El Santo (Saint-Sinner #1)
M. Robinson
To Simon (Argie Sokoli)…
I. Love. You.
Boss man: Words cannot describe how much I love you. Thank you for ALWAYS being my best friend. I couldn’t do this without you.
Dad: Thank you for always showing me what hard work is and what it can accomplish. For always telling me that I can do anything I put my mind to.
Mom: Thank you for ALWAYS being there for me no matter what. You are my best friend.
Julissa Rios: I love you and I am proud of you. Thank you for being a pain in my ass and for being my sister. I know you are always there for me when I need you.
Ysabelle & Gianna: Love you my babies.
Rebecca Marie: THANK YOU for an AMAZING cover. I wouldn’t know what to do without you and your fabulous creativity.
Heather Moss: Thank you for everything that you do!! I wouldn’t know what to do without you! You’re. The. Best. PA. Ever!! You’re NEVER leaving me!! XO
Silla Webb: Thank you so much for your edits and formatting! I love it and you!
Erin Noelle: Thank you for everything you do!
Enrico Ravenna: Thank you for being the perfect muse.
Noemi Rivera: Thank you for your amazing photography.
Michelle Tan: Best beta ever! Argie Sokoli: I couldn’t do this without you. You’re my chosen person. Tammy McGowan: I love you!! You have been wit me for so long and I couldn’t be more grateful for you. Michele Henderson McMullen: LOVE LOVE LOVE you!! Carrie Waltenbaugh: Thank you so much for your honesty. Alison Evan-Maxwell: Thank you for coming in last minute and getting it done like a boss. Ewelina Rutyna: I love you! Mary Jo Toth: Your boo-boos are always great! Thank you for everything you do in VIP! Ella Gram: You’re such a sweet and amazing person! Thank you for your kindness. Tricia Bartley: Your comments and voice always make me smile! Kristi Lynn: Thanks for all your honesty and for joining team M. Pam Batchelor: Thanks for all your suggestions. Susan Pearson: You are amazing with the honesty! Patti Correa: You’re amazing! Thank you for everything! Jennifer Pon: Thank you for all your feedback and suggestions! You’re amazing! Nicola Spears: So much love for you!! Maria Naylet: I love you to the moon and back. Deborah E Shipuleski: Thank you for all your quick honest feedback! Kaye Blanchard: Thank you for wanting to join team M! KR Nadelson: I love you! Mel LuvstooRead: Thank you so much for everything! You helped so much! Lily Garcia: I love you! Allison East: Thank you! Louisa Brandenburger Michelle Chambers, Aidee Cruz, Bernadett Lankovits, , Sheila Marie, Leeann Kidson Van Rensburg, Stacy Foster, Betty Lankovits, Emma Louise, Jessica Laws, Lisa Ward, Lily Garcia, Nicole Erard: Thank you for every laugh, every smile and every single day that you have been my muffin!!
ALL MY VIPS!!!
To all my author buddies: Jettie Woodruff: You complete me.
Erin Noelle: I. Love. You!
To all the bloggers: A HUGE THANK YOU for all the love and support you have shown me. I have made some amazing friendships with you that I hold dear to my heart. I know that without you I would be nothing!! I cannot THANK YOU enough!! Special thanks to Like A Boss Book Promotions for hosting my tours!
Last but not least.
YOU.
My readers.
THANK YOU!!
Without you…
I would be nothing..
I’m going to tell you a story.
It’s dark.
It’s brutal.
It’s fucking real.
In order to understand my present, who I am, and what I’ve become…
You need to understand my past.
Evil doesn’t always hide in the shadows, in the darkness. Most of the time, it’s out in the open, in plain fucking sight. Possessing the man you’d least expect. You see, I never imagined another life until I made one for myself. By that time, I was too far-gone, engulfed in nothing but pitch black darkness. Exactly the way it was meant to be.
No one could touch me.
No one fucked with me.
I. Was. Invincible.
Nothing more…
Nothing less.
When I dreamed of true love—of soul mates, my other half, of her—the cruelty of my life would snap me back into my reality, making it just that, a dream. One that could easily turn into a nightmare.
My worst fucking nightmare.
Every memory, the good, the bad, the in between. All the I love yous, every last I fucking hate you, her heart and soul that I’d broken, shattered and destroyed along the years belonged to me.
Her pleasure.
Her pain.
It was all a part of me, carved so fucking deep into my skin where she would forever be engraved. My story is going to make you fucking hate me as much as she does, but I want you to. I’m not looking for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it like I don’t deserve hers.
I’m far from the hero in this story.
I’m closer to the villain.
Except, I’m far worse.
I’m the fucking monster.
And, I’m perfectly alright with that.
I dare you to try to love me…
Like she did and probably still does.
Don’t say, I didn’t warn you.
I gripped my .223 Remington rifle, holding it firmly in my fucking grasp. Feeling the grain of the wood resting securely beneath my fingertips. I was locked and fucking loaded, completely focused on what I had to do next. Tuning out everything around me, waiting for the moment to take my shot. A powerful emotion, one I couldn’t begin to describe, immediately washed over me. I felt it deep down to the roots of my core.
I was a man.
A man leading the fucking convoy.
Exactly how our fearless dictator, Emilio Salazar, had done thirty-nine years ago.
“Compa?eros, compa?eros, queridos, compa?eros,” he announced, taking his place behind the podium on the stage. Silencing the large, open outdoor stadium where thousands upon thousands of his socialist countrymen were in attendance. Including my father—who was Salazar’s right-hand man—and myself.
The crowd stared up at the makeshift stage located in front of the massive yellow concrete building marred with bullet holes and Cuban flags. Taking in every last word that fell from our beloved dictator’s lips with wide, eyes, like they always did. Listening intently as he declared this day, July 26th, 1992, the thirty-ninth anniversary of his first monumental attack on the second largest military facility in Santiago de Cuba: the Moncada Barracks. The same exact yellow structure that towered behind us now.
I stood there with pride and honor, wearing military fatigues identical to the ones Salazar wore back on that day. Strategically placing my black combat boots in the same spot he stood when he began his revolutionary movement. I knew it then as much as I had known it in my last eighteen years of life. I wanted everything he had.
The respect.
The power.
The control.
Admiring the leader who almost four decades ago had organized his own military coup alongside a hundred and thirty-five other radicals. Making his presence fucking known.