Twenty years ago, monsters rose on earth and began a new age of civilization. One where humans live in military-controlled, cramped and dirty cities along the coasts, and the majority of the United States is known as the Wastes. A lawless, desolate and dangerous place, teeming with monsters that have claimed the land for their own. Including Wyn the Soul Eater. He appears every three years, making his way across the country and slaughtering humans randomly, sucking them dry until they’re nothing but husks.

Love. The most powerful force in existence, but also the most ruthless. Cunning and deceptive. Man’s greatest Achilles heel. Leaving all who embrace it weak and vulnerable. At least that’s how Dom-for-hire Max Kelley sees it, after the love of his life knocked him on his ass. A brutal blow that not only stole his breath, but decimated his ability to trust. Turning him cold and cynical. The TKO he never saw coming. Love. A mistake Max won’t ever make again.

Volumes one, two, and three of the Upending Tad series. In Loser Takes All, Tad's weekend starts out like any other; hitting a college frat party with a handful of buddies. But just as the evening hits its peak, things get up-ended fast. Ditched by his drunken, trolling friends, Tad winds up getting hustled by three jocks playing poker. Now, he's forced to pay his dues in the most outlandish of ways by spending an hour with his victors' favorite flogger, Scott.

This is Alabaster Penitentiary…where they send you when the world thinks you’re dead. And trust me, you’ll wish you were. We’re the stain on society. The freaks, the creeps, your favorite Netflix documentaries come to life. They lock us up and throw away the key, because we deserve it. But not me. I’m just a lowly bank robber. I don’t belong here, surrounded by psychopaths and killers with no remorse…At least, I don’t think I do.

He's a bad man, and I don't mean trash like your ex. I mean seriously bad. I mean dangerous. You can tell just by looking at him: black eyes, a menacing scowl, and a nose that's been badly broken in the past. He is my arch-nemesis. My mortal enemy. My singular obsession. I was afraid of him when we met. He kidnapped and chained me to a bed. Me—Damon Alexander Beckett of BeckIT fame and fortune. Well, the joke's on him because I'm going to make it my life's mission to destroy him. But first, I have to survive being his captive.

Simon Quigley had no idea what to expect when he agreed to do this for the money, but the eight-foot-tall pink alien isn't what he was expecting. For starters, Simon's straight. And Mohrn isn't a girl. The contract? It's unbreakable. It's going to be a long five years.

Sure, my life isn’t going exactly according to plan - I have a degree that led nowhere, a crappy job as a closing-shift barista, and an ex who has everything I want and got it by dumping myself - but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to give up on living yet! And, holy crap, when I’m plucked off the sidewalk of my rural Colorado town on the very night of my ex’s wedding, I’m pretty damn sure I’m about to lose my life and a whole lot more. If you’ve never tried flying, I do not recommend the first time be when you’re drunk and alone at two in the morning.

Those who can, teach. Marvin Block is one of the best kindergarten teachers out there. And despite his anxiety, Marvin’s life is sweet. He knows what he wants. And what he wants is the Teacher of the Year Award. Not just for himself--his school needs him to win. Returning from break, the New Year finds Marvin all set to welcome a new pupil to his class. But when Illona walks in with her cute-as-hell single dad beside her, Marvin’s focus starts to slide. Sure, his students always come first, but he deserves to have a life outside the classroom, too, right?

Day one of senior year at Denwin High was not supposed to end with my thoughts consumed by the new AP Philosophy teacher. I’d impatiently waited three years to take the course, but from the moment he strode in with his sad eyes that mirrored my own, I was intrigued by only him. Dr. Sebastian Wicked.

Tank is done with his old life. All it's brought him is trouble and misery in the form of a four-year prison term. Though he did find one good thing while behind bars: Charles "CJ" Crane, pen pal extraordinaire. After months of exchanging increasingly personal letters, Tank knows exactly where he's headed as soon as the prison gates open. CJ doesn't know he's coming, and he's not sure what he'll say when he gets there, but he knows one thing for certain.

Unrivaled in college basketball as a point-guard prodigy, Breck Harland has definitely earned his title as King of the Court. All around town, he’s a bona fide celebrity, his reputation with the ladies reinforcing a facade he's determined to protect. No one, not even his best friend, knows he's bi.

I did something stupid. Something needlessly, hopelessly stupid, and now my past is catching up with me. I knew when I saw that cash, I should have left it alone, but I needed it. And doesn’t the world owe me a little bit of luck? A little reprieve from the constant BS? Sorry. I can’t help but to rant about my situation because the truth is that I am royally screwed. You see, I stole money from the mob. One stupid decision made in the heat of the moment, and now I’m running for my life.

Julien Doran arrived in sleepy Maudit Falls, North Carolina, with a heart full of hurt and a head full of questions. The key to his brother's mysterious last days might be found in this tiny town, and now Julien's amateur investigation is starting to unearth things the locals would rather keep buried. Perhaps most especially the strange, magnetic manager of a deserted retreat that's nearly as odd as its staff.

Whisper doesn’t remember his real name. All he knows is the elite assassin guild that raised him—and controls him with the threat of blood magic. Plagued by nightmares, he doesn’t get to refuse assignments, even when his new job doesn’t make sense: infiltrate Prince Julien’s court, protect him until the signal arrives, then kill him.

In my defense, I was left alone with a bottle of single-malt and a lifelong penchant for protecting my baby sister. Still, that's no excuse to send 10 drunk-texts on why her hasty marriage would be a mistake. If only I had just texted my sister. But nope. I accidentally sent the message to her, her groom, and his super hot wingman. I also used the phrase “super hot wingman”, so I’d like to die now.