:	Saffron A. Kent

Pinterest Boards

Alaric & Poe

St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers

For every troublemaking, chaotic and wild soul out there. May you find peace in your complexity. And for my husband, who loves all parts of me, troubled and otherwise.

(n; as defined in the dictionary)

One who causes mischief or difficulties

Synonyms: Rabble-rouser, mischief-maker and Poe Austen Blyton

(n; as defined by Poe and not the dictionary)

History expert; or, a scholar who studies the Renaissance era and wears tweed jackets with elbow patches

Synonyms: Alaric Rule Marshall

If there is one thing I know how to do well it is to plot.

I know how to make a plan. How to work out the details.

How to align all the stars and fit all the moving pieces together.

Which means it’s going to be a very bad day for him.

My victim.

Well, victim sounds sort of ominous. Murderous even.

I promise I’m not going to kill him.

I’m only going to make him wish that he were dead. Or at least wish that he’d never heard my name or allowed me to set foot in his mansion.

In his very stupid and ancient-looking mansion that’s been my home for the past week.

So here I stand, at the second story window, hiding behind the heavy cream-colored drapes as I keep watch over the looming wrought iron gates that mark the entrance of this massive property.

Waiting for him.

Black clouds are gathering up in the sky, and the very air seems hot and heavy, swollen, ready to burst open any second now. And just as lightning flashes across the sky, those hell gates open and I go on the alert.

A sleek black car enters and travels steadily, silently over the graveled pathway, right up to the marble steps where it comes to a stop. My heart thumps in my chest as I wait for my victim to emerge.

And when he does, I move too.

Because it’s showtime.

I collect everything that I need from the foot of my bed and walk out of my room, slowly and silently.

To listen.

Just when I hear a door slamming shut below indicating that he’s in place – in his study specifically; which is where he goes after he comes back from work – I take off.

I go down the stairs and turn left at the landing, rushing toward the kitchen.

Stopping at a storage room, I go inside. I find a stepladder and climb up to the vent. I pop the grill thingy out and hoist one of the things — a cage — that I brought with me and put it inside, before pulling up and getting inside myself. I crawl through the short space and when I reach another grill thingy, I stop and look through the slats.

Into the grand kitchen.

Usually it’s bustling with activity but right now, at seven in the evening, everyone has gone home.

Except Mo.

The head housekeeper with a mop of silver hair and a warm smile.

Who lives here and is currently busy warming up dinner for him.

For a second as I watch Mo, scooping out spaghetti and meatballs and pouring that creamy red sauce over them, I hesitate. What I have planned for him also involves Mo, and I like Mo.

Even though I’ve only known her for a week, I think Mo is cool.

She’s really gone out of her way to make me feel comfortable in this strange house and in this strange situation. The rest of the staff is nice too, if I’m being honest. But Mo has been the friendliest.

Unlike her master.

Who’s yet to have a conversation with me.

It’s okay though. I’m going to change that tonight.

Keeping my eyes on Mo, I fish out my phone from my jeans pocket and dial the home number; Mo had me program it into my cell for emergencies. The call connects and I hear the ring, both through my phone and in the hallway.

As expected, Mo puts the pasta away and goes out into the hallway to pick up the phone.

Because he never picks up the phone. Even when he’s home.

I guess he’s just too good to talk to people, isn’t he?

Fucking asshole.

But this time, it works out in my favor.

Muting the speaker, I leave the line open through which I can hear Mo’s voice. I pop open the grid thingy again, take the mouse out of the cage – the one I bought from one of my contacts in New York; yeah, I have sources – and dangle my arm out to simply let it go. Like a champ, it jumps out of my palm and lands on the counter. From there, it skitters away, choosing to stay stuck to the black and white vintage backsplash as it makes its way to the stove.

I quickly pop the grid back in and climb out of the duct. I peek my head out of the storage room to see that, annoyed, Mo has hung up the phone and is now walking back into the kitchen. Since the coast is clear, I get out of the storage room and run back the same way I came to take my position.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >187

Advertisement
These Thorn Kisses (St. Mary’s Rebels #3) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.ilovenovels.com/these-thorn-kisses-st-marys-rebels-3-read-online-saffron-a-kent Thu, 09 Dec 2021 07:26:52 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/these-thorn-kisses-st-marys-rebels-3-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Angst, Erotic, Forbidden, New Adult, Romance, Virgin Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 174
Estimated words: 173355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 693(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >174

