When Mora met Dother, she expected a one-night tryst, but the man she grew to love had a different idea. He intended to keep her at any cost. Even if that meant binding her to a flask and cursing her to grant the wishes of any who held it. Though Dother meant it when he swore Mora would never truly be rid of him, he didn't anticipate the monster she would become in the name of vengeance.

Cassie was never able to experience the life that many take for granted, the freedom to dictate her own journey. No, her life had been spent sheltered, protected from an inevitable fate that would come for her regardless of what anyone could do. After her medical condition goes downhill, she is left with a few years of breath in her lungs and a choice: die alone, without ever experiencing what it truly means to feel alive and free; or to find that light, that missing puzzle piece, that feeling of not feeling so alone in her final days.

The elves come for two things: war and wives. In both cases, they come for death. Three-thousand years ago, humans were hunted by powerful races with wild magic until the treaty was formed. Now, for centuries, the elves have taken a young woman from Luella's village to be their Human Queen. To be chosen is seen as a mark of death by the townsfolk. A mark nineteen-year-old Luella is grateful to have escaped as a girl. Instead, she's dedicated her life to studying herbology and becoming the town's only healer. That is, until the Elf King unexpectedly arrives... for her.

When Pestilence comes for Sara Burn’s town, one thing is certain: everyone she knows and loves is marked for death. Unless, of course, the angelic-looking horseman is stopped, which is exactly what Sara has in mind when she shoots the unholy beast off his steed. Too bad no one told her Pestilence can’t be killed. Now the horseman, very much alive and very pissed off, has taken her prisoner, and he’s eager to make her suffer. Only, the longer she’s with him, the more uncertain she is about his true feelings towards her, and hers towards him.

I never thought I'd be singing happy birthday to myself in a dungeon. And yet when a sinfully sexy demon crashes happy hour, that's exactly what happens. He’s known as the Lord of Chaos, and he’s mistaken me for my succubus doppelgänger. Happy birthday to me. When he tastes my blood, he finally understands I’m mortal. And I realize we have something in common: We both crave revenge. So we make a deal