No Saint
β Scribed by Jo Raven
- Publisher
- Jo Raven
- Year
- 2019
- Tongue
- English
- Weight
- 206 KB
- Category
- Fiction
No coin nor oath required. For personal study only.
β¦ Synopsis
Meet the infamous Ross, black sheep of the family and bully extraordinaire.
I drink too much, smoke too much, screw around. I've hurt people, been in and out of prison. I'm a bastard, a beast. I'm a bundle of joy.
I mean, my own dad tried to kill me, what does that tell you?
Then again, my dad did kill my mom, so maybe it isn't just me. Who the hell knows. The world sucks and I'm giving it the finger in every damn way, exceptβ¦
Except there's a girl. Pretty. Hot. Clever. She didn't get the memoβthat she should hate me, shun me, kick me when I'm down. That the world screwed us all over. She believes in the futureβand sometimes she seems to even believe in me.
Big mistake. I'm bad news. I made her suffer in the past, and nothing has changed. I'm not an angel, not a saint. No good.
But for some reason I don't get, I can't let her go down with me. I find myself trying to be better for her, pretending to be someone I'm not.
And if that doesn't ring some damn big alarm bells regarding my sanity, well⦠then I'm done already.
*This is a standalone full-length novel in the Wild Men universe that began with Caveman.*
π SIMILAR VOLUMES
**A young adult, fictional reimagining of Truman Capote's *In Cold Blood* and the brutal murders that inspired it. Gripping and fast-paced, this meticulously researched historical fiction will reinvigorate a new generation to Capote.** November is usually quiet in Holcomb, Kansas, but in 1959, the
Ivan Klima has been acclaimed by The Boston Globe as "a literary gem who is too little appreciated in the West" and a "Czech master at the top of his game." In No Saints or Angels, a Washington Post Best Book of 2001, Klima takes us into the heart of contemporary Prague, where the Communist People's
**Meet the infamous Ross, black sheep of the family and bully extraordinaire.** I drink too much, smoke too much, screw around. I've hurt people, been in and out of prison. I'm a bastard, a beast. I'm a bundle of joy. I mean, my own dad tried to kill me, what does that tell you? Then again, my da
FROM Retirement, an Ode : "JOY, ROSE-LIPPED DRYAD, LOVES TO DWELL" / THOMAS WARTON THE ELDER (1688-1745) -- A Toast / JOHN BYROM (1692-1763) -- On a Fly Drinking Out of His Cup / WILLIAM OLDYS (1696-1761) -- FROM The Grave : "SEE YONDER HALLOWED FANE, THE PIOUS WORK" / ROBERT BLAIR (1699-1746) -- FR
"We call you Saint." The name ignited a light in Carl's mind. Saint. He'd been covertly recruited for Black Ops and given his life to the most brutal kind of training any man or woman could endure. He was here because he belonged here. To the X Group. An assasin. The most effective killer in the w