Read Online Books/Novels:	These Thorn Kisses (St. Mary’s Rebels #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Saffron A. Kent
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B096735QY7
Book Information:
Eighteen-year-old, Bronwyn Littleton is in love with a stranger she met on a summer night a year ago. A stranger who was tall and broad in a way that made her feel safe. He had dark blue eyes that she can’t stop drawing in her sketch book. And he had a deep, soothing voice that she can’t stop hearing in her dreams. That’s all she knows about him though. Until she runs into him again. At St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers – an all girls reform school – where she’s trapped because of a little crime she committed in the name of her art. Now she knows that her dream man has a name: Conrad Thorne. She knows that his eyes are way bluer and way more beautiful than she thought. And that his face is an artist’s wonderland. But she also knows that Conrad is her best friend’s older brother. Which means he’s completely off-limits. Not to mention, he’s the new soccer coach, which makes him off-limits times two. What makes him off-limits times three however, and this whole scenario an epic tragedy, is that, Conrad, Wyn’s dream man, has a dream girl of his own. And he’s as much in love with his dream girl as Wyn is in love with him… NOTE: This is a STANDALONE set in the world of St. Mary’s.
Books in Series:	St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Books by Author:	Saffron A. Kent

Dream (n.):

A mosaic of thoughts, ideas and images that run through your mind while asleep.

Also, a goal or an ambition

Broken Dream (n.):

No such thing. Because dreams don’t break. They evolve and morph and grow as you grow. Dreams are what you make them.

There’s a man I’m staring at.

Let’s call him Mystery Man.

He’s tall. And broad.

In fact, he’s so tall and so broad that he’s bursting out of his clothes. He is.

The black suit that he’s wearing can barely contain him. It looks like his shoulders, muscular and so totally sculpted, will bust out of his suit jacket. And that chest which appears rock hard and cut will tear out of his white dress shirt.

That’s the first indication that he’s not from here.

Not the fact that he’s quite possibly the most built and athletic man I’ve ever seen in my short sixteen and a half years of life. But the fact that his suit is clearly ill-fitted and outdated.

Making me think that he doesn’t wear it often, or even if he does wear it, he doesn’t care about keeping up with the latest styles and fashions or the fact that his body is too large for it.

How fascinating.

To not care about such silly, superficial things.

Actually no. That’s not the most fascinating thing about him.

The most fascinating thing about this Mystery Man is his hair.

It’s long.

Well, long-ish.

It not only curls at the ends, brushing and grazing the collar of that outdated suit jacket, but it also falls over his forehead. Some strands are even hanging down to his brows. And then there are strands that flutter over the side of his face.

By this town’s standards, he totally needs a haircut and hair gel. A comb too, maybe.

And I so very much don’t want him to get any of those things because God, I’ve never seen hair like that. I might have seen a physique like his — although I doubt that; no one’s as tall or large as him where I come from — but not the hair.

I wish I could tell the exact color of his hair but he’s standing in such a dark, lonely corner of this spacious yet crowded ballroom that I can’t. I can’t even see his face very clearly. All I can see are lines that ride high in his cheekbones and angles that slant so beautifully in his jaw.

But whatever I can see has me utterly convinced that he is definitely, definitely not from Wuthering Garden, the town I live in. The town that I don’t really venture out of.

Because the towns surrounding our town are “beneath us.”

At least that’s what my mom says.

She says that those towns are full of poor, desperate, middle-class people who know nothing about our rich and fabulous ways. In fact, those people would do anything to learn our ways and be like us.

So we need to protect ourselves from them.

We need to stick to our town, to our people and to our posh society where people get regular haircuts and never ever wear anything last season.

So maybe I should just stand here, in my own dark and lonely corner which is very graciously doubling as a hiding spot, and not walk up to him.

I should probably not think about asking him his name or where he came from. Or what he’s doing here at this party.

Not to mention, why does it look like he’s not breathing?

I could be wrong about that though. About the not breathing part.

Because as I said I’m all the way over here, hidden between two potted plants, and he’s all the way over there, at almost the opposite end of the ballroom. But I swear to God, I haven’t seen him move once in the past ten minutes that I’ve been watching him.

I haven’t seen him reach for a drink when the waiter passed by or nod at any of the people who have walked by him and actually paused to throw him a second look. I have a feeling that it wasn’t because he looks like he doesn’t belong here but because of how rugged and interesting he is.

Because mostly who did pause and give him a second look were women. Mothers of some of my classmates even.

