This dark and depraved story is going to melt your soul.
There are toxic romances, and then there is Niko and Meraki. This MC mafia romance pushed me out of my comfort zone in a big way. How could I have waited this long to read Amo? I love her razor-sharp writing style and super gritty characters. I’ve heard about her books for years, and I finally decided to pop my Amo cherry and read Antichrist. I cannot believe I didn’t read Amo Jones until NOW. Holy hell this book is 110% dark and twisted Kindle Crack! Review of Antichrist Antichrist by Amo Jones **Antichrist is not a retelling of Hunchback of Notre Dame, there are slight nods here and there toward the original tale. Please check triggers if you think you may need to. It started with a bond that destroyed everyone around them… So when he rips away the walls she built around herself with his bare teeth, the secrets that she has so fiercely hidden away all of these years suddenly bleed onto the four unmarked graves laid out in front of his steel-cap boots… Niko fights for what’s his, and he’s only ever claimed one person in his life-Meraki. When the president of the New York chapter of the Seven Knights MC dies, he passes the gavel down to Niko… but unknown to anyone else, that’s not the only thing he left him. Niko knew her inside and out, and if he saw even a smidge of her soul, he would see that she was no longer the girl he left behind… She burned with her demons instead of running from them, but when Niko Davis rode back into town with a bag full of secrets, she knew she would The one that everyone thought she did, and the one she worked hard to hide. He steals hearts from all around the world, but one night, he stole something that wasn’t his to steal. Love was my anchor, destruction was the water that was drowning me, and the rope that was so tightly clamped around my ankles, was woven with the lyrics of Aeron Romanov-Reed, also known as, 'Manik. You can’t pull them up from the ocean when they’ve latched themselves to an anchor. You can’t save people who don’t want to be saved. One fateful night set off a chain of events, events that no one was coming back from. My strain wasn’t rap, and it sure wasn’t laced with some A-class shit like murky blue eyes casted down from the Lord and the Devil’s handcrafted smile. The sound of cigar smoke, bourbon and an old dusty fedora hat. The smooth instrumental strums that take over me. It’s the drug we all damper in, only different strains. Depending on what you choose to listen to, would depend on what it touches. I love music, and how it stirs even the deepest and untouched parts of your soul. I live a low-key life, fresh out of college and drifting from town to town until I find my home.
’m Beatrice Kennedy, but everyone calls me Beat.
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