The Elite King’s Club Series by Amo Jones – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

The Elite King’s Club Series by Amo Jones – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Fri, 07 Jan 2022 21:57:07 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png The Elite King’s Club Series by Amo Jones – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Ruined Castles (The Elite King’s Club #8) Read Online Amo Jones http://www.ilovenovels.com/ruined-castles-the-elite-kings-club-8-read-online-amo-jones Fri, 07 Jan 2022 21:37:31 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/ruined-castles-the-elite-kings-club-8-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, New Adult, Romance Authors: Amo Jones Series: The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Ruined Castles (The Elite King's Club #8)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Amo Jones Books
Language:	English
Book Information:
Nothing is going to make sense once you flip open this first chapter. You’re going to wonder why the fuck I made the decisions I did. Why he did what he did. I’m not going to make this easy for you. I’m going to guide you through loops that you’re going to wish I had just skipped, but I’m not going to do that either. You’re going to feel my pain, my loss, and my heart breaking in my chest. You’re going to watch me trip and fall, and get back up again. You’re going to wish you could slap the shit out of Bishop and me, but among all… I’m going to take you back to when I left the love of my life, and ran. This is an open letter to you. Good luck. Mads. Xo
Books in Series:	The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
Books by Author:	Amo Jones Books

You know, for the last three books, I have forgotten to write an acknowledgment section. Who let me in here?

To my husband, first and foremost, because he gets to watch his wife turn into multiple demonic entities every single time I’m writing (you know… my method of writing is a problem).

To my children, because without you I wouldn’t need the escape of these beautiful fictional worlds… I joke. I love my children. Don’t call child services on me.

To my closest friends. I don’t need to name all three of you. (This is seriously a bad joke—again, who let me in here?)

To Sarah Grim Sentz, for always being my biggest supporter and confidant.

To Serena, for still being my PA even though I’m an asshole to deal with because I forget everything and am more like a stray lioness than an actual human.

To Mel for making my newsletters all pretty every month and also dealing with the lioness.

To my editors—I cannot thank you all enough. Ellie McLove from My Brother’s Editor, Petra, Paige Smith, Becky—you all contribute to making sure every manuscript is the best that I can put out. Thank you!

To my cover designer, Jay Aheer! Thank you for creating art.

To Stacey Blake, who always delivers the most beautiful formatting designs.

To my WOLVESSSS! For being my biggest inspiration, cheer team, and family. Gang, gang! That is a song… please don’t come for me.

To my Blogger and Bookstagram teams, thank you SO SO much for all of the work you do for me leading up to a release! You ladies are incredible.

To the bloggers who sign up for my ARCs and Promo—thank you! I am so appreciative for all the time you set aside to read my new books, and then review them. I cannot tell you how thankful I am for each and every one of you.

Social Butterfly PR, Jenn, Shan, and the girls—thank you for working with me always.

Candi PR, thank you, woman! I hope I don’t drive you too crazy with being spooky in general.

Last but definitely not least, my damn readers. MY READERS. My loyalty to you all is unmatched. I hope I always do you proud. Love you forever.

Now this is the part where I get paranoid that I have forgotten someone. I swear, this is why I shouldn’t do these because now I’m going to be up all night, stressing that I’ve forgotten someone.

Hmmm, I think I covered it.

I am thankful for you too. Yes, you. YOU! Thank you for being here and reading my words. For taking a chance on a story from me. I’m honored.

—A xo

To

Sonia Grilletta

01.12.1981-10.10.2020

This one is for you, Queen. May you continue to rest in love. Maybe Julia will come by and read this one to you, so you can get some Madship answers.

Love always,

Amo Jones.

Madison

NOTHING IS GOING TO MAKE sense once you flip open this first chapter. You’re going to wonder why the fuck I made the decisions I did. Why he did what he did. I’m not going to make this easy for you. I’m going to guide you through loops that you’re going to wish I had just skipped, but I’m not going to do that either. You’re going to feel my pain, my loss, and my heart breaking in my chest. You’re going to watch me trip and fall, and get back up again. You’re going to wish you could slap the shit out of Bishop and me, but among all… I’m going to take you back to when I left the love of my life, and ran.

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Sancte Diaboli – Part Two (The Elite King’s Club #7) Read Online Amo Jones http://www.ilovenovels.com/sancte-diaboli-part-two-the-elite-kings-club-7-read-online-amo-jones Sun, 13 Jun 2021 18:22:10 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/sancte-diaboli-part-two-the-elite-kings-club-7-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Authors: Amo Jones Series: The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Sancte Diaboli - Part Two (The Elite King's Club #7)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Amo Jones Books
Language:	English
Book Information:
He held a darkness that could never be touched. She carried a light that could never be seen. Not by anyone. Only by each other. Simply two halves of the same soul, Brantley and Saint were fused together with equal parts wrath and peace. Nothing could break through their bond. Nothing. Until now.
Books in Series:	The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
Books by Author:	Amo Jones Books

Saint

I don’t think anyone can completely explain the feeling of betrayal. The gaping hole that throbs in your chest right where your trust used to be. It can never be replaced. When someone betrays you, they figuratively tear out the trust you gave them, so viciously that there’s surface damage way after it’s been eviscerated. Then you start the process of trying to replenish it. It’s not until you’re deep into wanting, needing to trust that person again that you finally realize that where that cavernous hole now lies, they’ve left behind other destruction. Fissures of harm. So now anything that is being put in there simply leaks out.