But anyway, it’s none of my business why he appears so deathly still or what exactly is the color of his hair. I should just stick to my hiding spot and stop watching him.

I should worry about my own self.

I should; tonight is a big night for me. Sort of.

It looks like I’m not going to though, worry about myself that is. It looks like I’m going to come out of my hiding spot and walk up to him. I even take a few steps in his direction, and of course that’s my first mistake.

Because of course I get caught.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >174

Advertisement
A Gorgeous Villain (St. Mary’s Rebels #2) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.ilovenovels.com/a-gorgeous-villain-st-marys-rebels-2-read-online-saffron-a-kent Tue, 08 Jun 2021 20:43:39 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/a-gorgeous-villain-st-marys-rebels-2-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Angst, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Romance, Sports Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 207638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1038(@200wpm)___ 831(@250wpm)___ 692(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >206

Read Online Books/Novels:	A Gorgeous Villain (St. Mary’s Rebels #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Saffron A. Kent
Language:	English
Book Information:
NOTE - This book is a STANDALONE set in the world of St. Mary's. The book contains NO CHEATING. Two years ago, Reed Jackson betrayed Calliope Thorne and broke her heart. So she stole his most prized possession – a white mustang – and drove it into the lake for revenge. Now, Callie is stuck at a reform school while Reed is off at college, living his life without repercussions. Until he comes back. With him comes back all the feelings that Callie has been trying to bury: anger and heartbreak. But most of all, desire. At the sight of his beautiful but lying lips and his gunmetal gray eyes that still taunt and smolder when he looks at her. Whatever though. It’s not as if Callie is ever going to fall for her ex-boyfriend again. Or let him corner her in a bar one night and touch her, kiss her… Neither is she going to kiss him back. Or worse, sleep with him. Because that would make her naïve and foolish. Oh, and also pregnant. And there’s no way Callie is ever going to get pregnant at eighteen and with Reed’s baby, no less. The guy she hates. The guy who taught her all about heartbreak. Who might look like a gorgeous hero but really is the villain of her story.
Books in Series:	St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Books by Author:	Saffron A. Kent

PS: Please note that in order to fit the plot and the timeline some things such as high school soccer season and Juilliard admission process have been altered.

He has beautiful gray eyes, gunmetal gray that sometimes glow in the night.

So much so that people call them wolf eyes.

His jaw is sharp and angled, a true V, and his skin looks like priceless marble. Again, so much so that people say he’s got wintry, vampire skin.

They say he’s got magic, dark magic, running through his veins.

If a girl so much as looks into his pretty wolf eyes, no one can save her from falling for him.

No one can save her from getting her heart broken either.

Because he never falls. He is mighty. Everyone knows that.

He’s a heartbreaker. A player.

People say he doesn’t even have a heart, or if he does, it’s pitch black.

But he knows how to toy with yours.

He knows how to play with it. How to toss it up in the air just for fun and how to tie it up with strings and play with it like a puppet. And when he gets bored, he knows how to let it slip through his fingers and drop on the ground, breaking it into tiny little pieces.

Yet girls can’t help but come back for more. Over and over and over again.

They can’t help but come back to the Wild Mustang.

Or the Mustang for short.

That’s what people call him. That’s his soccer nickname.

He plays soccer, yeah.

Soccer is quite popular in our town. In fact, he’s the soccer legend of Bardstown High. And he’s as majestic and magical as an untamed mustang. As reckless and edgy and completely mesmerizing.

Although I don’t call him that.

The name that I get to call him is something completely different, something that I’ve come up with after a lot of deliberation and thought: a villain.

That’s what I call him.

A Gorgeous Villain, actually. Because well, he is gorgeous, but he’s a villain, and I have good reason to believe that.

Four good reasons.

Four overprotective, overbearing, older reasons. My brothers. Who hate him with all the fire in their hearts.

Well, not all of them hate him with all the fire in their hearts. Only one of my brothers does, Ledger. The other three just hate him a normal amount.

Why does Ledger hate him the most though?

Because the Gorgeous Villain is Ledger’s soccer rival.

My brother plays soccer too and he’s a legend in himself. They call him the Angry Thorn, because my brother is a hothead and our last name is Thorne.

Anyway, they both play for the same team. And should potentially be friends and have the same agenda.

However, they aren’t–friends, I mean. And they don’t have the same agenda, at all.

Probably because they’re both forwards for Bardstown High. One is left wing and the other is right and basically, they’re supposed to help each other.

