Fire burns the worst sins. Trust is overrated. Killing for pleasure is messy, bloody, chaotic... He was supposed to die. But now I have him where I want him, I can’t help but taste him a little. All of them. They've gotten under my skin. These Sacred Hearts boys. The way they look at me, a need, a hunger clawing inside, I recognize it in the mirror. It’s their eyes. They tell me they don't give a fuck if they live or die. That I’m the prey and they're the carnivores. That they're soulless. But in the end, they all beg. Violent, bloody, and raw. Because I’m the real monster. They just don’t know it yet. Publisher Note: A History of Violence is a dark RH serial killer bully romance, intended for mature readers, containing material that some may find triggering or offensive.

Lust fuels the worst evil. Love is overrated. Killing for retribution is everything I’ve ever wanted... They’re all going to die. Those who have sinned will know it. Sorrow. I’ll carve it in their bloody hearts if I have to. I can’t help it. This is who I am. Their angel of death My boys…they think they know me. Think they have me tamed. That they can handle me and then walk away. They’re wrong. The way they look at me, desire me, dream of me, is a weakness. One I’ll play upon. Even if it means I have to hurt them too. We’re deep in this game, there’s no getting out. Because in the end, they all lie. Dark, cruel, and callous. The real monster is coming. We just don’t know it yet.

Blood hides carnal desires. Power is overrated. Killing for family, tainted with nothing but love... My emotions are supposed to be dead. I was never meant to feel this. Pain. Anger. Rage. Feelings erode me from the inside. They make me weak. They make him more powerful. But I can't lose. Dante is my sweetness in hell. My father has me where he wants me. And my boys...well they think I'm all but lost. They're right. I'm not the same Angel of Death they knew before and desired. I'm losing control one promise at a time. I'm spiraling, de-evolving, turning into him. But in the end, I need no one. Pain, torture, and torment. Is the only way to be monstrous. I've known it all along. Haven't you?

Death isn’t the end. Surrender is overrated. Killing for love is the only cure… I fear nothing, no one. Not even the boys who loved me that I lost. Dead. Buried. Gone. One by one. I am alone. I need to be stronger. I have to evolve If I’m to survive. If I’m going to save us all. Jude is my rock. Lorcan is my faith. Dante is my blade. Dino was the light to my darkness. And me…I’m the monster who comes in the night. I’m the bitch back from hell to make you weep. My father will know it when I slice him and every last one of his sinners into pretty ribbons for what they did to me… To my family. And in the end, they will beg. Love, honor, and obey. Not f\*cking likely. I’d rather slaughter them all.

A Violent Agenda: The Complete Series contains the following books: \- A History of Violence: A Violent Agenda Book One \- A Legacy of Sorrow: A Violent Agenda Book Two \- A Promise of Torment: A Violent Agenda Book Three \- A Destiny of Carnage: A Violent Agenda Book Four Fire burns the worst sins. Trust is overrated. Killing for pleasure is messy, bloody, chaotic... He was supposed to die. But now I have him where I want him, I can’t help but taste him a little. All of them. They've gotten under my skin. These Sacred Heart boys. The way they look at me, a need, a hunger clawing inside, I recognize it in the mirror. It’s their eyes. They tell me they don't give a fuck if they live or die. That I’m the prey and they're the carnivores. That they're soulless. But in the end, they all beg. Violent, bloody, and raw. Because I’m the real monster. They just don’t know it yet.