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AFTERWORD
Thank you for reading my novel,Falling for the Devil. I really hope you enjoyed it! If you did, could you please be so kind to write a review HERE?
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HELLBOUND HEARTS
Book#1
Dancing for the Devil
Book#2 (this book)
Falling for the Devil
DO YOU WANT MORE ROMANCE?
Turn on the next page to read the first chapters of my latest best-selling novel:Make Me a Sinner
Pietro’s absence leaves an aching void in our home, urging me to find out why he ran. Sal’s arrival ignites a fiery passion within me, but his possessive touch masks his hidden torment. Sal offers to help me unveil the secrets of Pietro’s dark legacy, but the truth that emerges devastates me. Sal’s vendetta could jeopardize everything I have worked for. And I might not survive the truth.
MAKE ME A SINNER
Chapter One
MARY
The Bensons were many things, but quiet was not one of them.
I crashed through mom’s door, carrying a dish of wedged potatoes that was just a little too hot to be holding with my bare hands, as my red hair whipped into tangles from the wind.
I felt like a mess—and I looked one too. I certainly didn’t look like a fashion school graduate.
I shouted out an ‘I’m here!’ into the house, dropping the potatoes -almost literally- onto the table in the foyer.
I expected mom to come around the corner with her oven mitt on, smiling at me and telling me to get in there, or to hear my brother hollering from the dining room about how late I was. A part of me still expected to get swept up into my dad’s bear hug, even though it had been almost four years now.
Instead, the house was silent, and the minute I realized it my spine tingled with apprehension.
It had been a difficult day.
The magazine had me writing an incredibly boring article on the miraculous powers of a liquid dish soap.
I had taken a journalism course in college alongside my fashion design major in the hope that I could work for a prestigious fashion magazine whilst designing my own line of clothes one day. I had yet to write an actual fashion article, no matter how hard I tried, and none of the fashion magazines in the area were hiring. Or at least, they weren’t hiring me.
I’d ended up needing a hot shower to destress, but it stopped being soothing the minute I stepped out and caught sight of the clock.
I’d lost track of time and had only thirty minutes to get ready for the Benson Monthly Family Dinner (trademark pending).
Those thirty minutes were a whirlwind of me dodging from one end of my room to the other, trying desperately to put myself together enough to convince mom and Pietro I was doing alright.