Maybe I can explain the feeling of betrayal.

Maybe that should scare me.

Maybe it should scare them.

But what it doesn’t do is change the events that happened. That led me to where I am today. Here. Right now. After being taken away by one of the only people I have ever trusted.

There’s a knock on the door. Knock knock knock. I should say come in. Be polite. But as I study the Band-Aid that’s pressed against my throat, the dark shadows around my eyes, and the tacky straw I once called hair, I realize something.

Everything that happened last night was real.

So. Very. Real.

I was betrayed.

Badly.

Exhaling the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, I place my hands onto my lap while keeping my eyes fixed on myself in the ornate mirror in front of me. “Come in.”

The discreet protest of marble against heel. Quiet footsteps I don’t recognize. There’s a slight shift in the atmosphere, as if my simmering rage has been blanketed by a sense of calm.

“Saint.” Her voice is tender, which is a complete contrast to her energy.

Interesting.

I refuse to look at her. Whoever she is, I think I recognize her voice from right before I blacked out.

A glass filled with orange juice is placed down on top of the antique vanity. I fight not to grab it at lightning speed. My mouth turns fuzzy, as if I’ve been sucking on cotton balls. So thirsty.

“I’m Veronica.” Beads of condensation slide down the cool glass.

I shuffle in my seat.

She continues, “Welcome to my home.” There’s a pause. “For goodness’ sake, child. Take a drink before I do it for you. It’s giving me a headache, really.”

I reach for the glass and stifle my sigh when the cool thick pulp slides down my parched throat. God. It tastes like it came from the Garden of Eden. Not necessarily a good thing, historically speaking.

Running my tongue over my cracked lips, I finally bring my eyes up to the figure in the mirror. “Where am I?”

She has long—impressively long—raven hair that doesn’t stop until it is laying on her lap. Though with hair that long, you wouldn’t expect it to have such a silky shine to it. The light, which hangs above us, reflects it like a honey glaze. Her almond-shaped eyes are enticing, yet dangerous, but the cobalt color releases a warmth over her features. A single mole is below her left eye, and on her, it only adds to her beauty. She isn’t beautiful, though.

She looks dangerous.

Her slender finger taps against her pale thigh, her nails the color of Brantley’s room. Pointed, sharp, dark. On her middle finger, a silver ring pierces through her nail.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable. It’s as though it bathes all of the noise that runs rogue inside my head.

She wears a short leather skirt that almost looks one size too small, yet somehow only makes her curves seem more seductive, and a black leather jacket with a small bralette underneath. It is opened, revealing a sliver of the body she keeps beneath. A gold choker is clasped around her dainty neck, with a chain leading down her sternum before connecting to another that hangs around her lower belly. Thigh-high leather boots—again black. She is almost like Morticia in the flesh.

“Get a good enough look, our little Hecate?”

“Hecate?” I boldly ask, turning in my chair to finally give her my undivided attention.

“Mmmhhmmm.” One perfectly arched dark brow lifts. “I take it you’re familiar with Greek mythology?”

“Yes.” My palms sweat. I don’t want to talk about this right now. “Though I don’t understand why you would nickname me after the Guardian of the Crossroads.”

She studies me closely, her smug smile never leaving her face. Black painted lips, onyx eyeliner smudged around her eyes, and cheeks pinched pink. “Maybe you need to study more?”

“Why am I here?” My shoulders stiffen. I’m suddenly aware of everything surrounding me. The room, which drips opulence, the soft classical music playing in the background, an ancient clock ticking, the pungent smell of bleach.

She crosses her legs, resting the palms of her hands on top of my bed. “Well, baby steps, child. Baby steps.” Her eyes fall down my body. “Your shower is through the third door to your right.” Her finger points across the room, but I’m so ensnared by this strange woman that I don’t look. “The one beside it is your personal closet. Use it.” She pauses, her top lip curling slightly. “Though I hear your fashion style is not as you are dressed now, I beg of you to use what is there.”

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Sancte Diaboli Part One (The Elite King’s Club #6) Read Online Amo Jones http://www.ilovenovels.com/sancte-diaboli-part-one-the-elite-kings-club-6-read-online-amo-jones Wed, 17 Feb 2021 09:50:06 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/sancte-diaboli-part-one-the-elite-kings-club-6-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Dark, New Adult, Romance Authors: Amo Jones Series: The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Sancte Diaboli Part One (The Elite King's Club #6)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Amo Jones Books
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	9798704532217
Book Information:
The Devil comes with baggage, and not the kind you can lose. I was two years old when he saved me. I didn’t understand much at that age, but I remember the pale boy with hair as dark as ink, saving me from two evils. He said he would protect me; I just didn’t know he meant from himself. I was raised in the arms of evil, tailored for the Devil like a custom Armani suit, and every day he wore it like a weapon. Brantley thought by keeping me locked in his manor that it would protect me, and it did. Until it didn’t. As I slowly adapt to The Elite Kings Club and the dark, sinister world that exists around the outlaws in suits, I come to learn that the monster everyone fears is the very same one I crave. Like a prized trophy, I sit on his throne… Something quite pretty, an object he owns… She’s a porcelain doll, so shiny, so clean… Something I want to polish, but to never be seen… The time has come, I am in his world… Now his Dea, can be admired by all… The thing with porcelain is it’s fragile and delicate… It would only take a second for me to eradicate it…
Books in Series:	The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
Books by Author:	Amo Jones Books

To us.

