The Sinner Read Online Shantel Tessier

Categories Genre: BDSM, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)

An all-new dark standalone romance from the USA Today & Wall Street Journal bestselling author, Shantel Tessier


I was raised in a world where money and power are at your fingertips. My father is a LORD, a very respected member of a secret society that knows no bounds. When tragedy struck my family, we discovered we weren’t untouchable. Just when I thought life couldn’t get any worse, I was shown what hell is really like. Then he came and saved me. The devil disguised as my personal hero. But of course, nothing is for free. Not when a soul is up for grabs.


Easton Bradley Sinnett—Sin—uses his power for his own sick pleasure. Like a typical Lord, he never thought about the consequences of his actions. I grew up with him, obsessed over him, craved him. He was who I pictured when I imagined doing things my body shouldn’t want.

One day, I realized he was not who I thought he was. It didn’t change anything, though, because I was already too far gone. If anything, I fell for him harder.

Every now and then, someone enters your life who flips it upside down. Sin wrecked me in the worst way, and I thanked him for it by serving on my knees.

As they say, nothing lasts forever. Men like him never stay with a woman like me. I’m what they use, not keep. So when he threw me away, I shouldn’t have been all that surprised.

My body had always craved the darker side of love. The kind that left bruises and scars. I was what most would call unholy. And when the devil whispered in my ear that he loved me, I was more than determined to show him just how devoted I could be.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************


“Sick” by Adelitas Way

“Gasoline” by Halsey

“Thank You for Hating Me” by Citizen Soldier

“DARKSIDE” by Neoni

“I Hate everything About You” by Three Days Grace

“Lilith” by Ellise

“Pray” by Xana



A LORD TAKES his oath seriously. Only blood will solidify their commitment to serve those who demand their complete devotion.

He is a Leader, believes in Order, knows when to Rule, and is a Deity.

A Lord must be initiated in order to become a member but can be removed at any time for any reason. If he makes it past the three trials of initiation, he will forever know power and wealth. But not all Lords are built the same. Some are stronger, smarter, hungrier than others.

They are challenged just to see how far their loyalty will go.

They are pushed to their limits in order to prove their devotion.

They are willing to show their commitment.

Nothing except their life will suffice.

Limits will be tested, and morals forgotten.

A Lord can be a judge, jury, and executioner. He holds power that is unmatched by anyone other than his brother.

Chosen one:

A Lord must remain celibate during his first three years at Barrington University. Once he is initiated into the Lords, he is gifted a chosen for his senior year.

A Lady: After they graduate from Barrington, they are to marry a Lady—a wife to serve him. If he shall die before her, she is then gifted to another Lord to ensure the secrets are kept within the secret society.






I SIT STRAIGHT up as I hear my bedroom door bang against the wall. The lights are flipped on, making me squint at the harsh brightness. Men’s voices are screaming at the top of their lungs, but the words they’re saying don’t register in my foggy mind.

Hands grab at my body, and my adrenaline immediately kicks in. I punch aimlessly, my body now wide awake and aware that men are in my room. I hit a face, making one of them grunt. I hit another body part, making another curse.

But there are too many of them. I’m yanked off my bed and fall face-first onto the floor. A knee is shoved into my back, and my arms are yanked behind me. “Get the fuck off me,” I shout before something is shoved over my head, effectively taking away my sight.

My heavy breathing fills the hot and heavy hood.

I roll over onto my back. Kicking my feet aimlessly, I try to make contact with anything I can. But something heavy presses down on my chest, and I feel a prick in my neck. My body instantly betrays me as it goes limp on my floor. The last thing I feel is something being wrapped around my ankles when my eyes roll into the back of my head.


I OPEN MY heavy eyes, having to blink several times before they focus. My head is foggy, my body sluggish. They drugged me. It takes me a few seconds to see I’m in a room with other men—fellow Lords who are being initiated.

I only count three. The rest must have been taken somewhere else for a different type of initiation. Rumors are, they like to break us up. That way we’re not all aware of what goes on. What we’re expected to do. Some are challenged more than others. It’s to weed out the weak from the strong.

This is a part of our journey to rule the world. If you want to be a man, then you take one’s life. My father once told me that when he came home covered in blood, pistol in hand.

Growing up, I always thought we were different. But that night solidified my suspicions. I was twelve when I found out he was a Lord, and I’d one day get the chance to be one as well.

You’d be surprised what a man will do to survive, Easton, he added when I questioned how he could take a man’s life and then go about his day like it didn’t happen.

“Welcome, brothers,” Lincoln calls out from behind me. “This is the beginning of your journey. Your first assignment, gentlemen. If you do not complete it, you will not receive another.”

Translation—if we don’t kill our target, we’re out. And you don’t want to be stripped of your Lord title. They won’t kill you, but you’ll always be looking over your shoulder with the possibility.

The point of being a Lord is to do their dirty work for them. There are millions of us throughout the world. You become a Lord after three years of initiation, and if you go against your oath, you’re killed.

A man is shoved into the room with his hands tied behind his back and a hood over his head. His dirty clothes are covered in blood and filth.

“Gentlemen.” Lincoln comes up behind him. “Who would like to show us how it’s done?” he asks.