The Control by Elena Monroe (The 4Horsemen #4)
Genre: Dark Forbidden Love Romance
Cover Design: Maria, Steamy Reads
Release Date: May 4, 2021
My demons will ruin whatever is left of her halo.
I was living on borrowed everything: time, feelings, motives, even these stale breaths.
I was expired in every way.
No saving me.
He should have lived instead.
He deserved to squeeze every drop out of life and rub it in my face the way he always did.
I was stuck here as half of a person and Eve expected me to be whole enough to fix her.
We were too shattered to ever be put back together again.
I was her demon.
I was wasting every second of every day trying to make time move faster.
I was ready to throw away this life as the Princess of Denmark and go back home where Bowen would be waiting for me. There was no stopping me.
I had been promised to Bowen since our births.
I was determined to save myself for him and only him – my life line.
I may be bruised and broken but that only dirtied up my angel wings.
Nothing he couldn’t handle.
I would always be his angel.
I should have given him the truth. Anything but the silence lurking inside my mouth making me mute.
Just as I pulled the band away from his body his grip crushed my small hands so hard I felt myself wince. “We aren’t doing that here… I don’t need your pity,” his words might as well have been venom.
It was well-deserved, my body screamed: use me to bury the pain and my eyes were glazed over in sympathy.
“Bowen…” I was trying to slice through the immediate anger cocooning him when his grip didn’t let up, holding my hands still too tightly.
He looked down on me like I personally insulted him in less redeemable ways. “It doesn’t matter how damaged you are when you look at me like that. It would have been easier to just sit pretty and be the wife I don’t want. No demons except me. Now there is nothing holding me back from making sure that fake halo is replaced with horns.”
Standing up right instead of looking down at me like a silly girl who couldn’t handle his demons, his fists clenched making the wraps get even more taunt around his hands.
My mouth was still gaping open but no syllables or sounds came out. Not one word while I watched him square up to the bag hanging in its place. “You always wanted to match.”
My eyes stung with tears and I felt myself suck in my bottom lip like it was the key to holding back tears.
Hitting a small remote in his pocket music flooded his home gym, too loud to think or talk anymore.
Bowen’s fist drove into the bag over and over making me flinch every time. I pushed him to be someone to me and didn’t take into account how askewed how my expectations were.
My expectations were soul crushing.
My expectations were selfish.
My expectations disregarded trauma altogether.
I mumbled a quick sorry around my trembling bottom lip hoping that would suffice.
Few steps forward and ten back seemed to be the dance with the devil. He promised to fuck my halo into horns and now I felt overwhelmed by the need to be just as broken as him.
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The Initiation (Book 1):
LA wasn’t home… just home for now.
Transplanted here to model I learned Hollywood isn’t where dreams survive the harsh reality of millions all sharing that same dream.
Executive assistant is who I am now.
Hollywood’s darling took a liking to me. One not easily ignored when they give you a taste of the high life.
I was supposed to give up hope and give in to LA’s bad reputation but I had rules.
Well, just one: read the rules before you break them.
Unwilling to abandon all my morals, the filter came off my life to see the world I was one foot in was invitation only…
I’m not sure I was ever really Jason.
Whoever he was, was a distant memory now.
Grimm is who I am now.
I abandoned my birth name, companionship, happiness that wasn’t shaped like Xanax all because I was expected to be the kind of elite that pulls the strings.
Pull the strings but follow the rules.
No serious relationships.
Keep what we do secret.
Born into a rite I didn’t ask for, a society of puppeteers.
An invitation I marked not attending…
The Test (Book 2):
I woke up to my roommate and best friend missing. In her place was a note on my bedside table that read: You can only find me with your eyes closed.
No one thinks a note like that is meant for them.
I knew it was meant for me, a clue, a way to seek Justice.
Whoever left me that note was hoping I didn’t let my parent’s legacy die when they did. They wanted to see what kind of warfare I was capable of.
Justice before starting a war with the man who wrote the rule book…
I woke up everyday to the same nonsensical bullshit that was my life.
They say only bad things only happen after dark but I was the exception to every rule. I was bad and I happened whenever I wanted.
I wanted someone to challenge me, put me in my place, force me to be better than war strategies and hold the audacity to traipse across enemy lines.
A pink haired receptionist wasn’t my first choice for shaking my resolve.
I can still smell her but I wanted to know if she’d taste like Victory.
Death before dishonor meant not losing to her…
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The Sacrifice (Book 3):
I’m not living under any kind of false pretenses here. I know I’m basically a rapper’s attitude with R&B feelings and a pop star’s bank account.
There were a lot of ways to describe my unconventional lifestyle of part time cult member and full time showman.
And my personal favorite adjective: undomesticated.
I surrounded myself with people who liked a good time but left after they served their purpose of making sure I felt nothing but top shelf feelings.
I wasn’t about to be like my brothers who let the darkness eat away at their vindication. The only crime I had ever committed was waving the glory of being invited, of saying I came and conquered around like a badge of honor.
Spoiler alert: None of that earned me respect.
There’s only one girl who managed to rob me of my fake smile… and my watch.
I was a throw away, street trash, a child abandoned and scooped up by the bad people you only hear about after they get caught.
I was hard in a way people found uncomfortable and determined too much work to rehabilitate into society again. I was found guilty over and over enough to let the bad things become who I am, blurring the lines between freedom and a jail sentence.
And my least favorite: fake girlfriend to a scary ass kingpin.
Forced out of a childhood I was surrounded by darkness, evil, and the kind of cutthroat loyalty that landed your body so mutilated they wouldn’t be able to tell who you were if you fell out of obedience.
They accepted me like family and there’s no quitting your family.
I had the respect to match my rap sheet.
There’s only one guy who managed to exonerate me… and my invisible wings.
Elena Monroe grew up in Florida scribbling down stories from a very young age. These stories were really just wavy lines filling the paper, but she knew each word, each emotion, each character’s name, and there was no tricking her into forgetting what each line signified. Just like her unconventional way of writing as a toddler Elena is setting her own rules and just telling stories.
Much like her debut novel, The Best Years, life certainly imitated art. Transplanting from the South to the East Coast, Elena currently lives in Connecticut with husband, reformed bad boy.