Because we’re all fucking survivors.

Saint

Everyone has a story, and when you die, your memories cling to the minds of the people you leave behind, scripted in permanent ink. They can go back and visit their favorite chapters when they need comfort, or simply skip over the scenes they want to forget, but what they can’t do, is be removed. Even if you tear a page from a well-written book, there will always be telltale signs something was there. There you lie, embedded in their minds forever, so essentially you’ll live forever, right? I didn’t think much about this until I met him. The day that I would die, I mean. Would I leave behind a novella, or would it be a nine-book series that would need your undivided attention? You see, I’ve gazed into the eyes of death twice in my life, and both times began at the entrance of his soul. His stare was always heavy and roguish, but he lit a match inside my body that would burn a lifetime after I’m gone. I wasn’t sure what I felt the first time his cold, corpse-like skin sailed over mine, but I remember it was the exact day that I knew I would never be the same. I was touched by the Devil; Heaven would never want me now. Not that Heaven was where I belonged either, though I’m sure he thought so. Tortured souls still weep; they tear themselves apart in dark corners where no one can see. Brantley is just that—tortured—though he doesn’t conceal it. He wears his darkness like a souvenir, proud and indifferent. I knew Brantley from the inside out, and I say that literally. I was familiar with the notes that his blood left in my mouth well after I had swallowed it.

And I think that will haunt me more than anything. It will haunt me so much more than this day.

The day my book hit the final page.

Brantley

Past

I couldn’t take my fucking eyes off her. If Dad looked up to my window right now and caught me watching him and Uncle Hector having a discussion that, clearly, looked heated, I may as well have had given him the key to my cell block and called it a fucking day. It wasn’t that I hated my father, it was that I hated my father. Yeah, there was a difference. I wish my problems with Lucan Vitiosis were as simple as most kids when they say they hate their parents. They weren’t. Anyway, back to the little girl. She looked strange. Like she didn’t belong to this world, more extra-terrestrial. Her hair was long for her age, around her shoulders, and it had to be the whitest shade of white I had ever seen. Almost translucent.

I stepped back from the windowpane, and before I could think or even stop myself, I started making my way down the hallway and stairs. They creaked beneath my weight, all of the painted portraits of the Vitiosis family line were staring down at me, probably telling me to stay out of it. “Sorry, Aunt, whatever the fuck your name is. But did you see her?” I’m still making my way down the stairs while hitching my thumb over my shoulder. “She’s like a doll.” Never been a fan of playing with dolls, until I saw her. Now I want to take her pieces apart just to see how she works.

I paused. My hand gripped the handle of the door. The gold lion emblem marking the palm of my hand. Fuck it. Turning, I rested my head on the back of the door, squeezing my eyes closed. I didn’t need to get involved. But then she screamed, and every note that left her mouth hid in all of the dark corners of my soul. Instead of running from me, she came to me. Anger sprang through me instantly and I spun around, whipped the door open, and froze at the threshold with my shoulders locked and my teeth bared. My eyes found her body instantly, and I didn’t even realize I was checking her for injuries until my eyes found Lucan’s grip around her little arms.

I glared at my father. “Let her go.” She wore a purple turtleneck and white pants. They weren’t soiled or filthy looking, and her skin was bright and fresh looking. She had obviously been cared for wherever she had come from. A gold emblem on her top flashed when the sun hit it, but I didn’t pay that close attention to it.

Lucan turned his head over his shoulder until he met my gaze. “What?”

Hector grabbed the little girl. “I will handle it another way. Brantley,” Hector demanded my attention, but all I could fixate on was the grip he had on the little girl. I never gave a fuck about much in life. Not because I didn’t want to, because I did. I wanted to. But I couldn’t. Everything was white noise to me. I wish I cared about the mundane shit that my brothers cared about. Girls, sex, drugs, fast cars, and all that shit. I had a fragile attention span when it came to everything in life. You got about three seconds to blow my mind or I’m out.

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Malum Part 2 Read online Amo Jones (The Elite King’s Club #4) http://www.ilovenovels.com/malum-part-2-4-read-online-amo-jones Fri, 30 Mar 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/malum-part-2-4-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Dark, New Adult, Romance Authors: Amo Jones Series: The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Malum Part 2 (The Elite King's Club #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Amo Jones
Language:	English
Book Information:
Some girls don’t like pretty things. Some girls like things that are destructive, and toxic. Things that fuel our bodies with adrenaline and bring our demons to their knees. They say magic isn’t real, but it’s it the closest way to describe love? It doesn’t exist physically. It merely exists around us, within us, possessing our souls and making us do stupid shit. Shit like falling in love with a boy who knows how to rip my world apart and raise hell with a simple flick of his wrist. Their secrets are now mine. I’m not just in the middle of this game, I’m helping orchestrate it. Can the cries of my aching soul be enough to drown out the burning embers of my mistakes? The mind strengthens the heart, roughing the edges to prepare it for war. This is a war I will not win. This is a war of fate. 𝑆ℎ𝑒’𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘. 𝑆ℎ𝑒’𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙. 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒, 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠𝑛’𝑡 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝐼’𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒. 𝑁𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝑁𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡.
Books in Series:	The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
Books by Author:	Amo Jones Books

Tillie

Nate backs me up against the cold cell, examining me. “You like this, huh, Princessa…”

I shake my head, refusing to show any fear. Nate is like a shark with fear. He senses it in the water, and he thinks it’s feeding time. “No. I don’t. What are you doing and why am I here?”

