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?

Once upon a time… there lived a man with a vengeance-filled heart that held too many secrets and a woman, pure of soul, intent on uncovering them. What they failed to realize is that through the storm their love would create, a legacy would be born.

According to the FBI, I was considered a serial murderer after three kills. What do they call me after fifty-two? They call me the Silencer. One final bullet would have been all it took to stop me from taking another soul, and I would have been doing Meridian City a service by pulling that trigger. An angel crying for help stopped me, and that night, I took three lives for her. Then three turned into eight. Then eight turned into twenty. Twenty turned into twenty-one. Twenty-one turned into twenty-three.

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.

When my father passed away, I assumed my grieving would be as simple as closing a book and starting another. Only he had other plans. Leaving me his beloved tattoo shop, I’m stuck to figure out what exactly to do with it, all while being constantly reminded of him.

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.

It’s a ghost town, this place that haunts me, the one that made me. It’s clear to me that I’ll never outgrow Triple Falls or outlive the time I spent here. I can still feel them all, my boys of summer. Even when I'd sensed the danger, I gave in. I didn’t heed a single warning. I let my sickness and my love both rule and ruin me. I played my part, eyes wide open, tempting fate until it delivered. There was never going to be an escape. All of us are to blame for what happened. All of us are serving our own sentences.

To me, that's all Lucian Aston is—a highly sophisticated, posh Englishman who stars in my daydreams. Mostly because of the way he views me as a loud, boisterous, no-nonsense surgical nurse he's stuck touring London and Paris with up to the day of his groundbreaking surgery. Until then, we've got a lot of downtime to kill. So, it's only natural that I put my best foot forward to get to know him a little better. Problem is Lucian has no intention of taking a single step in his fancy wingtips to meet me halfway. That is until we strike our deal.

I hated the gangs that ruled my city. After my friend was killed and my father vanished, I had no choice but to infiltrate one to figure out why. Entering their infamous club quickly showed me I was in over my head. Then the most feared gang leader took an interest in me. Arran was corrupt, deadly, and his searing gaze both terrified and tempted me. In my search for answers, I stumbled into his dark and dangerous game. The result? I belonged to him, with no chance of escape. In a heartbeat, I became Arran’s obsession. And in a terrible twist, I think he’s becoming mine.

I’m just a girl. And it turns out, I’m Hercules. I’m struggling to survive in a Titan infested world where Spartans, immortals from twelve royal families who have god-like powers and obscene wealth, rule over all. A shy-stammering foster child with nothing, I keep my head down, cover my scars, and focus on excelling in school. At least, I try to. Then it happens.

What I thought was my pre-destined path was very much an illusion. Living seven years with regret, I realized too late that I was broken and that I only had myself to blame. I thought love could wait.... but it didn't. We'd had it all those years ago, and then I foolishly left it behind. She was all that mattered. She was all there ever was. There was no life without Dallas, no reason... except her.

Macon Davis. My best friend’s brother. My tormentor. My least favorite person. Pothead. Delinquent. A careless, directionless loser. That’s what I used to believe, but I didn’t really know him. And when I finally saw him, it was the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. We burned hot and fast. Passion. Anger. Love. Pain. We were reckless. Naive. We were doomed from the start. When I finally saw Macon Davis for who he was, we both went down in the flames.

He was the talented bad boy everyone wanted. I was the irrelevant geek everyone hated. He was the sun...drawing all of us in. I was a black hole...taking up space. He was destined to be a star. I was destined to remain an insignificant no one. Until he made me believe I was special...and then he destroyed me. I never thought I'd see Phoenix Walker again after he broke my heart, but fate had other plans. One tour. Eight weeks. Forty shows. Countless opportunities to make him pay. The world thought he was a god...but I know the truth.

In the beginning, there was Savannah Shaw. Teasing me with a mischievous, merciless grin by day. Crawling through my window with tear-stained cheeks by night. I was ordered to avoid her. Lectured on her misdeeds. Forbidden from seeing her. But my need to protect her was innate. So natural I never questioned it. So visceral I couldn’t fight it.

Layla Robinson is not crazy. She is suffering from unrequited love. But it's time to move on. No more stalking, no more obsessive calling. What she needs is a distraction. The blue-eyed guy she keeps seeing around campus could be a great one - only he is the new poetry professor - the married poetry professor.