But they don’t because they have this ongoing, age-old contest, where whoever scores the most goals in the season wins.

It’s a matter of pride and honor and a whole lot of testosterone.

I don’t know how it got started, this contest, rivalry, whatever you want to call it, but they both take it very seriously. Their whole team, which is divided into my brother’s camp, the Thorn camp, and his camp, the Mustang camp, takes it seriously as well.

So does the whole town.

Whoever wins this unofficial contest becomes the reigning champion. This year it’s my brother – he won by one measly goal last season – who also happens to be the captain of the team.

The whole town treats him like a king.

Which means free drinks, free food at local restaurants, posters on park benches and light poles. Back pats from people on the street and of course, all the attention from girls.

Trust me when I say that these two will go to any lengths to be the winner.

They’ll do anything to mess with each other, ruin each other’s game on and off the field just so they have a better chance of scoring goals.

And for years I’ve heard about it, about their rivalry, about him.

I’ve heard how corrupt he is, how evil and twisted. How he’d do anything to win at soccer. How much of an asshole, douchebag, bastard, motherfucker, and all those things he is.

But of course, I can’t call him that. I can’t call him all those names.

I’m a good girl.

I don’t curse.

Besides, my brothers curse enough for all of us.

Hence the name: A Gorgeous Villain.

Anyway, it’s game day and I’m at the soccer field right now.

A little personal confession: I don’t like soccer. Not at all.

I think it’s boring and I’d rather be home right now, either baking cookies or cupcakes, or knitting in my favorite armchair by the fire. Two of my favorite things to do.

Another personal confession: I don’t understand this rivalry either. I don’t understand this whole need to win and be the best at any cost. I mean, they play for the same team, don’t they? If the team wins, they win, correct?

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >206

Advertisement
The Wild Mustang & The Dancing Fairy (St. Mary’s Rebels #1.5) Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-wild-mustang-the-dancing-fairy-st-marys-rebels-1-5-read-online-saffron-a-kent Sun, 25 Apr 2021 11:47:55 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-wild-mustang-the-dancing-fairy-st-marys-rebels-1-5-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Romance Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 46183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >46

Read Online Books/Novels:	The Wild Mustang & The Dancing Fairy (St. Mary’s Rebels #1.5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Saffron A. Kent
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B092ZYCFH5
Book Information:
Calliope Thorne is a good girl. A straight-A student, a rule follower, and an aspiring ballerina. But most of all, she’s a good sister to her four older brothers. Brothers whom she loves and adores to pieces. Brothers who love and adore her to pieces in return. And who hate just one and one thing only–Reed Jackson. Rich, arrogant, and the most popular guy at Bardstown High, Reed is Callie’s brothers’ enemy and she has sworn to stay away from him. Until one night when she wanders into the woods and finds herself in his clutches. A villain with pretty gray eyes and a seductive smirk. Until he asks her to dance for him with a look in those eyes that makes her forget why falling for her brothers’ enemy is a bad idea. NOTE: This is a 40,000-word prequel novella for A GORGEOUS VILLAIN. The story concludes in A GORGEOUS VILLAIN.
Books in Series:	St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Books by Author:	Saffron A. Kent

He has beautiful gray eyes, gunmetal gray that sometimes glow in the night.

So much so that people call them wolf eyes.

His jaw is sharp and angled, a true V, and his skin looks like priceless marble. Again, so much so that people say he’s got wintry, vampire skin.

They say he’s got magic, dark magic, running through his veins.

If a girl so much as looks into his pretty wolf eyes, no one can save her from falling for him.

No one can save her from getting her heart broken either.

Because he never falls. He is mighty. Everyone knows that.

He’s a heartbreaker. A player.

People say he doesn’t even have a heart, or if he does, it’s pitch black.

But he knows how to toy with yours.

He knows how to play with it. How to toss it up in the air just for fun and how to tie it up with strings and play with it like a puppet. And when he gets bored, he knows how to let it slip through his fingers and drop on the ground, breaking it into tiny little pieces.

Yet girls can’t help but come back for more. Over and over and over again.

They can’t help but come back to the Wild Mustang.

Or the Mustang for short.

That’s what people call him. That’s his soccer nickname.

He plays soccer, yeah.

Soccer is quite popular in our town. In fact, he’s the soccer legend of Bardstown High. And he’s as majestic and magical as an untamed mustang. As reckless and edgy and completely mesmerizing.

Although I don’t call him that.

The name that I get to call him is something completely different, something that I’ve come up with after a lot of deliberation and thought: a villain.

That’s what I call him.

A Gorgeous Villain, actually. Because well, he is gorgeous, but he’s a villain, and I have good reason to believe that.

Four good reasons.

Four overprotective, overbearing, older reasons. My brothers. Who hate him with all the fire in their hearts.

Well, not all of them hate him with all the fire in their hearts. Only one of my brothers does, Ledger. The other three just hate him a normal amount.

Why does Ledger hate him the most though?

Because the Gorgeous Villain is Ledger’s soccer rival.

My brother plays soccer too and he’s a legend in himself. They call him the Angry Thorn, because my brother is a hothead and our last name is Thorne.

Anyway, they both play for the same team. And should potentially be friends and have the same agenda.

However, they aren’t–friends, I mean. And they don’t have the same agenda, at all.

Probably because they’re both forwards for Bardstown High. One is left wing and the other is right and basically, they’re supposed to help each other.

But they don’t because they have this ongoing, age-old contest, where whoever scores the most goals in the season wins.

It’s a matter of pride and honor and a whole lot of testosterone.

I don’t know how it got started, this contest, rivalry, whatever you want to call it, but they both take it very seriously. Their whole team, which is divided into my brother’s camp, the Thorn camp, and his camp, the Mustang camp, takes it seriously as well.

So does the whole town.

Whoever wins this unofficial contest becomes the reigning champion. This year it’s my brother – he won by one measly goal last season – who also happens to be the captain of the team.

The whole town treats him like a king.

Which means free drinks, free food at local restaurants, posters on park benches and light poles. Back pats from people on the street and of course, all the attention from girls.

Trust me when I say that these two will go to any lengths to be the winner.

They’ll do anything to mess with each other, ruin each other’s game on and off the field just so they have a better chance of scoring goals.

And for years I’ve heard about it, about their rivalry, about him.

I’ve heard how corrupt he is, how evil and twisted. How he’d do anything to win at soccer. How much of an asshole, douchebag, bastard, motherfucker, and all those things he is.

But of course, I can’t call him that. I can’t call him all those names.

I’m a good girl.

I don’t curse.

Besides, my brothers curse enough for all of us.

Hence the name: A Gorgeous Villain.

Anyway, it’s game day and I’m at the soccer field right now.

A little personal confession: I don’t like soccer. Not at all.

I think it’s boring and I’d rather be home right now, either baking cookies or cupcakes, or knitting in my favorite armchair by the fire. Two of my favorite things to do.

Another personal confession: I don’t understand this rivalry either. I don’t understand this whole need to win and be the best at any cost. I mean, they play for the same team, don’t they? If the team wins, they win, correct?

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >46

Advertisement
My Darling Arrow Read online Saffron A. Kent (St. Mary’s Rebels #1) http://www.ilovenovels.com/my-darling-arrow-1-read-online-saffron-a-kent Thu, 03 Sep 2020 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/my-darling-arrow-1-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports Authors: Saffron A. Kent Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 134387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 672(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >133

Read Online Books/Novels:	My Darling Arrow (St. Mary’s Rebels #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Saffron A. Kent
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	9798676779641
Book Information:
Darling Arrow, I shouldn’t be writing this. It’s not as if I’m ever going to send you this letter and there are a million reasons why. First of all, I was sent to St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers – an all-girls reform school – as a punishment for a petty, totally inconsequential crime. Not to ogle the principal’s hot son around the campus. Second of all, you’re a giant jerk. You’re arrogant and moody and so cold. Sometimes I think I shouldn’t even like you. But strangely your coldness sets me on fire. The way your athletic body moves on the soccer field and the way your powerful thighs sprawl across that bike of yours, make me go inappropriately breathless. But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that you, Arrow Carlisle, are not only the principal’s hot son. You also happen to be the love of my sister’s life. And I really shouldn’t be thinking about my sister’s boyfriend or rather fiancé (I overheard a conversation about the ring that I shouldn’t have.) Now if I can only stop writing you these meaningless letters that I’ll never send and you’ll never read… Never yours, Salem NOTE: This book is a standalone and DOES NOT contain cheating.
Books in Series:	St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
Books by Author:	Saffron A. Kent

Some girls are born perfect.

They have perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect skin.

They have perfect grades and high ambitions. They’re popular and admired. They’re adored and revered. And loved.

I’m not one of them.

That’s the first thing to know about me: I’m not perfect.