My eyes go over Nate’s shoulder and land on Brantley, who watches me carefully. “Brantley?”

Just when I think he’s going to say something, maybe put me in my place for questioning them, his mouth snaps shut. I watch as he disappears back through the way we came.

“He won’t help you. Stay here and don’t move, Tillie. If you try to escape, we will kill you.”

I don’t know why there’s a part of my brain that doesn’t believe he would do that. You don’t keep someone alive through a lot of turmoil only to off them if they do something so insignificant like not listening. Nate smirks as if he hears what I’m thinking. Backing up slowly, he exits my cell, flicking the lock closed. His eyes never leave mine.

“There’s always a reason why we do the things we do, Tillie—remember?”

I don’t take the bait, sliding down the cold wall and landing on my butt. There’s a long pull of silence before I hear the door open and close again, and then Brantley’s boots come into view out of the corner of my eye.

“What is it, Brantley? You guys won. Go and celebrate by snorting more cocaine or fucking more girls…” I don’t want to talk to Daemon until they’ve all left, and part of me is still trying to calm my erratic brain from all of the possibilities of why, and how, he’s still alive.

Brantley unhooks the lock, the heavy clinking of metal jerking me out of my thoughts. He opens the cell, stepping inside. I brave myself to bring my eyes up to his as he leans down to my level, his elbows resting on his knees.

His palm comes to my face. “Kiss me.”

“What?” I ask, confused. My eyes fall to his swollen lips.

He squeezes my cheeks slightly, his face coming closer to mine. “Kiss. Me.”

I lean forward until our lips touch, warm velvet skimming against mine. Slinging my arm around the back of his neck, a moan slips out of me as I pull him closer. I kiss him because I’m angry. I kiss him because I’m hurt. And I kiss him for the probability of Nate watching somehow. Just as his tongue slips into my mouth, I exhale from the intrusion. His kiss is as calculated as his character. He gives enough without giving too much. He sucks on my bottom lip, licking me across the rim. His arms wrap around my waist, bringing me to my feet. Thick thighs separate my legs, stretching me wide as his body sinks against mine, shoving me up against the metal bars. He lifts me up by my thighs as I wrap my legs around him, all while his mouth continues to assault mine. My stomach flutters, my core pulsing. I want him. I have always somewhat wanted him, to an extent, and now that Nate has well and truly shattered any and all trust that I had in him, I’m feeling reckless. If you hurt someone enough, they acclimatize to pain, but just like a wound, if you don’t seal it, you’ll bleed out.

Brantley pulls away, placing me back on my feet while grabbing my hand. “Now, you owe me twice for getting him mad, and princess, I will be collecting.” He continues to drag me out of my cell, unlocking the one beside Daemon and shoving me inside. I turn, just in time to see him shutting the door.

“Brantley…” I want to apologize. I want to say so many things.

He shakes his head. “Don’t, Tillie.”

I know I owe him for saving me from Nate more than once or twice, but before I can address my gratitude, he leaves, and it’s not until I hear the heavy steel door slam closed that I slide down to my ass, drawing my legs up and turning my head to face Daemon.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Daemon scrapes closer, grasping onto the bars that separate our cages. “I have seen much worse, Puella.”

My heart squeezes in my chest from the use of my nickname. I thought I’d never hear it again. “I thought you were dead, Daemon. We all thought you were dead. We all mourned you.” Madison pops up inside my head and I wince. “Did everyone know but me?”

Daemon shakes his head. He’s wearing tattered jeans and a shirt that looks like it’s seen better days. “No.”

I massage my temples. “My god. Madison doesn’t know you’re still alive?” I screech, shaking my head.

Selfishly, it does make me feel better knowing that my best friend didn’t betray me, but a bigger part of me is now terrified about what’s going to happen when she does find out. Her and Bishop are already on struggle street, I’d hate to know what’s going to happen when she finds out that he’s been hiding the biggest secret of all from her. Her fucking twin brother being alive. My eyes fly up to the little camera that’s sitting in the corner of my dark cell, the bright red dot signaling they’re watching. I flip the camera off.

