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 f*cked. 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 f**kery, the WHAT THE F**KING F**K 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 f**ked. It will most likely stomp all the f**k over people’s hard limits (and not give a sh*t 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……….
Amo Jones is back with another twisted story full of secrets and lies and danger and hot, dangerous boys.
Jones warns the reader that this is not all sweet and happy. It is far from it. These kids are crazy, twisted and involved in some crazy shit. There are secrets galore and trust me when I say, you will be on the edge of your seat to the very end. But, here’s the thing. We read because we want to suspend reality and get lost in the fiction, right? You don’t want to read a mundane book about mundane over-privileged teenagers. Nope. And that is not what you get here.
Let me tell you what you do get – a group of over-privileged, untouchable teenagers, secrets, so many secrets, a secret society, danger, lies, and sex. A whole lot of sex. All of that comes together to provide a crazy story I couldn’t put down.
“Nate?” I whisper. “Maybe I took a wrong turn.”
“Nate!” I yell down the phone. “This isn’t funny.”
“I’m not laughing, sis. Keep going, we can see your headlights.” What am I doing? I’m basically relying on the fact that Nate and I had bonded a little and that both our parents are together. I’m not sure those facts are worth my life. No, he wouldn’t. I’m just being paranoid. The only time, except for school, where I didn’t bring my fucking pistol either. I sag in defeat. My dad will not be impressed with my not carrying, and my mom will no doubt be screaming at me from the other side about how these are the reasons why she and my dad educated me so much on firearms. I’ve failed as a fucking daughter. I shuffle up in my seat.
“Nate, I don’t fucking see anything up here but ja—OMG!” I slam on the breaks, all four tires locking up in a skid. I squeeze the steering wheel tightly, banging down the locks on the doors. “Nate!” I yell into the phone.
Slowly, I look up out the front windscreen, the thick dust from my tires interrupting the loose gravel still floating in the air and that’s when I see it again.
Ten dark hoodies covering their faces.
Ten—“Nate..” understanding sets in. Ten.
Slamming the gear into reverse, I’m just about to floor it backwards—to hell with anything or anyone behind me—when my driver’s window smashes into a million pieces, the tiny shards of glass falling onto my lap. I scream, my hands coming up to shield my face just as an arm slips inside and pops up the lock.
A deep menacing chuckle breathes over the back of my neck just as a leather gloved hand wraps around my mouth and pulls me out of the car. “Hello Madison. You don’t know us, but we know you. We want to play a game. Here’s what happens if you lose…”
Amo is a full-time writer from New Zealand who loves long romantic walks to the wine cellar.
She loves to write like how she lives, hanging on the edge of insanity with a wine glass in one hand and her morals-or lack thereof- in the other.
Those are not my monkeys, I swear….
Oh those hellhounds? Yeah, those are mine.