{Review} Sinner's Creed (Sinner's Creed MC #1) by Kim Jones (@AuthorKimJones @BerkleyRomance)

First in a new series—welcome to the Sinner’s Creed Motorcycle Club, where hard bodies and hot leather are made for each other, and love gone wrong is the most irresistible of all...
 
“I was the demon-possessed monster and she was the innocent, naïve angel. But none of that matters. She asks, I give and right now, I'll kill anyone who tries to stop me from giving this woman what she wants—me.” 
 
Dirk lives in the shadows—performing hits, maintaining order, and upholding the no-holds-barred legacy of the Sinner’s Creed Motorcycle Club. A nomad with a restless spirit and a cold heart, the open road is his world. One of the few constants in his life: his desire for the one woman who has consumed his thoughts for years.
 
Saylor Samson grew up far from the harshness of Dirk’s world. But ever since she was seventeen she’s been drawn to this dark and mysterious man who always seemed to show up just when she needed him. 
 
After years of fated encounters, he’s back. This time he’s taking her. This time she’s ready for the ride. But just when the darkness in Dirk’s life begins to fade, Saylor reveals a secret that puts them both to the ultimate test. Now, Dirk has to make a decision: submit to his destiny with the MC, or choose his own.

​Saylor Samson can’t remember when she didn’t long for the mysterious biker from Sinner’s Creed MC to take her away.  Like a dark angel, he always seemed to know exactly when she needed to be saved and then he would be gone with the sunrise.
 
But this time is different. This time she’s going to ask him to take her away  - far away from her sleepy small town and far away from the constant remainder that life is fleeting.

​“I try to remember what life was like before she slept with me every night, and what I recall is a little disturbing. In five years, there has never been a woman who I didn’t compare to Saylor. There has never been a night when I didn’t see her face in my dreams. And the more I remember, the more I realize these feelings aren’t as foreign as I thought— now they are just real.”

​Dirk always wanted Saylor with a hunger that he could never surrender to.  He’s a Nomad – a killer – and he’s not putting her in the same danger that he lives with everyday.
 
But she calls to him like the sweet siren that she is and for the first time – he actually feels like he has a soul.  So he’s going to put her on the back of his bike and they are going to ride through it together.  He’s prepared to protect her at any cost – and no price will ever be too high.

​“That diamond-shaped 1% patch I wear stands for something. It signifies that I am a part of the 1 percent of bikers that are outlaws. The 1 percent that isn’t afraid of breaking the rules. The 1 percent that serves as their own judge and jury. And that patch is worn over my heart, serving as the only thing that’s kept me alive, even when I felt broken inside. Everyone good in this world has a heart that pumps blood, and mine pumped venom. Until now. Now it is full, whole, and completely filled with everything Saylor Samson.”

​With Sinner’s Creed, Kim Jones has forged a new brand of MC romance.  It’s highly emotional and stunningly raw in both its beauty and its pain. With an almost meditative feel, her words tear at the very fabric of your soul while reminding you that love has the power to heal even the most broken of hearts.
 
I literally wept uncontrollably while reading the last 100 pages and that’s just one of the reasons why this book goes straight to the top of my list for 2016…

Exclusive Excerpt - 

I fucking hate this place. I don’t know why I torture myself by coming back here. I should have burned it down a long time ago. I grab my bags from outside and when the cool night air hits me, it helps to release some of the pressure in my chest. When I walk back in, it returns.

I lock the door, then pull two pillows and a blanket from the tote and throw them on the now fully inflated mattress. The house is cool, even without air-conditioning. The weather has been in the fifties at night, and the large trees that surround the house help to shade it from the sun. Tomorrow, I will probably have to plug in a window unit. The lack of insulation keeps the house about the same temperature as it is outside.

I’m undressed and just before climbing under the covers when I notice Saylor laying on the couch, sound asleep. How the fuck did I forget she was here? When my eyes land on her face, everything else disappears. My memories don’t matter. This house don’t matter. Black . . . He don’t fucking matter either. Only her. Saylor Samson.

Her shirt is raised, making the lower part of her stomach visible, including her belly button that I have an urge to kiss. So I do. I place my lips on her stomach, the heat of her flesh burning them. I turn to look down her crossed legs, all the way to the tip of her boots that are covered in dust. I don’t know what I want more—to stand here and just stare at her fully clothed, or get her naked and hold her in my arms.

The battle is quickly won and I start by taking off her boots, then remove her socks and kiss her pink-painted toes one by one. I pull her jeans down her legs, kissing every inch of skin bared to me. She hasn’t stirred, and I know she can’t enjoy this while she is sleeping, but that’s not why I’m doing it. I’m doing it because I like the way her skin feels on my lips. I want to cherish every part of her, and I know it’s not just because I care about her. It’s more, but I still can’t make out the word in my head.

I kiss her hands, up her arms, across her collarbone, up her throat, her chin, her cheeks, her eyes, her nose, and then her parted lips. I carry her to the mattress, folding her into my chest and inhale her hair that still smells like her. Not a smoky bar, not perfume or hairspray, just her. I’m almost asleep. I’m in the hell hole I grew up in, and there isn’t a bad thought around. My mind is peaceful, my arms are full, and my heart is filled with something. That nameless emotion that I’ve never felt.

“Dirk?”

“Yes.” My voice is a hoarse whisper, and I feel her shiver when I place my lips on her head. What seems like forever passes before she answers. When she does, her voice is the same whisper, but this time it’s filled with conviction.
​
“I think I’m falling in love with you.” And just like that, my nameless emotion finally has a name.

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