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Malum Part 1 Read online Amo Jones (Elite King’s Club #4) http://www.ilovenovels.com/malum-part-1-4-read-online-amo-jones Sat, 23 Dec 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/malum-part-1-4-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Dark, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Authors: Amo Jones Series: The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Malum: Part 1 (The Elite King's Club #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Amo Jones
Language:	English
Book Information:
“Love is savage, love is blind, love is something they may not find…” Once upon a time, there was a young girl who lived in a battered trailer, a girl from the wrong side of the tracks. One day, she fell down The Elite Kings’ rabbit hole. Sucked into a dark vortex of lies, hate, and deceit, and spat out by money, glitz, and power. There were things this little girl didn’t know, things she was about to find out and secrets that have been kept from her. Those secrets were guarded by the boys that were about to smash her world open and tear it all apart… He may be a Malum, but she is a Stuprum, born into this world but neglected by the choice of her mother. Her eyes may not glisten with stars, but they roar with fire, and when she finally reaches her peak, it’s that same fire that will burn. Them. All. Down. My name is Tillie Stuprum, and my story is not like the rest. Everything she thought she knew is a fabricated version of the truth. I’m Nate Riverside-Malum, the one your girl whispers about to her friends and whose initials are scratched down your back. Her story is not like the rest of them, because her story is dead.
Books in Series:	The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
Books by Author:	Amo Jones Books

How many times in one lifetime do they say you find a soulmate? Is it once? Twice? Three times? Ice cream slipped down my throat as I thought of this. The quote scribbled on a rusty piece of paper read: You find three types of love in your lifetime. The first will show you all that you did wrong. The second will show you how you should be loved, but the third will show you what it feels like to die while still being alive. I didn’t know why my small, six-year-old brain had taken those words and twisted them inside of her head, but that didn’t sound right to me. Why would I want to love three times? That sounded too exhausting.

I’d rather lick this ice cream.

“Tillie!” my sister, Peyton, called out to me, robbing my attention away from the storefront window.

“What!”

My sister was the opposite of me. I was blonde, she had red hair. Fire hydrant red, too, and the freckles to match. She was the popular girl at school, mainly because she cared entirely too much what people thought of her, and I was the nerd.

“Hurry up, dipshit. If we’re late, Dad will get mad and you know what happens when he’s mad.”

My ice cream cone smashed to the filthy ground as realization sunk in from the onslaught of her verbal throw down.

I wiped my hands on my shorts and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

Metallic slapped my mouth as I fell to the ground. Everything in the room spinning in a carousel that I’m all too familiar with.

“You were late. Why were you late?” A thick boot slammed into my rib cage and a loud crack vibrated through the air.

“I was eating my ic—ic—ice cream.”

He chuckled so loud that I winced. I hate your laugh. The smell of stale cheap whiskey danced with musky cigarette smoke and exploded around me to form the distinguishing smell of Darren Lovett, aka, my dad.

I focus on a single dent in the floor of our trailer. The place my eyes always found when I was beaten into this position. I used to flick my marbles into it for fun, now I use it as sustenance to know that I’m still alive.

The beatings carry on for around an hour. An hour of pure terror. The back and forth toss up inside of my head on whether I’m going to live through it. Will I want to be alive by the end of it?

“It’s my fault, Dad. I let her get the stupid ice cream,” Peyton protested.

Dad didn’t pay her any attention.

Like usual.

I close my eyes and let my thoughts carry me to a wondrous world where pain doesn’t exist.

Pain exists everywhere though. It always has. At six-years-old, I knew that my life would be filled with nothing but pain.

They say that losing your lover can be an agony that’s so unbearable the mere thought of it can cripple you.

I take a tentative step toward the gravesite, placing a bouquet of flowers over the gravestone while ignoring the people that are gathered here today.

They lied. The most crippling pain that comes isn’t from losing your lover, it’s from losing something that was so precious that you didn’t deserve it to begin with.

Nate

14 years-old

“I fucking hate this place,” I murmured to Bishop around my chicken drumstick. I tried hard to ignore all of the stores that lined the main street of Perdita and watched as people moved away from us. I felt like Moses parting The Red Sea. People were afraid of us here, with good reason. Our reputation never failed us. Of all the times I have been here, there has always been one place that I can’t ignore—Caesar’s Chicken. The man grills his chicken to perfection, so every time we’re in Perdita, you can bet your ass I’ll be in Caesar’s first. Fuck our mission, or whatever else I have to do here. First stop is always Caesar’s. I make all The Kings wait too.

“We don’t have to be here long, chill.”

I take a big bite and tear the meat from the bone while eyeing a woman walking with her kid. Not a fan of kids. Annoying little fuckers. She quickly tucks her son’s head under her arm and pulls him along.

I bare my teeth and bite down, snapping at her. She lets out a small scream and runs off like a panicked little rat.

Bishop shakes his head. “Stop scaring the locals.”

“Fuck em’.” I look forward to the endless path ahead of me, the path that I know leads straight to Katsia’s dungeon. You know, if a dungeon was a mansion that was built from the rarest marble and stone and then hammered together with carved diamonds.

“What does she want?” I ask, tossing the bone into a passing bin.

“Don’t know yet. Probably your dick.”

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Tacet a Mortuis (Whispers from the Dead) Read Online Amo Jones (Elite King’s Club #3) http://www.ilovenovels.com/tacet-a-mortuis-whispers-from-the-dead-3-read-online-amo-jones Fri, 12 May 2017 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/tacet-a-mortuis-whispers-from-the-dead-3-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Authors: Amo Jones Series: The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Tacet a Mortuis (Whispers from the Dead) (The Elite King's Club #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Amo Jones
Language:	English
Book Information:
Hail to the king, and watch him reign, this game was somewhat fun, until the finale came… Now we’re here, with carnage and despair, and the only questions left to answer, are the ones that do not appear... A king loses a war, and a swan sheds her wings, chaos collides with peace, as the crows begin to sing… Enter if you dare, because I swear the end is near, but nothing is as it seems, and everything is so bare. So what the f*ck is going on at Riverside, I think, I think... everyone is about to die....
Books in Series:	The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
Books by Author:	Amo Jones Books

Recap

The Broken Puppet

“No!” I scream, dropping to the ground. Shaking my head, I clutch my hair and pull at it, wanting to scratch the memories out of my head.

