Every four years, the criminal underworld engages in a game. The Game. The challenges range from the impossible to the deadly to the truly insane. Things that only a crazy person would tackle. I’ve won the game five times. This time will be no different. I’m at the top of my field now, the best of the world’s thieves. There’s nothing I can’t steal, and this time, the game is all about theft, subterfuge, and sleight of hand. Starting with a legendary painting of poppy flowers.

They say you can never go back… ‘Course, I never wanted to return. It took me years to age out. Once I made it, I took off and never turned around. Trust me, there were only three reasons I managed to survive there as long as I did and they abandoned me as soon as they were able. I’d like to say I didn’t blame them, but that would be a lie. I had zero desire to return. Yet here I was, on the road to Northland chasing a story cause my editor told me kids were disappearing… again.

I thought I’d hit rock bottom when I turned 16. The day I broke my first love's heart, ending things before I could ruin his career as a rock star. But damn, was I wrong. Things got progressively worse from that moment on, until now. Eight years later, when I find myself homeless, jobless, covered in blood, and running from a ghost of my past.

Being in the Guild is our life…or death. Not everyone is created equal, and not everyone is truly cut out for the work we do. It’s not pretty, it’s not glamorous, and it’s sure as shit not moral or good. The weight of the sins we carry can become too much for some, and they crack. When they do, they become a threat. No one quits the Guild. Not really. Either they cut a deal to make themselves useful in another capacity, or they get eliminated. But who, you might ask, can kill a killer? Who scares the boogeyman into running and hiding? Men like me.

One heroic act damned me for eternity. With a name like Tor, I should have been a hero, just like my father and twin. Turns out I’m not. Not even close. Instead I’m the very thing we hunted. A depraved monster. I thought there was no escaping the curse. No hope for a future. And then I met my mate in the unlikeliest of places: Blackwood Asylum. A place for criminals. Power-hungry madmen. Supernatural outcasts. And her, the curvaceous writer who sees ghosts.

It should have been an easy task for a skilled mercenary like Rybet Waise. Simply break into the royal palace, and rescue her friend from the executioner’s block. But when Rybet accidentally qualifies for the Trials, she finds herself with little choice but to see them through. A thin veil of etiquette, elegance, and glamour hides the true nature of the Trials. Behind closed doors, they are brutal and bloody, and to fail means to forfeit her life. Thrust into the limelight and forced to compete with the Kingdom’s elite sweethearts, unlikely allies emerge and bonds are formed.

Clark Griswold was onto something...at least with his annual holiday meltdown. And since the last three weeks of my life have been riddled with humbug—another breakup, a broken toe, an office promotion I deserved and didn’t get—I’m not at all in the mood to celebrate nor have the happ, happ, happiest Christmas EVER.

The vampire prince has never claimed a human. Until now. My whole life I’ve been nothing but a means to an end; livestock kept caged for the production of blood. I’ve stared through fences at the promise of freedom countless times, but the only way anyone escapes this hell is in the hands of a bloodsucker.

I want vengeance so badly that I can almost taste it. It's all I've ever wanted. So, I did what anyone in my unique position would do. I slapped on a secret identity and became an internationally renowned thief, known as The Fox. Nobody knows me. Nobody can catch me. Or so I thought.... It turns out: I have what they want. Special abilities. And trust me, these abilities are coveted - and dangerous. Now, I don't know who to trust or where to go. Peril lurks on every corner as I try to uncover my past and origin. Teaming up with unlikely allies may be my only chance at survival or my biggest mistake. I'm Kit Davenport and this is only the beginning.

Five years ago, I masterminded the infamous massacre of the Tri-state Timberwolves. The streets outside the Wolves HQ ran red with the blood of the old guard, and not one of those members loyal to my father were spared mercy. Not a single one. I let the media twist and distort the story. My new recruits eagerly proved themselves in spreading false news, in covering our tracks. To the general public, the Tri-State Timberwolves were extinct. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth.