Are There Any Reviews For The Sketch Artist Novel?

⚠️ WARNING: THIS IS THE ART OF SINS. If you’re looking for sweet kisses and gentle lovemaking, slam this book shut right now. These pages don’t whisper desire—they drag you by the throat, rip your clothes off, and fuck you senseless. Expect raw, filthy, no-limits taboo erotica: step-daddy claiming his little secret, ruthless alphas knotting and breeding their omega, mafia underbosses turning debt into dripping gangbangs, professors punishing their forbidden pets, and every dirty, degrading, creampie-soaked fantasy you were never supposed to want. This is sin as high art—rough, relentless, and completely addictive. 18+ only. Proceed if you dare to get ruined.😈💦

I was the girl no one noticed. Until I opened File Case No. 0001. Azrael Atlas St. Claire. They call him “The Architect.” A ghost. A cold-blooded killer. A man so dangerous the FBI can’t touch. His death would shatter the economy. Rival syndicates would burn the city to kill him. He has no weakness. Then he found me. He appeared in my archive and vanished without a trace. The next morning, gifts started appearing on my nightstand. First, a bullet coated in dried blood. Second, ten fingers belonging to the man who touched me. He watched. Followed. Stalked my every move. Then one night, he came through my window. He took what he wanted while I floated in haze. I woke up sore, terrified…and craving for more—needing for more. The FBI saw a fracture in me, and decided to weaponize it. They wired me. Made me their spy with a promised I’d be safe if I helped them cage the monster. Yet, at the first sign of blood, they ran. Leaved me in chaos. He stayed. Now, I lived in his world. My mother thinks the lawyer at her table is a kind stranger. She didn’t feel his hand between my thighs underneath. She doesn’t know he’s been sculpting my life for years, long before we ever met. The FBI wants me to betray him. His enemies want me dead for revenge. But the monster who stole my life? He’s the only one who ever truly saw me. And I’m starting to wonder if that makes me just as dangerous as him. They say there’s a line between the victim and the villain. I don’t think I’m on the right side anymore.

I have two rules for surviving college, Stay out of his way. Don't let him see you. But Massimo Bianchi doesn't follow rules-he makes them. The heir to the Bianchi Empire, a man with a dark past and a reputation that chills the blood, Massimo doesn't play nice. And for some reason, he's decided I'm his favourite game. He's ruthless, arrogant, and impossible to ignore, even if I try. I should stay away. I should hate him. But the more I try to escape him, the deeper he pulls me into his dangerous world. The more I hate him, the more he seduces me with his cold smile, his calculating gaze, and his twisted games. I'm not supposed to want him. I'm supposed to keep my distance, keep my secrets, keep my heart locked away. But when the devil himself comes knocking, there's no escape. Not from him. Not from the desire that burns through my every nerve. And the worst part? I think he knows it.

𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. 𝗙𝗶𝗳𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗿𝘀. 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗜 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 I’𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻. ——— ꧁ Marisella ꧂ – “Stop protecting me from a life I’ve already been living… without you.” 𖤓 Alexei 𖤓 – “I didn’t survive the Bratva just to let you destroy yourself.” ——— Marisella is drowning. To save her dying mother, she takes a desperate gamble—one night as a high-end escort. She expected a faceless stranger, but she found a monster. Alexei left as a sickly boy and returned a lethal Bratva assassin—hardened, wealthy, and dangerous. When he accepts a "replacement" for the night, the last person he expects to see in red spandex is the girl he was supposed to protect. His stepsister. The discovery ignites a firestorm of fury and forbidden desire. But as the Bratva’s debts come due, the lines between protector and predator blur. Alexei is determined to keep his hands off her to save his soul, but Marisella is no longer a child. She’s found the only thing more dangerous than the men hunting them: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗯𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝘂𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗿. 🔥 ——— Tags / Themes: • Forbidden Romance • Dark Romance / Mafia-lite • Guardian / Protector • Secret Provider • Forced Proximity #Stepbrother #Mafia #BDSM #Possessive #HiddenIdentity 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️

"I am a monster, Miss Hart. You wouldn't want nor wish to see me..." He is mysterious and brilliant, wealthy and prominent, but no single soul has seen him in person. Well, no one should see him—that's one of his many rules. No one can touch him either; that's another rule. Except for me because I have broken every rule. Now I'm extremely drawn to him. His peculiarity is out of this world, and his beauty is beyond physical. But the Master has demons of his own and is being chased by his brutal past. Suddenly, we've become the reflection of each other's nightmares. I realize that the Master and I are not so different. Is this newly found bond just another uncertain fate that could deepen our wounds, or is it finally going to be our redemption?

I fell in love with a cold, taciturn tattoo artist named Henry Kane. So I deliberately damaged my tattoo again and again, picking at the skin and reworking the design, just to see him a few more times. By the third visit for touch-ups, scrolling comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: “I’m dying of laughter. This desperate female lead literally destroyed her freshly tattooed skin just to see the male lead again, and she still didn’t dare confess her feelings.” “Henry Kane is actually the embodiment of an ancient ferocious beast who sat on mountains of gold and silver but refused to spend them, choosing instead to open a tattoo studio to experience mortal life.” “He looks icy and distant, but his possessiveness has long since maxed out.” “He was just afraid his violent nature would scare his woman away.” I looked at the man in front of me, who was lowering his head as he wiped down the tattoo machine, and he did indeed give off an unmistakable keep-your-distance aura. But the comments claimed that he wanted to possess me? “Um… Excuse me?” The man tilted his head slightly, and under the weight of his deep gaze, the confession lodged in my throat. My mind short-circuited, and I blurted out, “I… I wanted to tattoo it on my lower back this time.” In an instant, the comments exploded in joy. “Woohoo! We’re taking off!” “Lower back, you say? That’s a sensitive spot! Can this pure-hearted ferocious beast really hold back?” “Good grief, straight to the undressing scene! This cunning move by the female lead is operating on a whole other level!” The man’s hand gripping the tattoo machine jerked to a sudden stop, and the air seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Then he answered, his voice slightly hoarse and unreadable, “Alright.”