“Madison!” Who is that? It sounds like Bishop. “Brantley—”

Looking toward the bed, I swallowed, slowly stepping into the room. It was a big room. Gigantic. It was dim, almost dark in the room, and there was a big bed sitting to the side. I looked closer, stepping toward the bed, my heart beating in my chest and my throat clogged. All the lights were dim, but there was one shining on the bed. Only when I got closer, I saw it was a camera sitting on a stand with a light pointing toward the mattress.

My eyebrows pulled together. “Wha—”

“Go to the bed, Silver.” That voice. I hated that voice. I felt sick, my tummy not feeling good. Something was wrong, like it was always wrong when he was around. I hated him, but I obeyed because that was what I’d been told to do. I had to listen to adults; they always knew best. But why did he make me feel dirty? No other adult made me feel dirty. He made me sad, hurt, and angry all at once. I was confused, I think.

Walking toward the bed, I stopped at the foot of it. There was a small boy curled up on top of the covers, but he was wearing no clothes. Why was he wearing no clothes? He must’ve been cold.

“Silver, on the bed!” Lucan raised his voice at me, and I flinched, quickly crawling onto the soft mattress.

“Hi,” I whispered to the boy who was crying. “What’s wrong?” I asked, wanting to know why he was so sad. Did he feel like I did? Did Lucan make him feel the same way I felt?

The boy sobbed then buried his head into the blanket. “Go away!” he yelled as he continued to cry. He was angry and sad, so maybe he did feel the same way as I did.

I stopped, sitting on the mattress as Lucan loosened his tie and pointed the camera at us. “Silver, take your clothes off.”

“No!” I scream, sweat oozing out of my flesh. “Leave me alone. My name isn’t Silver! It’s Madison! Madison Montgomery! I’m not Silver!” I rock back and forth on the gravel road, trying to pull myself out of the memory.

“I—what about the boy?”

Lucan looked toward the boy on the bed, his lip curled. “Brantley, make room for Silver.”

My eyes pop open and I shoot off the road, ignoring the tiny stones that are embedded into my flesh. “Brantley!” I scream.

Brantley turns to face me, a blank look pulling over his features.

I turn pale, all blood leaving my body. The pain, the anger, the sadness, it’s all been cracked open again, and suddenly I’m that scared little girl again.

“What the fuck are they talking about?” Hector booms, losing his cool slightly. “And what the fuck just happened there, Madison?”

Headlights light up the cabin, but I ignore them. I ignore everything.

And suddenly, rage. Pure rage electrifies me like a rush of adrenaline. Squaring my shoulders, I finally look directly at Lucan, the man who abused me as a child. The man my parents trusted. The man I thought I could trust. The man who made me keep secrets by using his “I’m an adult” card on me.

The man I want to kill.

“You!” I seethe.

His eyes join with mine, and he still looks the same, only older. So much older. His head is bald now, his face free of hair, but his eyes. His eyes will forever be the trigger to that feeling. That same feeling I felt when I was a little girl starts slowly slipping into me, but I fight it. I’m not her anymore. I’m older. More experienced. And though I may feel this pain for the coming months after being face-to-face with him, I know whatever I do it will be worth it. Car doors close in the distance behind me, but again, I ignore it. I ignore everything because my focus is solely on Lucan. Everything in my peripheral is closed.

I can hear people, or someone, walking toward us behind me, their feet crunching against the gravel, but I ignore it.

He chuckles. “Ain’t no one gonna believe you, Silver.”

The footsteps stop.

Ice cold wind whips my hair across my face, and that’s when I know. I know those footsteps belong to Bishop and the Kings.

Lucan lunges at me, gripping my hair and pulling my back up against his front. It happens so fast I barely blink, but when I do, I see them. With my back pressed against Lucan’s front, his gun pressing against my temple, I look pleadingly right at Bishop, but he’s not looking at me. His shoulders are rising and falling in anger, his eyes zoned directly in on Lucan.

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The Broken Puppet Read Online Amo Jones (Elite King’s Club #2) http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-broken-puppet-2-read-online-amo-jones Sat, 10 Dec 2016 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/the-broken-puppet-2-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Dark, Drama, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Authors: Amo Jones Series: The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	The Broken Puppet (The Elite King's Club #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Amo Jones
Language:	English
Book Information:
“I thought I knew who I was, but I was wrong.” The Silver Swan - 1. A girl who is tarnished. Tainted. One who does not fit into the confinement of legend. The Silver Swan -2. Madison Montgomery. I was lied to. I was cheated. Resigned to pick up the scraps of empty memories and disarrayed thoughts, I left. After finally cutting the strings of manipulation, I resorted to do what I’ve done since I was a child, something my father drilled into my brain since I could handle my first rifle. Run. I’m a mere shadow of the girl they all knew. Lies and deceit change you. They alter your entire outlook on life. I’m Madison Montgomery, and I want to play a game. Here’s what happens when I win. Riddle me this, Mads. What goes bump in the night, but is something you can’t see with sight? You may run, and you may hide. If by happily ever after, you mean Bonnie & Clyde.
Books in Series:	The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
Books by Author:	Amo Jones Books

To the girls who have been through hell but come out with its fire burning through their soul, its crimson bleeding from their heart, and the devil as their side bitch.