I have flaws. Many, many flaws.

I don’t have perfect grades. I don’t have high ambitions.

I don’t get why the sum of all the angles of a triangle has to be one hundred and eighty or the world will collapse. Or why when we talk about the heart, we reduce it to a muscular organ with four chambers that’s sole purpose is to pump blood through the body.

I’m far from being popular and I’ve got something called witchy eyes.

Or at least, I call them that.

They’re golden in color and they arch up at the corners, making them look sort of catty, witchy. Which is super poetic because I’ve got a witchy name too.

Salem.

Salem Salinger, and the second thing to know about me is that along with witchy eyes and a witchy name, I’ve got a witchy heart as well.

Meaning, my heart has secrets.

In fact, my heart is swollen with secrets. Many, many secrets like my many, many flaws. And that is why I did what I did.

The thing that landed me here.

The little, inconsequential crime that got me sent to St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers – an all-girls reform school.

Only they don’t call it a reform school anymore.

It’s not the 50s or the 60s. These days, schools like this are called therapeutic school. Because they believe in therapy. And restoration and reformation. They believe in teaching us to be productive members of society.

Who’s us?

We’re the bad and hopeless girls.

We’re the girls who break rules and love rebellion. We don’t like school or classes. So we keep getting into trouble with our classmates and teachers. Sometimes we get expelled multiple times from multiple schools until our parents or guardians are forced to take drastic actions.

Some of us break the law too, which technically I did.

I mean, there were a couple of cops involved. They didn’t handcuff me or anything but I had to ride in their squad car and go to the police station. But there were no charges pressed. Instead, I was sent to St. Mary’s.

I’ve been here almost a week and I’m already behind. In assignments, I mean.

God, the assignments and homework.

They’re very strict about that here.

So I really shouldn’t be falling asleep in class if I want to catch up.

But it’s Friday afternoon and it’s trigonometry and it’s not as if I’m magically going to understand everything to do with triangles and tangents by paying attention in the last fifteen minutes of the class anyway.

Honestly, I don’t think anyone is paying attention even though everyone is quiet and facing the blackboard.

There are probably fifteen other girls besides me in this small beige-painted concrete and cement classroom where I sit in the back.

We’re all slumped over the hard, wooden desks, with our chins in our hands.

We all have tight braids either flowing down our backs or draped over our shoulders, tied at the end with a mustard-colored ribbon. We all wear a starched white blouse and a mustard-yellow skirt that touches the tops of our knees. Except I have a black chunky sweater on because I’m a sunshine girl and the inside of St. Mary’s feels like winter.

We pair our uniforms with knee-length white socks and polished black Mary Janes.

Our notebooks are lying open in front of us and our butts are planted in chairs as hard and wooden as the desks.

From time to time, we squirm and adjust ourselves in our seats because I’m guessing the wood is digging into our asses.

At least, it’s digging into mine.

So it should be really hard to fall asleep, right? Or daydream.

But I’m doing both until I hear a sound.

Psst…

It’s coming from my right. Slowly I turn to find my neighbor, over in the adjacent row, trying to get my attention.

It’s a girl I’ve seen before.

Around campus, in the cafeteria and in the dorm building where every student who goes to St. Mary’s stays, but I’ve never talked to her.

Because no one talks to me here.

I’ve actually tried very hard to get them to talk to me or even smile at me or just wave their hand at me by waving mine but I haven’t been successful. I can’t even get my roommate, Elanor, to say hi to me.

So I don’t know what this girl, my neighbor with blonde hair, wants from me. But as soon as our eyes meet, she motions her head toward something.

Biting my lip, I look at what she’s pointing at.

It’s a piece of paper.

It’s sitting at the edge of my desk, folded over twice to make a little square.

For a second, I can’t comprehend what a piece of paper is doing on my desk. Confused, I look up from it and focus back on the girl. She widens her eyes at me and gestures at it with her chin again.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >133

Read Online Books/Novels:

Hey, Mister Marshall (St. Mary’s Rebels #4)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

Read Online Books/Novels:

These Thorn Kisses (St. Mary’s Rebels #3)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B096735QY7

Read Online Books/Novels:

A Gorgeous Villain (St. Mary’s Rebels #2)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

Read Online Books/Novels:

The Wild Mustang & The Dancing Fairy (St. Mary’s Rebels #1.5)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B092ZYCFH5

Read Online Books/Novels:

My Darling Arrow (St. Mary’s Rebels #1)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

9798676779641