Trauma nurse Aly Cappellucci doesn’t need any more kinks. She likes the one she’s landed on just fine. To her, nothing could top the masked men she follows online. Unless one of those men was shirtless, heavily tattooed, and waiting for her in her bedroom. She dreams about being hunted by one in particular, of him chasing her down and doing deliciously dark things to her willing body. She never could have guessed that by sending one drunken text, those dreams would become her new reality.

November 12, 1944. This house holds on to souls for a lifetime. I thought I had given it to my husband when I vowed to love him until the end of time. I lied. Nothing could have prepared me for the day my phantom appeared outside my window. He was terrifying, yet hypnotizing, and I couldn’t deny my intrigue. I never intended to fall into a whirlwind romance with my stalker. Especially because he’s so much more than that. A criminal. A mobster. The man who offers me solace from the monster in Parsons Manor. There are many that haunt these halls, yet it’s only my husband I fear.

When a chance encounter sparks an unlikely bond between rival murderers Sloane and Rowan, the two find something elusive—the friendship of a like-minded, pitch-black soul. From small-town West Virginia to upscale California, from downtown Boston to rural Texas, the two hunters collide in an annual game of blood and suffering, one that pits them against the most dangerous monsters in the country.

I used to have big dreams: finish college, make beautiful art, all while taking over my dad’s business. He wanted a legacy, and I wanted to give it to him. But his illness wasn’t part of the plan. Neither was his sudden need to keep me locked up in our mansion, safe and isolated. I want more from life, but could only spend my days waiting. Until one night, I came face-to-face with a street biker from a world far different from mine. What starts as him stalking me, quickly spirals into something deeper, and more deadly.

I see dead people, and not just the men I murdered. I'm in danger of being committed because I can’t tell what’s real from my hallucinations. Everyone thinks I’m crazy when the serial killer I jilted starts haunting my house. He assassinates any man who shows me interest, leaving their body parts under my pillow. During the day, his gaslighting destroys my peace of mind. But at night, he invades my nightmares and makes me crave the depravity.

Once upon a time, there was a little boy. His belly full of laughter, his life full of joy. Until one day, something changed; stripped his innocence away. The hole inside making space for the devil to come and play.

They captured me, broke me. Molded me into their perfect weapon. They made me murder and seduce strangers. Until a hitman killed my captors and set me free. LeroiI rescued a girl from a basement thinking she was innocent, but I brought home a serial killer whose darkness borders on insanity. Now, I need to tame her murderous instincts before I become her next victim.

The rabbit's foot sways in the car, a bad omen that I choose to ignore. Her innocent face and offer for a ride are too tempting. Little does she know that I'm a dangerous man on the run, a sociopath with a thirst for the thrill of the hunt. Selena is my rabbit, and I'm about to ensnare her in my trap. As we speed toward the border, emotions I thought I was incapable of stir within me. What will happen when we reach our destination? Will I let her go, or will I keep her by my side forever? The game has just begun, rabbit.

I caught the attention of a monster. I didn’t ask for it. Didn’t even see it coming. But the moment I do, it’s too late. Killian Carson is a predator wrapped in sophisticated charm. He’s cold-blooded, manipulative, and savage. The worst part is that no one sees his devil side. I do. And that will cost me everything. I run, but the thing about monsters? They always chase.

His new life in Chicago consists of performing autopsies and eating chips while watching old detective series. Until…He's suddenly standing in front of me. Leather jacket, washed-out jeans, jet black hair. His deep, green eyes are so intense on me I can barely breathe. It's in his crooked smile, bold flirting, and confident—borderline conceited—behavior that I get lost.

The average song is three and a half minutes long; those three and a half minutes could lead to a slow blink, a glimpse of the past, or catapult the soul into heart-shattering nostalgia. At the height of my career, I had the life I wanted, the life I’d always envisioned. I’d found my tempo, my rhythm. Then I received a phone call that left me off key. You see, my favorite songs had a way of playing simultaneously. I was in love with one man’s beats and another’s lyrics. But when it came to the soundtrack of a life, how could anyone choose a favorite song?

Ruthless. Meticulous. Arrogant. Dante Russo thrives on control, both personally and professionally. The billionaire CEO never planned to marry—until the threat of blackmail forces him into an engagement with a woman he barely knows.

Isolation, darkness, and rotting flesh surround me, suffocate me, but I am the vile ruler who controls it all. I long for warmth, yet all that I touch is cold. Then, she stumbles in to my domain, lost and frightened, alone and confused. And I terrify her even more. She calls me the devil, so I show her pleasure, like only the devil can. I am the heat that stirs her flesh, the longing that trembles her bone. She begs her body to refuse, to escape my embrace, but I am her master, the puppeteer of passion. I am the King of Flesh and Bone. Welcome to my court, little one.

There are many rules a priest can't break. A priest cannot marry. A priest cannot abandon his flock. A priest cannot forsake his God. I've always been good at following rules. Until she came. Then I learned new rules.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.