This one’s for you.

For us.

Straighten that crown.

Deuces.

MOMMY? I DUCKED BEHIND MY closed bedroom door.

As I peeked around the corner, my mom started raising her voice, stabbing her finger into the man standing in front of her. “No, this wasn’t part of the plan!”

The man smiled in a way that made me clutch my teddy, Puppie, tighter. “You don’t call the shots. She’s a Venari. You will have to run, and run fast if you don’t want this catching up with you.”

My mom clutched the locket on her chest. “She…,” my mother whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. “She’s just a kid, Lucan. She… she—”

“Is the Silver Swan, Elizabeth. You must run. Now, before Hector finds out.”

My mom sucked in a breath just as I stepped backward, quietly running to my bed. Slipping under the covers, I wiggled into the warmth and clutched Puppie closer. It was my birth present from a close family friend, and I’d slept with her since. She had ballerina slippers, a loose dress, and her hands stuck up in the air when the puppet strings were attached. When my door finally cracked open, my eyes slammed shut as I began to scratch one of the button eyes on my teddy. The material was worn, and the puppet strings were now broken. I was seven though, so I should’ve been too old for Puppie to be sleeping in bed with me. But I know why the man was here.

He comes here every Friday.

I know what he does next.

Bleeding echoes reverberate around Madison’s bedroom as sobs wrack through her body. Clutching her knees up to her chest, she scrunches her eyes closed, attempting to block out the familiar memories that assault her every night. Like a murky walk down a cold, damp road, alone, unable to break free from the confinement of which she’s constricted to.

“This is part of who you are, Silver.”

Goose bumps break out over her flesh at the slithering invasion of that voice. And then everything changes, as if she’s watching herself from the outside as a different person.

“No!” Madison tossed and turned in his arms, attempting to break her wrists free from the tight grip strapped around her.

“Shhh, Silver, you’re not your own.”

“What?” Madison gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks. “What do you mean I’m not my own?” The hand that was around her wrists went to her loose ponytail, and he tugged it down slightly. “Please don’t. Not tonight,” Madison pleaded, her throat constricting through the pain, and the betrayal.

“You best get used to this, Silver. This is only the beginning of your life.”

“But I’m little.”

“This is better than being dead.” Then he gripped onto Madison’s pajama bottoms and tore them off, flicking them across the room. She closed her eyes and dreamed of a day, a better day, where her family secrets and ties weren’t coming into her bedroom every Friday night. Black Friday was what Madison called it. She feared it, despised it, and one day, she hoped to put a bullet between its eyes. The first time, he stole her virginity. And Madison knew the blood that trickled down her innocent thighs wouldn’t bleed without retribution.

“MADISON? ARE YOU SURE YOU want to leave?” Tatum asks, looking at me from over her arm, her hands resting on the steering wheel.

“Yes,” I answer, gazing out the window. “I can’t be around them right now, Tatum.”

She looks at me, pulling onto the highway. “Do you want to talk about what happened back there?”

I hit the radio, hoping to drown out her questions. Jason Derulo’s “Stupid Love” starts playing.

“So yup, that’s a no then,” Tatum mutters, taking her attention back to the road. I close my eyes and lose myself in the lyrics of the song. Fuck love. Fuck any feelings that resemble love, or show it. The one person who was supposed to love me unconditionally betrayed me too. What does that say? What, am I that unlovable? Or do so many people think I don’t deserve their truth? Both of which are shit, if I’m being honest. Which I am.

The song finishes and I turn the radio down, realizing it’s not Tatum’s fault.

“You don’t have to do this with me, Tate, but I can’t be here, with them, around all the lies.”

She sighs. “Madi, I’m not leaving you. I know our friendship moved fast, but… I’ve never had any friends before, and I’m a little…” Her face turns red before she looks back to me. “Lonely. So I’m not leaving you out here—alone.”

“But you do realize that you’ll have to ditch your credit cards?” I point out, watching her reaction.

Realization slips over briefly before a smile snaps back onto her face. “Yes, Madi. Consider them gone.”

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The Silver Swan Read Online Amo Jones (Elite King’s Club #1) http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-silver-swan-1-read-online-amo-jones Fri, 07 Oct 2016 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/the-silver-swan-1-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Dark, Drama, New Adult, Romance, Suspense, Thriller, Young Adult Authors: Amo Jones Series: The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	The Silver Swan (The Elite King's Club #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Amo Jones
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B01NAGF5Q7
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Riddle me this... “I am neither dead, nor alive, and I’m not something little Madison can hide. But you will be dead, by the time this is done... the timer starts now, and the games have just begun…” Madison Montgomery comes from money and power, but when someone close to her commits the ultimate crime, Madison must live with her tainted name for the rest of her life. When she begins Riverside Preparatory Academy, the private school her father has swept her into in The Hamptons, she hopes for a fresh start. What she wasn't hoping for was the pack of bad boys who run the school; ten, to be exact. When Madison gains the attention of their leader, Bishop Vincent Hayes, a whole new world that she didn't think existed is exposed to her. A whole world that starts and ends with The Elite Kings Club and these boys, are about to flip her world upside down. Secrets are overflowing and family lies are about to be exposed. Is there more to Madison Montgomery than even she knows? About this book: I need to admit something right now. The Silver Swan is fcked. It might be the most insane story I've ever written with equally insane characters. Who knew? You know, when I started this book, it was supposed to be YA. I wanted to write a book that my sisters could read. A book that won't have people look at my mum like "damn... what sort of messed up shit happened to your kid?". The angst, the assholeness, the games, the fkery, the WHAT THE FKING FK ARE YOU DOING???!!!... I cannot even.... anyway, this is a warning (and the only one I'll give you). It's crazy. I don't compare my work to my others, but this book is fked. It will most likely stomp all the fk over people's hard limits (and not give a sht while it's doing it) and will make you second guess all the morals you thought you had. This most definitely is not looking like a love story right now... more like a..... I don't even....shakes head anyway, I apologise now. You asked for it..........
Books in Series:	The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
Books by Author:	Amo Jones books

THE SCHOOL HALLWAYS CAVE IN on me as I walk through what would be my first day at Riverside Preparatory Academy. The sound of closing lockers and snickering voices surround me, and all I want to do is go visit my mom’s grave. My dad moved us across the state, because he had found “the one.” I’m beginning to think he can’t count. This would be his third “the one” since my mom’s passing.

Reaching my locker, I pull it open and place my brand-new textbooks inside before taking out my class schedule. Calculus. Great. My leather bangles jingle as I close my locker door and make my way to calculus. It’s September, so at least I’m starting at the beginning of the school year.

Halting at the threshold of the classroom, I look down to my paper to check the numbers before looking at the ones mounted above the door. Ignoring the twenty or so eyes gawking at me, I manage to slip out, “Is this 1DY for calculus?”

The teacher, I assume, walks up to me, his black-rimmed glasses shielding his tired eyes and his gray hair illustrating his age. “Yes, Madison Montgomery?”

Swallowing, I nod. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Welcome to Riverside Prep. I’m Mr. Warner. Why don’t you take a seat?”

I smile at him, clutching my books, and walk toward the crowd of students who are all sitting in their chairs, and that’s when the whispering starts.

“Madison Montgomery? Isn’t that the girl whose mom murdered her dad’s girlfriend before killing herself?”

“Are you sure?” her friend asks, eyeing me skeptically. “She seemed so much prettier in the newspapers.”

“No, that’s definitely her. Her dad is loaded too. They’re from old money, and her mom was a bored housewife who caught her husband cheating. So she stabbed the woman to death before shooting herself in the head—with Madison’s shotgun.” The air begins to thicken as I drop down to my seat.

“Her shotgun? She owns a shotgun? Ew. Better stay away from her. She might be as crazy as her mother.”

They laugh before Mr. Warner clicks his fingers, demanding their attention. I close my eyes briefly, swallowing down any hope I had at getting a fresh start at a new school. Nothing and no one could give me a new beginning. Who was I kidding?

At first break, I walk to the outside entrance and take a seat on one of the steps. The way the school is laid out allows students to use the front steps to eat their lunch or the cafeteria. The atrium is filled with students, so I opt to eat out here where the sun is shining and where it’s less… people-y.

“Hi!” a chirpy voice bellows, and I look up behind me to find a girl who’s as small as a pixie. Her tiny body is covered in the finest labeled clothes, and her white-blonde hair has the sun bouncing off it. I also can’t help but notice that where my wrists are bound by black metal and leather bangles, hers are silver and gold. I know instantly we can’t be friends.

“Hi.” I tuck my brown hair behind my ear.

She sits down beside me anyway, taking a bite out of her sandwich. “I’m Tatum. You’re new, right?”

I nod, sucking the juice from my apple off my thumb. “Yup. Sorry, you probably don’t want to be seen with me.”

She waves my comment away. “I know all about you. Madison Montgomery, seventeen years old. Daughter of a murderer who then shot herself. Dad has money coming out his butt. Came from Beverly Hills to the Hamptons. Have I missed anything?”

I blink slowly before narrowing my eyes. “You forgot the part where it was my gun.”

She laughs nervously. “I know. I was just hoping that wasn’t true.”

“My point. You probably don’t want to be seen with me.” I turn my attention back to my apple.

She shakes her head. “Nope, you and I are going to be great friends.”

After break, I carry on to my next class, and before I know it, the bell rings for lunch. Tatum insists on showing me around the school the best she can, pointing out all the different classrooms and where I can sign up for what. During lunch, the boys come from their side of the school, and we all join in the cafeteria, which splits the girl and boy sides of the school. On the rich side, it’s up there on Bill Gates’s status, and I’m seriously wondering how the hell my father managed to get me in. We’re rich, yes, but there’s something else about this school. You need a high level of pedigree to get in, too.

We walk into the cafeteria, and Tatum points down to my skirt. “You can accessorize your school uniform. We can hem it higher if we want.” My plaid school skirt sits just above my knees, and I’m okay with the length. I don’t want to attract any more attention, so I brush off her suggestion.

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